The Girl with the Red Ribbon (30 page)

Louisa laughed. ‘It comes with practice, Miss Rowena. Keep the client happy, remember. Talking of which, I need to gather more samples for Esther to see, and then there is a gown to deliver to Lady Beliver. She lives in Honeysuckle House, which is a beautiful cottage orné, a short walk from there. I do so love visiting her.'

‘A cottage orné?' Rowan asked.

‘It's a fairy-tale style of architecture,' her employer explained.

‘Obviously one you particularly like,' Rowan said.

‘Yes, I do, but I like her cook's lady's finger biscuits even more,' she said, with a grin. ‘However, it does mean postponing the next stage of your bonnet instruction.' To her surprise, Rowan felt quite disappointed for she'd woken feeling cheerful, certain this was going to be a positive day.

After Louisa had left, Rowan checked the fitting room was tidy, and saw that the level in the bottle of Madame Louisa's signature fragrance had got down alarmingly. She was just debating what she should do about it when the little bell tinkled and a lady in a green dress, toning wide-shouldered cape and bonnet entered, followed by a
tall, dark-haired young man wearing a top hat and flared frock coat. The woman smiled, and Rowan took an instant liking to her.

‘Good morning, my dear. I'm Camilla Richmond and this is my nephew, Jack Carslake.'

The man doffed his hat as he removed it, and gave Rowan such a dazzling smile that her heart jumped. As his piercing blue eyes stared directly into hers, she swallowed hard.

‘Would Madame Louisa be free to attend to me?' Camilla Richmond enquired, seemingly unaware of Rowan's inner turmoil.

‘I'm afraid madam is out this morning. I am her new apprentice, Miss Rowena. May I be of assistance, or maybe take a message for her?' she asked, endeavouring to concentrate on the client.

‘Well, unusually for one paying a visit to a milliner, I require a new bonnet,' the woman said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to show me some of your examples?'

‘Yes, of course, madam,' Rowan replied, acutely aware of the man's gaze on her.

‘Jack, I fear you will be bored to tears watching me trying on these creations, wonderful though they look,' Camilla Richmond suggested hastily. ‘Perhaps you'd like to take a walk and return in an hour or so.'

‘Your wish is my command, Aunt Camilla,' he teased, giving Rowan a wink before striding out of the shop. Despite herself, Rowan couldn't help watching after him.

Seeing Rowan's interest, Camilla laughed.

‘Forgive that nephew of mine. Jack is cheeky, and no mistake. Mind you, I'd be lost without him,' she added. ‘He's just started work at the Preventative Station here and is staying with me until he finds his feet. Now where was I?'

Flustered at having been caught out, Rowan turned her mind back to her duties.

‘Did you have anything particular in mind, madam?' she asked, hoping her voice sounded normal.

‘I require a new bonnet for my great-niece's christening,' the woman said.

‘Something special then, madam?' Rowan enquired, glancing at the examples on the stands.

‘It is actually Miss Richmond but please call me Camilla. I absolutely hate the title “Miss”.' Rowan stared at the attractive woman in surprise, but she was still talking. ‘Now, I assume you need to know what I propose wearing. As it will be midsummer by then, I have a mind to shock Mother and appear in bright yellow,' she said, laughing. ‘However, my sister would kill me if I turned up looking like a canary, so I'll content myself with a more acceptable ensemble in mid-blue.'

‘Your sister?' Rowan asked, her mind still on the cheeky young man.

‘Yes, Jack's mother,' the woman explained, with a frown.

‘Forgive me, I was just thinking what we have that would
complement your face shape and wonderful dark hair,' she said, improvising quickly and forcing herself to concentrate.

Together they walked around the shop discussing the merits of each bonnet on display.

‘Of course, once you decide on the shape you prefer, we can customize the colours to suit your requirements, perhaps add a flower or two,' Rowan suggested.

‘To be honest, I think flowers should be fresh and left to grow in their natural environment. Now, I'm quite useless at this kind of thing. Perhaps you could make a suggestion?' After another appraisal of the woman, Rowan lifted a coal scuttle design from the stand. It was covered in mid-blue taffeta with a black velvet bow.

‘This shape would be perfect for you,' Rowan said, lifting it from the stand.

The woman frowned. ‘It's a bit, well, dare I say, old hat,' she said, bursting into peals of laughter.

Rowan smiled. ‘I agree it is a bit conventional, but if you'd like to try it on, I can talk you through some suggestions for personalizing it to go with your outfit without any artificial flowers,' Rowan said, leading the way into the fitting room. When Camilla had donned the bonnet, Rowan stood holding the hand mirror so that Camilla could see the back in the wall glass.

