The Girl with the Red Ribbon (40 page)

‘Mrs Stokes, I wonder if you could help me?' she asked.

‘Come away in, Rowan,' the charwoman greeted. ‘Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you a drink?'

‘Thank you, but no,' she replied, then sat bunching her apron between her fingers.

‘What's up, girl? Spit it out,' Mrs Stokes encouraged.

There in her cosy kitchen, Rowan began telling her about her dilemma. She was only going to mention her father and Sab needing someone to look after them, but the woman was so understanding, she found herself blurting out about Louisa and Jack as well.

‘Well, it seems you have a lot to sort out, Rowan, and it sounds like it's going to take some time. Why don't I take care of your father and Sab until you return?'

‘Would you?' Rowan exclaimed. ‘It would mean higher wages and meals for you in the farmhouse.'

Mrs Stokes gave her gap-toothed grin. ‘A new life for both of us, eh?'

‘You mean you'd take it on permanently?' Rowan asked, her hopes rising.

‘Why not? Tell your father I'll get cooking later. Good luck, girl. You deserve it.'

Rowan could have hugged the woman. Hurrying back to the farmhouse, she ran up to her room. By the time she'd washed and changed into the smart clothes, her father and Sab were sitting at the kitchen table, breaking their fast.

‘Well, look at you,' Sab whistled appreciatively as she came down the stairs.

Her father looked at her bundle and frowned. ‘You going then?' he asked, shrewd as ever.

She nodded. ‘If it's all right with you, I'll cadge a lift with Sab as far as Pear Tree Farm.'

‘No, you won't,' her father grunted.

‘But, Father …'

‘You'll sit and have a bite to eat and then Sab will take you right into Saltmouth. I guess that's where you're headed?'

‘Thank you, Father,' she cried, going over and throwing her arms around him. ‘I will be back to see you soon, and Mrs Stokes is going to cook for you.'

Her father stroked his wiry beard and nodded.

‘If I'm to take you on to Saltmouth, Rowan, we need to be heading off straight away. Farmer John won't be happy if I'm late,' Sab said, jumping to his feet. ‘See you tomorrow, Uncle Ted.'

‘I'll take some bread and ham with me,' Rowan said, snatching up her basket. ‘Goodbye, Father. You will look after yourself, won't you?'

‘Course I will, stop flapping like some mother hen, girl. Just remember, you always have a home here.'

Blinking back her tears, she nodded and followed Sab outside.

‘This takes you back, doesn't it?' Sab said as the trap rattled its way towards Sudbury. ‘Do you think Fanny will have gone back to London?'

‘She never came from London. Mrs Stokes told me she was born and bred in Exeter.'

‘But I thought she said she'd looked after young girls?'

Rowan shrugged, thinking it prudent not to divulge everything the charlady had told her. ‘It seems an age since we last travelled together,' she said instead. ‘I don't know about you, but I've certainly changed since then.'

‘Good thing too, or I wouldn't be sitting this close,' Sab jested, pretending to pinch his nose. She gave him a playful punch. ‘Well, you didn't wear such fancy clothes then, Rowan. Hope that young Preventative's worth it.' She turned and gave him a sharp look, but he just grinned knowingly.

The church clock was chiming eight as she climbed down from the trap.

‘Thanks, Sab. I'll see you again soon, I'm sure.'

‘Look after yourself, Rowan. You know where I am if
you need me.' Serious for once, Sab stared at her for a moment, then turned back the way they'd come.

Rowan stood outside Louisa's shop, butterflies churning in her stomach. She noticed the bonnet in the little bow window was the same as when she'd left, but the window and pathway were spotless. Obviously the young girl from the Poor House was doing her job well. Come along, Rowan, you won't achieve anything by standing here, she chided. She was making her way towards the entry when she stopped and, taking a deep breath, pushed open the door to the shop instead. As the little bell gave its familiar tinkle, Louisa came hurrying through from the workroom. Seeing Rowan standing there she arched an eyebrow.

‘Good morning, Madame Louisa,' Rowan said, forcing a smile to her lips. ‘I wonder if I might have a word with you.'

Louisa stared at her for a moment then nodded.

‘First I should like to apologize if I was rude to you,' Rowan said.

‘Apology accepted,' Louisa answered graciously. ‘And I owe you one, too. I regret I falsely accused you of theft. After you left, I caught Maria helping herself to my signature scent. It would appear her follower likes her to smell like a lady when she goes out with him, would you believe. The silly girl also admitted to wearing that ostrich feather in her bonnet when she went to the fair,' she added, shaking her head. ‘She is on her absolute honour not to take anything again or I have told her she will be dismissed. Between you and me, if I didn't know she had a widowed mother and seven siblings to provide for, she'd have been gone in an instant.'

