Читать книгу A Rumored Engagement - Lily George - Страница 14

Chapter Six

In the dim morning light, Susannah peered around her new home. More than a home. This was their hope for the future.

There was nothing more to do, at least when it came to scrubbing and cleaning the place. Even their living quarters upstairs had been scoured—the wood floors sanded, cobwebs swept away, the iron bedsteads freshly painted white. The cheerful quilts that all three girls had pieced on rainy afternoons now graced the beds, and Becky had whipped up a pair of pink calico curtains for their dormer window. Downstairs, in the shop area, the girls had created an attractive window display, framed by Becky’s gossamer muslin curtains.

Nan had really outdone herself this time. A collection of their finest hats was arranged in artful pageantry, all on hat stands of varying height. Nan had woven ribbons above the display in a bright, colorful web. From outside the store, one was drawn in by the promise of beauty.

Now, if only the customers would come.

Susannah had painted a sign herself, in graceful script, proclaiming Siddons Sisters Millinery. The sign was simply too heavy for her to hang, so it leaned against the front wall, beneath the window. Perhaps she could hire a couple of lads in the village, sturdy boys who could scramble up on the roof and hang the sign properly. Until then, this would have to do.

She opened the door, letting the fresh air in. “Girls!” she called. “Do hurry, I’m opening the store.”

“There won’t be a mad rush.” Nan yawned, traipsing down the stairs. “It’s bound to be slow at first.”

“Even so, we must appear professional. No dawdling.” She surveyed Nan and Becky as they presented themselves for review. The sisters had agreed to wearing matching dresses in dark blue, with starched white aprons. Susannah and Becky had wound their hair up into chignons, while Nan’s dark locks flowed in ringlets down her back.

“I think we look quite nice,” Susannah offered cautiously. “Now, do we all have tasks to perform for today? We don’t want to fall idle and daydream the morning away if we don’t have customers.”

“I shall be embroidering a white grosgrain ribbon with cherry blossoms. And Nan is going to work on tatting lace. If we work ahead on trimmings, then we shall have them ready when a new order comes in.” Becky smoothed her apron and smiled.

“Very good. And I shall work on making a new poke bonnet in nice autumnal shades. I think we have our best opportunity of attracting new customers by opening as we are, on Saturday. If I recall correctly, this is the busiest day of the week in the village.” Her memories of Tansley had faded. After all, she left the village when she was still a lass of fifteen. But Mama and Papa walked into the village every Saturday to do the little bit of marketing they needed. And it was always cause for a great occasion.

She settled onto a low stool by the rough wooden table, wrapping brown taffeta over the bonnet frame. Her hands trembled. She must not expect to see any customers today. Building a successful store would take time. And she mustn’t let her sisters see how very nervous she was. Since Mama died, it was her duty to make sure the girls remained sheltered and protected. Even under the direst of circumstances, she could not contribute in any way to making them feel uncertain or afraid.

The taffeta slid easily through the bonnet frame, soothing her ruffled spirit. Having an occupation was a good thing. It kept her mind from wandering too far. If she allowed those thoughts of possible failure to flow through her, she would accomplish nothing. Willing her fingers to cease their trembling, she threaded a needle and started the arduous task of placing tiny, even stitches under the brim to hold the taffeta in place.

She would be a rock for Becky and Nan, just as she’d always been.

But all the same, ʼtwould be nice to have someone she could talk to, and to share her fears with.

A light footstep sounded on the threshold. “Look at this!” a cultured, sweet voice remarked. “A proper millinery here, in Tansley.”

Susannah glanced up, her heart beating fast. A slight, pretty young lady stood in the doorway, a delighted expression on her face. Behind her, two other ladies peered in through the shop window. Well-dressed ladies, ladies who—judging by appearances only, of course—might be gentlewomen.

Susannah rose, her knees quaking so badly she hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. Gracious, one couldn’t very well fall flat on the floor before her very first customers. She must compose herself. Susannah offered a slight smile—the best she could under such trying circumstances.

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve just opened. Won’t you come in.” Her voice sounded as wobbly as an old cart-wheel, and she cleared her throat.

“I should say so. Annabella! Evangeline! Do come in!” The lady turned to her companions. “It’s the loveliest little shop I’ve seen—thought at first I had imagined it.”

Her companions scurried in, giggling. “Oh, Eliza! Isn’t it marvelous?” One of the ladies—Evangeline? Or Annabella? At any rate, the blonde one wearing her hair in stylish ringlets—clapped her gloved hands in rapture. “Now we don’t have to wait to go to Town for new bonnets.”

“I’ll take the blue satin one in the window,” Eliza’s other companion, a regal brunette, stated flatly. “Do you have more ready-made than is in your display?”

Susannah paused. They had crafted very few bonnets—she’d wanted to earn more money before whipping up a dozen or so to have ready for purchase in the shop. The supplies were expensive, after all. But stating that to these fine ladies might make her shop seem small and cheap indeed.

“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you see our bonnets are made to specification. We work to make sure that each one is suited to the wearer and is a perfect match not just for her clothing but for her features, as well. So, you see, we do not have much stock ready-made.”

