The Girl with the Red Ribbon (35 page)

‘No disrespect to good old Auntie Cam, but that can only be a good thing. You've already made her see she needs brightening up. Now I wish to spend some time alone with my beloved, so shall we take the scenic route along the Mall? I shall slow down as we pass the Preventative Station so you will be able to think of me whilst I'm away.'

Her
heart turned over. ‘You are going away? When?'

‘Tonight, so I'm afraid we won't be able to spend long with Auntie. I did tell you we'd had a tip-off about owlers further along the coast, didn't I?'

Her heart lurched. In all the recent excitement, she'd quite forgotten. She thought of greedy Fanny and hoped the woman hadn't persuaded her father to get involved with those men of the night.

Rowan missed Jack more than she could have imagined but had little time to dwell on his absence. The shop's reputation for providing the new personalizing service was spreading rapidly, and she was rushed off her feet from the time she got up to the time she went to bed. Louisa, thrilled with the way her business was thriving, was even talking about expanding into larger premises. Telling Rowan she was pleased with her progress, she assigned her more responsibility, sending her to call upon some of the more influential ladies of Saltmouth.

One afternoon, Rowan was returning from measuring up a client, when she caught a glimpse of corn-coloured hair ahead of her. She looked away for a second, puzzled as to what it was about the hair that had caught her attention. Then she felt a jolt of recognition. It couldn't be, she thought, pushing her way through the crowds to get a closer look.

‘Sab?' she called tentatively. He turned, looking startled for a moment, and she waved excitedly, unable to believe it really was him.

‘Rowan?' he gasped in surprise, stopping dead so that the people around bumped into him. But he seemed oblivious as he stared at the girl hurrying towards him.

‘Oh, Sab, it really is you,' she cried, throwing her arms around him in delight.

‘Hey,
look at you, dressed up like a grand lady,' he said, holding her at arm's length and studying her. ‘Your fellow must be doing well.'

She frowned. ‘Pardon me, Sab, but I'm sure I don't know what you mean,' she protested, wondering how he could have heard about Jack. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you hated towns.'

‘I do but I'm here on a spot of business,' he said.

‘How's Father and the farm?' she asked. ‘And why were you so distant before I was ab–' A passer-by jostled her arm, interrupting their conversation.

‘Look, there's lots I want to ask you, too, but we can't talk here. Got time for a walk?'

She stood dithering for a moment, knowing she should return to work. Yet she so wanted to catch up with her dear friend. Pushing her guilty feelings away, she nodded. It was wonderful to have met up with the man who'd been like a brother to her, and she had so much she wanted to ask him.

‘Let's walk along the Mall. It'll be quieter there,' she said. ‘Oh, Sab, I have missed you. You look all grown up.' She smiled up at him and he grinned back.

‘I've missed you, too, little sister, though you haven't grown any these past few months, have you?' She punched him playfully, then noticed they were passing the Free Library and Coffee House.

‘How about a quick cup of tea?' she asked, keen to find out more about what Sab had been up to. He stared at the building uncertainly. ‘Oh, come on, my treat,' she insisted, taking his arm and leading him inside.

‘Now you must tell me how Father is and how
everything is at the farm,' she insisted, once they were seated and their order had been taken.

His eyes clouded. ‘Wouldn't know, would I?' he muttered, shifting in his chair.

‘Whatever do you mean, Sab?'

‘After you scarpered with your fancy man …'

‘But I didn't have a fancy man, Sab.'

‘But Fanny said you'd run off together whilst we were sowing up in Five Acre Field.'

‘I didn't run away, Sab, I was abducted.'

His eyebrows rose, almost disappearing under his corn crop of hair.

‘I was kidnapped whilst I was carrying out my ritual up at the oak. A man came up and threw a sack over me, dumped me in a cart and took me to the asylum on Dartmoor. Fanny arranged it all.' She blinked as the terrible memories came flooding back. ‘Anyway, that doesn't explain why you were ignoring me before all this happened, Sab.' He stared out of the window, but she didn't think for one moment he was seeing the boats bobbing on the water.

‘Fanny said I had to. Said if I didn't, she'd tell Uncle we was carrying on together, you know, having rela–' His voice trailed off.