So Louisa did have a softer side to her nature, Rowan thought, relieved she had been cleared of blame.

‘I was wondering if you'd sold my mother's mirror yet?' she enquired.

Louisa sighed. ‘No, Rowan, I haven't.'

Rowan felt her heart lift. ‘In that case, I wonder if I might come to some financial arrangement with you,' she said, making her voice as businesslike as she could.

Louisa's lips twitched. ‘And what do you propose?'

‘As I left here without collecting any wages, I thought perhaps you would offset them as a deposit.' Louisa's eyebrows rose higher. ‘Naturally, I wouldn't expect to take ownership of my, er, the mirror until it was completely paid for. However, in order to finance this, I need to find employment and was hoping you might reconsider providing me with a character. After all, I did work hard and really can't believe you had any cause to complain about my efforts.'

‘I agree you did work hard, but what about your attempts at bonnet making?' Louisa asked, her lips twitching again.

‘Well, I admit the first was abysmal, but the second one passed muster with even your exacting standards,' Rowan protested.

‘None the less, I'm not sure about providing a character …'

‘But you have just said it was Maria who helped herself to your things so …'

She was cut short by the tinkling of the bell. ‘Good morning, Mrs Parker,' Louisa said stiffly, as the birdlike woman bustled through the door. ‘Now, why am I not surprised to see you this morning?'

‘Well, I was just passing, Madame Louisa, when, as usual, I looked in through your window to see if you had any new creations and, to my surprise, I noticed Miss Rowena. Ah there you are, dear. Are you back for good?' the woman asked, turning to Rowan.

‘Miss Rowena and I were just in the middle of a business discussion when you came in, Mrs Parker. Is there something you wish to purchase today?' Louisa enquired.

‘I have just come in to browse, thank you, madam, so please carry on with your conversation. I won't listen,' she added primly.

Louisa looked at Rowan and shook her head. ‘Mrs Parker, I don't wish to appear rude, but I must finish my discussion with Miss Rowena. If there is nothing I can help you with, I'll bid you good morning,' Louisa said, ushering the woman towards the door.

But the gossip wasn't to be fobbed off.

‘You have been sorely missed, Miss Rowena. Have you been on vacation, or was there some family crisis perhaps?'

‘Miss Rowena will tell you all about it later, Mrs Parker. Good morning.' Louisa almost pushed the woman out of the door. Closing it firmly behind her, she dropped the latch and turned the sign round to show ‘shut'. Rowan's eyes widened in amazement; never had she known Louisa to close during working hours.

‘Come upstairs where we can talk in private. We'll never get anything sorted out here,' Louisa said, heading down the hallway. ‘Maria, please bring a tray of tea for two up to my parlour,' she called.

‘Well, Miss Rowena,' Louisa said when they were sitting
in the comfortable chairs that looked down over the yard to the little back garden beyond. ‘Firstly, I must tell you that I am not prepared to furnish you with a character.'

‘But why not?' Rowan cried. ‘As I said, I did work hard.'

‘Yes, and that is why I'd like you to return to your position here, Miss Rowena.'

‘You would?' gasped Rowan in amazement.

Louisa nodded. ‘Mrs Parker was right when she said you have been missed. Even in the short time you have been away, I have been inundated with requests for your services.'

Rowan's heart soared. This was going better than she'd hoped. Then the door opened and Maria clattered through.

‘Coo, look what the wind's blown in,' she said, putting the tray down on the table.

‘Maria, please,' Louisa reprimanded.

‘Sorry, madam. I already poured it to save bringing up the pot,' she replied, unrepentant as ever.

‘Thank you, that will be all, Maria,' Louisa said, though as the maid retreated she continued staring at Rowan as if she had something she wished to say.

‘Now about the mirror,' Louisa said as the door closed behind the maid. ‘I have considered your proposition and am happy to accede to it.' She handed Rowan a parcel.

Rowan recognized it immediately and her heart leaped. Placing her cup on the table, she eagerly folded back the soft material and lifted out her most treasured possession. As she sat tracing the etched scrolls tenderly with her finger, warmth flooded through her, bringing life back to her body which had felt numb since Jack had left her standing in the farmyard.

‘Thank you,' she said, smiling at Louisa.

‘I knew as soon as you'd left that I'd been hasty. Forgive me, Rowan, but I was excited at the thought of being able to expand my business. However, if the mirror was your mother's then I have no right to hold on to it.'