Nan and Becky looked up from their work, their dark eyes reflecting merriment and respect as Susannah made her bold pronouncement. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Because the thought of a bespoke milliner in a sleepy village was patently absurd. But that was before her first customers proved to be gentlewomen.

’Twas a daring move, to be certain. She clutched the half-finished bonnet to her bosom. Surely those fine gentlewomen could hear her heart pounding like a big bass drum.

“Delightful! So we could order anything we want, and to match our gowns.” Eliza waved a hand airily about the room. “I am working on my winter wardrobe with my seamstress, Anne. I should like to have you come up to the house and see what she has planned in the way of gowns, and then you can plan bonnets and hats to match.”

“And me, as well.” The blonde withdrew her card from her card-case and held it toward Susannah with a regal gesture. “Coombe Hall is my home. Perhaps you could come on Thursday next?”

“Yes, of course.” Susannah grasped the scrap of paper and scanned it quickly. The Honorable Evangeline Snowden. Gracious above, the gentry. Just as she’d suspected. “I shall be there with one of my two assistants whenever you wish.” She indicated her sisters with a slight lift of her shoulder and placed the unfinished bonnet on the rough wooden table beside her.

“You shan’t have her before me,” Eliza scolded playfully, tapping Evangeline lightly on the arm. “Miss Siddons is my discovery. I was the one who insisted on coming into the village today, and I saw her shop first.” She turned to Susannah, her smile causing her dimples to leap. “Can you be at my home on Monday? After noon, I should think. It’s Kelwedge Hall, and I shall send my carriage for you.” Eliza held out her calling card, as well, and Susannah accepted it with a curtsy.

“Of course, ma—” Susannah stopped abruptly and read the card. The Honorable Elizabeth Glaspell. Oh, dear. How was one to address an Honorable Miss? She cast her mind around desperately. If she was going to play the toffy milliner, she’d have to learn how to address lords and ladies properly.

Eliza chuckled at Susannah’s confusion. “Never mind. Just call me Miss Glaspell. Shall I send the carriage for you on Monday, then?”

Susannah nodded and bobbed another curtsy. “Of course, Miss Glaspell.”

“May I still purchase that fetching little blue bonnet?” Annabella began rummaging in her reticule. “It’s a display piece, so still a one-off. Will this cover it?” She pressed a few notes into Susannah’s hand.

“We had not planned to sell that particular item or any from the display, but since you’ve taken a fancy to it...” Susannah trailed off. Giddiness made her head swim. If only the trio would leave soon, she could sit back down, calm her trembling knees and have a bracing cup of tea.

“Good.” Annabella removed the bonnet from the hat stand with a satisfied air, and Nan scurried forward with one of their precious few hat boxes. Nan tucked the bonnet in with a flourish, tying the box lid on with one of her elaborate bows.

“I share seamstresses with Evangeline,” Annabella said, taking the box from Nan. “So when you go to Coombe Park, I will work with you at the same time.” She handed Susannah her card.

Susannah glanced over the ivory scrap of paper. The Honorable Miss Annabella Prestwidge was engraved upon it in elegant script. Gentry clients—even the fragments of their existence, such as this card—were refined beyond compare.

“Of course.” Susannah nodded. “Thursday next.”

The three ladies left as abruptly as they had arrived, chattering and giggling among themselves. As the sound of their voices faded, Susannah dropped into her chair. Exhaustion and elation swamped her. One bonnet sold, and the promise of commissions? This was more than she dared hope.

“Susannah, you were brilliant!” Becky rushed over, enveloping her in a fierce hug. “I am so proud of you! You were as cool as could be— If it had been me, I should have fainted from nerves!”

“Nonsense.” Her trembling voice surely belied the forthright pronouncement. “’Twas nothing at all. Becky, you shall watch the store on Monday, and I shall take Nan with me as my assistant. As the second eldest, you should be in charge. Next year, when Nan turns seventeen, then she can watch the store by herself.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Nan countered, but Becky shushed her.

“Think of it, Nan! You’ll get to see Miss Glaspell’s fine home. And they’ll come to regard you as an apprentice.” Becky gave her sister an encouraging smile.

“Oh, very well.” Nan sighed. She turned to Susannah. “I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you for your gracious acceptance,” Susannah remarked dryly. “Now, back to work, ladies. We may have more customers, and we may not. The best way to make the day pass quickly is to work. And that way, when we do visit Miss Glaspell and these other gentlewomen, we shall have more trimmings with which to whip up dazzling adornments.”

Her admonishment proved sound, for though they left the door open and the fine weather drew many people to the village that day, not another soul crossed their threshold. Women would venture down to their quiet end of the street and steal a peep at the shop window, but either out of timidity or lack of interest, they wandered off.

If they hadn’t received the attention of the Honorable Misses Eliza, Annabella and Evangeline, she would have felt very low indeed. As it was, their early success made her hopes rise almost too high, even though she’d cautioned her sisters against the same failing.

As the afternoon light faded, she cast her work aside and surveyed her sisters. They were working side by side, chattering away like magpies. They’d always been close. Whereas Susannah had always been like their mother. A pang of something like envy shot through her as she watched them together. How nice it would be to have a confidant. Someone she could chatter on with about the day’s success.