‘That's disgusting! Father would never have believed it,' she protested. Turning, he gave her a level look and she sighed. ‘He believed everything she said, didn't he?'

‘Yup. She had him well and truly in her clutches. Put me off marriage for life, that did. She even threatened to shop me to the authorities. Said as I'd been over four when I left the orphanage, they were morally obliged to make sure I was an obedient citizen, and that I'd be taken to a
boarding house and made ready for the army. Wasn't having any of that so I up and left. It were only when I found work on the other side of the valley that Farmer John told me as I'd been trained as a labourer, it wouldn't have applied to me.'

‘Oh, Sab, that's terrible,' Rowan murmured, reaching out and patting his arm.

‘Joe. I'm called Joe now,' he said. ‘And what about you? I gather you must be working here in Saltmouth now,' he said, nodding towards her bag.

‘Yes, I'm apprenticed to Louisa Acland, milliner and mantua maker. And I'd better go or I won't have a job,' she said, gathering up her things. ‘Why don't you come back with me? The shop will be closing soon and we can catch up with the rest of our news?'

He shook his head. ‘Got to get back or I'll not have no job either. Only came to bring something in to one of the shops. I'm labouring at Pear Tree Farm, beyond Saltmouth. Just for the summer, mind. Funny, eh, when we was at Orchard Farm before?' They laughed, sharing the joke, happy their easy relationship was established once more. ‘You passing by before autumn, call in. Farmer John's wife's the welcoming type and happen I wouldn't mind seeing you again meself,' he said with a grin.

‘I'd love to,' she said, delighted. ‘And if you're in Saltmouth, you know where you can find me. I'd love you to meet my follower. He's called Jack and works at the Preventative Station. You'll like him, Sab. He's kind and cheeky. A bit like you, I guess.'

They got up to leave, hardly noticing their untouched drinks cooling on the table. Laughing and joking, they
walked back along the Mall but as soon as they reached the town, Sab turned to Rowan.

‘Best hurry now,' he said and, waving his hand in salute, disappeared into the market.

As she watched him weaving his way through the rapidly emptying stalls, Rowan was reminded of the last time they'd been to Sudbury Market. If only she'd heeded old Aggie's warning to
beware she with the forked tongue.
But then never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Fanny would turn out to be such a malevolent woman. Surely her father loved them too much to believe the woman's sick allegations? But then if he loved Rowan as much as she'd thought, he would have responded to her letter, wouldn't he? Although it had been good seeing Sab again, it had brought bad memories of the past flooding back.

Preoccupied with her musing, she found herself back outside the shop before she knew it. Seeing the smartly dressed gentleman hovering impatiently outside, her pulse began to race.

‘Jack,' she cried. ‘When did you get back?'

‘Boat landed further along the coast this morning and we rode the rest of the way but it was a futile mission. Reckon someone had tipped off those owlers.' Rowan thought of her father and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Had to come and say hello to my favourite girl, although I can't stay long,' he added, giving her his winning smile.

‘Favourite girl!' she squeaked. ‘I should hope after what you proposed last time we met, that I am your only girl.'

‘Indeed you are, Rowan.' The clock on the church struck the hour and he frowned. ‘Shame you weren't here
when I arrived as I've to report back for our debrief session. May I call for you on Sunday?'

She nodded, her heart leaping at the prospect. He'd been away so long and she'd missed him, although she knew better than to tell him that.

‘Auntie will still be away, so I'd better behave correctly and take you out for tea. Shall we go to the Free Library and Coffee House?' he suggested, grinning at her roguishly. Her heart began doing the weird dance it always did when he stared at her like that. She smiled and then noticed Louisa peering at them through the bowed window.

‘I'd like that, Jack. Better go in now, though.'

‘Until Sunday then,' he said with a bow. ‘Parting is such sweet sorrow, Rowan,' he called after her.

‘I thought you'd got lost, Miss Rowena. It is not my policy to encourage followers to call upon my staff during working hours,' Louisa admonished as Rowan entered the shop.

‘Sorry, Madame Louisa. Jack's only just returned and he called to see if I'd walk out with him on Sunday afternoon.'