‘Thank you, Madame Louisa. You have no idea what this means to me,' Rowan said, hugging it to her.

‘I take it you are agreeable to returning to your post?'

Tearing her eyes away from her beloved mirror, she smiled at Louisa. ‘Oh, indeed. I will work hard and try to master bonnet making.'

‘Good. I've had so many requests for our personalizing service that I was going to get your address from Alexander in order to call upon you.' As Rowan stared at her in surprise, Louisa smiled. ‘You have a real talent, not only
for assessing what suits the ladies of Saltmouth, but getting along with them as well. As I mentioned once before, some of them are not the easiest to deal with.'

‘But they are all happy with the service you provide, Madame Louisa,' Rowan assured her.

‘Just as well or my business wouldn't last long. Now as you know, it is imperative we move with the times. Only yesterday I was asked to call upon Lady Beliver. She recently had visitors staying with her from London, where apparently, a colour called magenta is what anyone who is anyone is wearing.' Louisa leaned forward in her chair. ‘Would you believe, it is our dear Queen Victoria who started this mode. Of course, Lady Beliver wants her bonnets trimmed in this purple pink as soon as possible. I showed her the ribbons I had in stock, but they were nowhere near bright enough. Knowing you have such a good eye for colour, I wondered if you would know how to make this particular hue?'

Rowan thought for a moment. Rhododendrons! The flowers would be perfect for creating the right colour.

‘I think I know how to achieve that,' she replied.

Louisa clapped her hands delightedly. ‘In that case, I shall arrange for you to call upon Lady Beliver. She is so well esteemed that if we can pull this off we will have clients queuing all down the street. You will find your room just as you left it, so I suggest you go and put your things away, then change into your apprentice attire.'

‘Thank you, Madame Louisa,' Rowan said, gathering up her bundle and basket.

‘By then you will be ready for some nourishment, so ask Maria for a bowl of her broth. I don't know how she's managed it, but she's made the most delicious one filled with all
manner of different vegetables.' Rowan grinned inwardly, thinking that despite her recent telling off, the maid must still be making her forays to the kitchen gardens in the area.

‘Now the shop has been closed for too long as it is. I shall go and reopen and see you downstairs when you've eaten.' Louisa swept from the room in a rustle of petticoats.

Suitably attired in her working outfit and feeling revived from her broth, Rowan went through to the shop.

‘I have just taken an order for a new bonnet. The client would like it to be ready for collection tomorrow, so whilst I work on it this afternoon, I would like you to …' Louisa was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell. She smothered a sigh.

‘Verity, how nice of you to call,' she said graciously. ‘You remember Miss Rowena, of course.'

‘Darling, I have just heard about your new enterprise,' Verity purred, ignoring Rowan completely.

‘And what might that be?' Louisa asked.

‘That you are offering bespoke colouring, silly. I said to myself, Verity you really must call upon darling Louisa and offer your support.' Rowan stared at the woman, wondering how word of their service could have reached as far as Exeter.

‘That is most kind, Verity. However, it is Miss Rowena who offers this particular service.' In a flash, Verity's attention was transferred to Rowan. ‘In that case, you may measure me for a new bonnet directly.'

‘I'm really sorry, Verity, but Miss Rowena's service has proved so popular, her list is already closed for the season.' As the woman's face turned from pink to puce, Rowan had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing.
‘However, I would be happy to put your name down for the next available appointment,' Louisa offered.

‘That won't be necessary,' Verity said stiffly. Then, nose in the air, she turned towards the door.

‘Do give my love to Alexander, won't you?' Louisa called as the bell tinkled behind her.

‘I didn't know Alexander was still seeing her,' Rowan said.

‘He isn't, thank heavens,' Louisa replied, giving a wicked grin. ‘Now I want you to give priority to the magenta dye. I assume you'll need to collect some plants or flowers before you can start?'

‘Yes, but …' Rowan was about to say she didn't know if Camilla had returned home yet, but Louisa interrupted.

‘As I said, making the dye is your most important task. I will keep an eye on things here whilst working on this new bonnet, so go and obtain whatever you need straight away. When you return, I shall inform Lady Beliver we can supply her with the magenta ribbons she requested. This is such good news for the business, Miss Rowena.'

Having secured her job and not wishing to prejudice her new position in any way, Rowan gathered up her cape and basket.

As she made her way to Poppy Cottage, her thoughts ran amok. Supposing Camilla wasn't there? Would it be all right to pick a few flowers and leave a note explaining what she'd done, or would that be infra dig? Camilla was such a lovely woman, not like that awful Verity, who couldn't abide flowers indoors. She was glad Alexander was no longer walking out with her. He would be much more suited to the gentle Camilla, she thought. They shared a love of gardens and plants and would get on well together.