‘I was thinking that if the bow was replaced with an iris-blue silk frill and toning ribbons it would give a more celebratory look. Of course, it would be important to see your outfit first to get a match. There are so many different blues and the whole effect could be ruined by the wrong tone.'

‘I'm
impressed, dear. You have made what I thought was going to be an arduous task most enlightening.'

The little bell tinkled, and Rowan excused herself to see who had come in. When she saw the handsome man she now knew to be Jack, her heart began hammering in her chest.

‘Hello again,' he said. ‘I hope my aunt has been behaving herself. She hates shopping, you know.' He gave a conspiratorial grin and Rowan couldn't help smiling back. Clearly aunt and nephew were close.

‘I heard that, young man,' his aunt chided, emerging from the fitting room. ‘Now, here is my address,' she said, handing Rowan a little silver card. ‘If you could call, shall we say, at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I shall have my outfit ready and we can discuss those trimmings.'

Just then the little bell rang again as Louisa returned.

‘Good morning, madam,' she said. ‘I do hope Miss Rowena has been attending to your needs?'

‘It's Miss Richmond, Camilla Richmond, and Miss Rowena has been most helpful. I have ordered a bonnet and asked if she will bring it over tomorrow morning so that she can advise me on trimmings to match my outfit. It is for my great-niece's christening, therefore imperative I get it right,' she said.

‘For such a special occasion, it will be my pleasure to call upon you myself,' Louisa said. The woman and her nephew exchanged looks.

‘I have already arranged for Miss Rowena to visit at ten o'clock. She has been most obliging and knows exactly the look I wish to achieve,' Miss Richmond said quickly.
Rowan saw Louisa stiffen but, as ever, she maintained her decorum and continued smiling.

‘As you wish, Miss Richmond, ten o'clock tomorrow it is then.'

‘Thank you, madam. We will see you tomorrow then, Miss Rowena,' Camilla said.

Aware that Louisa was less than happy, Rowan's heart sank. But as she hurried to open the door, Jack gave her a wink, sending her emotions soaring once more.

‘If it's not beneath you now, Miss Rowena, perhaps you would see the fitting room is tidied and refreshed,' Louisa said stiffly, going through to the workroom. ‘And please remember my signature fragrance does not grow on trees,' she added haughtily.

Well, that depended upon what it consisted of, Rowan thought, but refrained from saying so. Obviously Miss Richmond had ruffled Louisa's feathers, she mused as she tidied the little room.

‘I wouldn't have thought you had enough
savoir-faire
yet to call upon clients this early in your training, Miss Rowena,' Louisa said coming back into the shop. ‘However, as you have seen fit to offer your services, I shall just have to trust you know what you're doing. Put that bonnet in a box ready to take to Miss Richmond tomorrow, and then go for your luncheon. Never let it be said I don't treat my staff fairly. This afternoon we will see how much you've remembered of your bonnet making instruction, and for your sake I hope it's most of it,' she added in a stentorian voice Rowan had never heard before.

Her heart sank and she prayed she could recall what she'd been taught, for Louisa really was not in the best of moods.

‘He
was a good-looking one,' Maria exclaimed, as Rowan went through to the kitchen. ‘I clocked him as I came down the entry. He had his eye on you and no mistake. Staring through the window for ages, he was, before he came back inside the shop.' At the mention of the tall, dark man with the piercing blue eyes, Rowan felt her cheeks growing hot.

‘Madam has accused me of being heavy-handed with her fragrance when I refresh the fitting room and …' she said quickly.

‘Oh, don't worry about that. She's always moaning about it going down too fast,' the maid muttered.

‘Is something wrong?' Louisa asked, appearing in the doorway.

‘No, Madame Louisa, I was just talking to Maria whilst she was dishing up my luncheon,' Rowan said.

Hastily, the maid of all work began ladling hot pease pudding into a bowl.

‘I came to enquire whether you'd had the nous to write down Miss Richmond's details, only they don't appear to be in the book. Or did the position of advisor go to your head?' their employer snapped, in the clipped voice Rowan was coming to dread.

She gulped. ‘Miss Richmond gave me this,' she said, putting her hand in her pocket and pulling out the silver card. ‘I'm afraid I forgot to transfer the details to the book.'

With an exasperated click of her tongue, Louisa took it and disappeared back to the shop.

‘Blimey, she is in a bad mood and no mistake. When she said about the position of advisor going to your head, I was going to say, as well as the bonnet,' Maria said. ‘But seeing the look on her face, I didn't think I dare.'

‘No,
Maria, I don't think that would have been a good idea today,' Rowan agreed.