‘I saw him loitering outside,' she said disapprovingly. ‘It doesn't look good for business so perhaps in future you'd ask him to wait down the entry. Now what orders did you take today?'

By the time Rowan had gone through them all, her employer was mollified. ‘Goodness, you are going to be busy with all this extra work, but I have to say I am getting nothing but compliments about your ingenuity. It appears we have started the fashion for personalization and now
are clearly heads ahead of our rivals, if you'll excuse the pun. Of course, with you using more ribbons, the orders to the plumassier and veruriers have declined, but that's not my concern.' She waved her hand, as if batting a bothersome fly. ‘One must move with the times. With that in mind, I am designing a new style of bonnet. As we both need to focus on our work, I have engaged a girl from the Poor House. She will sweep the pathways, dust the windows, keep the shop and workroom tidied and the fitting room refreshed.'

‘That will make a huge difference, Madame Louisa. I was wondering how I was going to get everything done in the timely manner you insist upon.'

‘I can't deny we will both have to work even harder, but we mustn't grumble. This is the season for visiting, when we would expect to be at our busiest. However, I pride myself on being a fair person and will ensure you receive a Christmas box worth opening.'

‘Thank you, Madame Louisa,' Rowan cried. Compliments and money, what more could she ask for?

‘In the meantime, take yourself up to my spare room and choose some material with which to make a new work dress. That one is looking decidedly the worse for wear,' she said, nodding to the one Rowan had on.

‘But it is only a few months old,' Rowan pointed out.

‘And it has seen much heavy use. It's no good us encouraging the good ladies of Saltmouth to be dressed
à  propos
, if you go around looking
passé
,' she declared. ‘As you have worked so hard, you may also choose a length of something summery for your Sunday jaunts. We need to set an example when we are out.'

Rowan's
eyes lit up, for although she'd been grateful for Mrs Acland's generosity, it would be wonderful to have a dress of her own to walk out in.

‘That will be all for today, Miss Rowena. I believe Maria has made a hearty vegetable stew for supper. How that girl manages such bounty on the money I give her, I really don't know.'

Rowan smiled but said nothing. It wasn't her place to spill the beans.

Hoping Maria had kept her promise and saved her the carrot tops and onion skins, she made her way upstairs. Her stocks for making dyes had dwindled alarmingly and with the new orders she'd taken today, she urgently needed to replenish her supplies. Rummaging through the bales of materials, she settled on a smart
mousseline de laine
for work and a length of bright green cotton for her Sunday gown. If she worked late into the nights, she might just have enough time to have it finished before she next walked out with Jack, she thought, her heart racing. She could trim both her dress and bonnet with moss-green ribbon as well.

By the time Sunday came, the weather had turned inclement with light drizzle falling from a leaden sky. Oh, well, Rowan thought philosophically, summer or not, the sun couldn't shine all the time. Excitedly changing into her finery, and then parting her hair down the middle in the style she'd seen the ladies of Saltmouth now wearing, she carefully donned her newly trimmed hat and ran down the stairs.

‘You may borrow a calash to protect your bonnet,' Louisa called from the workroom, where she was working on her new creation.

‘Thank
you, but it's merely a mizzle,' Rowan said, then felt guilty her employer was still working. ‘Would you like me to stay and help?'

Louisa laughed. ‘I need this to be finished by the time we open tomorrow, Miss Rowena, not next week.' Then seeing Rowan's crestfallen look she smiled. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I do believe your beau is waiting.'

Outside, Rowan felt her heart jump when she saw Jack seated in the pony cart, but instead of his usual cheeky grin, his smile seemed strained. No sooner had she climbed up beside him, than he flicked the reins.

The wet weather meant everyone was travelling by carriage or cart and she saw Jack frowning, but put this down to him concentrating. The cloud was hanging heavy over the bay, making everywhere grey and dismal, and it was difficult to differentiate between the sea and the sky. The ride seemed endless and by the time they entered the Coffee House, Rowan was relieved to be amongst the cheery chatter and laughter. They busied themselves ordering and then an awkward silence fell between them. Rowan began telling Jack how Louisa was allowing her to call upon the grander houses and how, with new orders to fulfil, she had more dyes to make. He nodded politely but his look remained set and he was clearly distracted.