Gracious. That was the second time she’d harbored such a thought lately. She stretched, unknotting her back as she reached her arms toward the ceiling. How ridiculous—to be mooning over her lack of close friends. What she needed to focus upon was her own dawning independence. If she relied on no one, then she had nothing to fear. No one could abandon her. No one would hurt her. She would earn her own bread and be beholden to herself only.

But somehow, that old comforting thought had lost its appeal.

She must be tired and hungry. That was all.

Susannah turned her mind to the practical matters at hand. And what could they have for supper? Perhaps she could use some of the profit from the bonnet sale to buy a little celebratory dinner. “Girls, I shall go down the street and see if I can find some sort of repast for us. You two finish up what you’re doing, and lay the table. I shall be back directly.”

The girls murmured their approval but did not look up from their handiwork. Susannah tucked the money into her reticule and stepped out, slinging a wooden basket over her arm.

As she ventured forth, a strong hand caught her arm, and she gasped. A robber? Set to steal her day’s profits? Her mouth went dry as she whirled to confront her assailant.

“Hello, Susannah,” a confident male voice greeted her cheerily, and she gazed up into familiar green eyes that sparkled with mischief. “How was the first day?”

* * *

Susannah looked as though she was ready to strike him or cry. “Are you all right?” Daniel asked, leaning in close to her. He caught her faint scent of orange blossom and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Ever since she was a girl, Susannah had had the knack of capturing his full attention, of swamping his senses. No other woman, not even in the far corners of the world, had quite the same captivating effect upon him as Susannah Siddons.

Even the headache that throbbed all day, a reminder of the previous night’s drinking bout with Paul, had begun to subside when he found Susannah.

“You startled me, that is all.” She took a step backward and removed his hand from her arm. “Do you always jump out at unsuspecting milliners?”

“No, this is my first opportunity.” He cast a lighthearted grin her way and took the basket. “Wither are you bound?”

“To find food. The bounty you sent from Goodwin has dwindled.” Her responses were brief, but some of the brittleness had gone from her voice. That was a good sign.

“You could join me at the Hall for dinner.”

Susannah halted in her tracks, staring up at him with an exasperated frown. “How would that be remotely proper?”

“It wouldn’t be proper. But it might be fun. And we agreed to be friends.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “After all, what do you care what anyone says? Aren’t you your own woman now?”

“I am, but as a working lass with my own business, I should hold myself above reproach.” She made a move to swipe the basket from him and he skipped back a pace, grinning. “Oh, do stop, Daniel. You look ridiculous, and people will see us together.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, as though admitting defeat. “Very well, Miss Prim-and-Proper Siddons. I shall conduct myself with great deportment if you will answer my first question, about your first day. And I shall accompany you to any store you desire, so that you may buy food.”

“To the bakery, then,” Susannah ordered, pointing out the way as though he were a newcomer to the village. He stifled a grin. Susannah always was at ease ordering people about. “My day went very well, thank you. I have three new customers, all of them gentry. I think it shall turn out well. I am cautiously hopeful.”

“That is excellent news.” His heart surged with pride. Susannah could accomplish anything she set her mind to, that was for certain.

“And how was your day?” she asked, her tone polite and even. She must be adhering to her own inner conscience, reminding her that she had promised to be friendly, after all.

“ʼTwas...” He paused. While she had toiled at her shop, he’d slept, ate a vast repast, bathed and finally, at this late hour, ventured into the village in the hopes of running into her.

Not that he was seeking her out, of course. But he was interested in her little shop and how well she fared.

“’Twas quite...relaxed.” He shrugged. “Not as exciting as yours.”

“I doubt that.” She looked up at him, a smile hovering around her pretty lips. “With such a large estate? I am certain it keeps you busy morn to night.”

She halted before the bakery, the spicy scents of cinnamon and cloves beckoning them in. “I should go. I need to feed everyone and put us to bed in time for church tomorrow morning.”

“Church?” He laughed incredulously. “The closest one is St. Mary’s. In Crich. Don’t you remember? Nearly a four-mile ride.”

“Oh.” She looked crestfallen, as she bowed her head. “Yes, you are right. I haven’t been there since I was fifteen years old. I forgot how far we used to journey on Sundays. Well, I shall have to simply have my own little service in the morning. I’ve much to be thankful for, you see.”

“I see.” He handed her the basket and touched the brim of his hat. “Well, I am glad you had such a good day, Susannah. With so much to be grateful for.” He turned to go.

“Thank you, Daniel.” The warmth of her voice took him off guard. He glanced at her from under the brim of his hat and was rewarded with a smile—the first genuine one she’d bestowed on him since he’d stopped her from breaking her own door down.

He smiled back and struck out across the moor for Goodwin. Paul was gone, so he would be completely and utterly alone. He suddenly hated social conventions with a passion that startled him. How nice it would be to have dinner with Susannah and her two sisters, just as friends, nothing more.

After all, she’d made it quite clear that even friendship was a stretch after the wrong he’d done her.