‘Don't worry, Miss Rowena. Like I said, she blows hot and cold all the time,' she added, thrusting a tray with her lunch on it into Rowan's hands.

As Rowan sat at the Pembroke table eating her meal, she couldn't help thinking once again how much easier it had been dealing with the placid cows back on the farm. She wondered if her father had written back yet, but decided she'd better wait until Louisa's mood had improved before asking her.

No sooner had Rowan gone through to the workroom than Louisa began firing questions at her.

‘What's the name of this material?' she asked.

‘Buckram,' she answered.

‘And what can be used instead of it?'

‘Double layer of willow.'

‘Which is … ?'

‘A type of grass.'

And so it went on until Rowan thought her head would surely burst.

Finally, apparently satisfied with her answers, Louisa said, ‘Right, you can spend the rest of the afternoon making a bonnet yourself. When, and only when, I am satisfied, we will proceed to the next stage. Of course, you will need to spend this evening preparing the items to take to Miss Richmond. I cannot help because I was not privy to the discussion,' she said, as with a rustle of petticoats she swept through the dividing curtain and into the shop, only to reappear a few moments later, holding a swathe of dark blue material. ‘May I
enquire what you propose wearing to call upon Miss Richmond?'

Rowan looked down at her work dress and frowned. ‘Well, my uniform dress, of course,' she answered.

‘And what do you propose to wear over it?' her employer said sternly.

‘Oh, don't worry, Madame Louisa, it is lovely and warm so I won't need anything,' she said.

There was a long-drawn-out sigh. ‘Miss Rowena, I would remind you that when you call upon clients, you are representing my establishment. As such, it would be
mal à propos
to visit without an outer garment covering your day dress. Use this to make yourself a cape this evening,' she ordered, putting the material down on the work table with unnecessary force. ‘If you have time, you may use some of the lower-grade silk material to line it. Oh, don't worry,' she said, seeing Rowan's surprised look. ‘I will deduct the cost from your wage.'

As she disappeared through the curtain once more, Rowan breathed a sigh of relief. It was obvious her employer wasn't pleased Miss Richmond had insisted Rowan call upon her. Well, she'd been told to keep the client happy and that's what she'd tried to do. Then, as the image of the dark-haired Jack and his cheeky grin swam before her, she couldn't help wondering if he'd be there when she called.

She looked at the material Louisa had left on the work table. It was of good quality and Rowan could easily turn it into a stylish cape, though she still didn't understand why one was necessary when the weather was so clement.

As
soon as Rowan had completed her early morning duties, she straightened her bonnet, and donned the cape she'd spent half the night sewing. Then checking her bag had everything she needed, she picked up the hatbox containing the coal scuttle bonnet and, with the shop bell tinkling in her wake, went outside.

It was a beautiful morning, with the sun shimmering on the sea and the gulls wheeling on the thermals. How she'd love to linger and promenade along the Mall, but Louisa had instructed her to go directly to Miss Richmond's. As her destination lay just off the main Saltmouth Road, she left the seafront behind and hurried through the bustling little town. She went back over the bridge they'd crossed in the coach, and turned into the lane where grand houses lay secluded amongst open fields. It didn't take her long to find Poppy Cottage, a mellow red-brick building with tall chimneys, which had a veranda running all the way around it. Obeying Louisa's other instruction, she went round to the back entrance. The door was opened by a tiny young maid, who scarcely reached even to Rowan's shoulders.

‘Let me take your cape, miss, then I'll show you through to the drawing room,' she lisped.

‘Thank you,' Rowan said, putting down her things and handing her cape to the maid. Following her along the carpeted hallway with its impressive sweeping staircase, and into a high-ceilinged room, she couldn't help marvelling at the cottage's stylishness, although anything less like a cottage she'd yet to see. To her surprise it was Jack who greeted her. Jumping to his feet, his grin warm and welcoming, he took her bag and the hatbox from her.

‘Miss Rowena, how lovely to see you again. Please sit
yourself down,' he said, his velvety voice sending shivers down her spine. ‘Forgive my aunt's tardiness. She is running a little behind this morning, and has asked me to entertain you in her absence.' He turned and pulled on the tapestry bell rope.

‘Sarah, please could you bring a pot of coffee and some of Cook's excellent lady's finger biscuits?' he said as the little maid appeared. ‘Our cook makes the best ones I've ever had,' he said, turning back to Rowan.

She smiled politely, wondering if she would dare share this later with Louisa, who enjoyed Lady Beliver's lady finger biscuits so much. Jack sat looking at her quizzically, and she smiled politely.