Her thoughts, as she headed towards the seafront, turned to Jack. Now that she'd had time to think, she understood his being hurt she hadn't confided in him about her past, but she was angry at the way he'd jumped to conclusions. How dare he presume she'd been walking out with someone else whilst he'd been away? Anger quickened her steps. She couldn't believe he'd thought so badly of her. She was better off without him, wasn't she? Her question hung on the salty air but her musing was interrupted by a carriage drawing up alongside her.

‘Rowan, how are you, my dear?' Camilla was smiling at her.

‘Camilla, I was on my way to see you.'

‘Well, it's a good job I spotted you then. I have an appointment in town and your journey would have been in vain.'

‘Oh, no,' Rowan cried, imagining Louisa's disappointed look if she returned without the wherewithal to make the new dye.

‘Was it a social call or did you want me for something in particular? Having recently returned from my vacation, I feel hopelessly out of touch with everything here. Even that reprobate nephew of mine is monosyllabic at the moment. Getting more than two words out of him is harder work than digging up bindweed. It was a relief when he went out earlier.' She drew to a halt, then, seeing Rowan's crestfallen look, called to her driver, ‘Wait here, please, Perkins.'

‘You look dreadfully pale, Rowan. Has Louisa been overworking you?'

Rowan shook her head. ‘I only returned to work this morning and if I don't get my new dye made, Louisa will tell me to leave, I know she will.'

Camilla stepped out of the carriage and studied her closely. ‘Come along, sea air is the best tonic there is to soothe the soul. We can talk whilst we walk. And don't worry about Louisa,' she said, as Rowan made to protest. ‘I will speak to her if necessary. Now tell Auntie Cam what's wrong.'

They strolled along the front and Rowan began telling her about the magenta dye and how she'd been on her way to ask permission to pick some rhododendrons.

‘How clever of you to know that you can make this new purple pink colour from the flowers when you made yellow dye from the leaves,' Camilla said. ‘But if you don't mind my saying, you were sporting that long face before you knew I wouldn't be at home.'

‘It was walking along the Mall that upset me,' Rowan sighed.

‘Poor old Mall, what did it do, then?' Camilla teased. When Rowan didn't answer, she turned towards her, studying her intently. ‘I have to ask myself if the fact my favourite nephew and his intended are both unhappy is coincidental.'

Seeing the woman's sympathetic look, Rowan's pent-up emotion burst forth and she found herself pouring out everything that had happened. Camilla was quiet for a few moments.

‘When you really love someone there's no room for pride,' she finally said, before signalling to her driver. ‘Now I can easily walk to my appointment from here so Perkins will take you to Poppy Cottage. Collect as many flowers as you want, my dear, and let me know how you get on. It sounds an exciting venture.'

‘But …' Rowan began.

‘In you get,' Camilla ushered. ‘Everything will sort, it
always does, one way or another.' Before Rowan could answer, she called to the driver and the carriage began to move.

As soon as Rowan saw the profusion of beautiful mauve and red rhododendron flowers, her heart lifted. Eagerly she began gathering the brightest blossoms but, as ever, the best ones were just out of her reach. Determined not be beaten, she threw off her cape and climbed into the bush. Its boughs shook and wavered, but she clung on tightly, her eye on the prize blooms above. Then, she saw dark two eyes staring up through the bush at her, and froze.

‘What the heck … ?' the faceless voice shouted, making her jump so that she lost her grip and fell to the ground. Stunned, she lay on the grass, her head violently spinning. Wildly reaching out, her hands made contact with some coarse material, and she grasped it tightly until the spinning began to subside. It was only then she realized that she was hanging on to a coat sleeve and, looking up, saw those same two dark eyes staring down at her.

‘Rowan, are you all right?' a voice asked. It sounded like Jack, she thought, but he was out; Camilla had said so. Then she felt herself gently being lifted into a sitting position. ‘Speak to me, Rowan. Please tell me you're not hurt?'

She blinked and shook her head, trying to clear the blurred image that swam before her.

‘Jack? But you're not here,' she murmured.

‘That bang on the head's made you delirious,' he said, smoothing back her tumble of curls. ‘I am very much here.'

‘Oh, you are,' she gasped, as his face slowly came into focus.

‘Yes, and it's just as well, if you must go clambering about in the bushes. Honestly, Rowan, when I looked out of the window and saw those rhododendrons shaking like billy-o, I wondered what on earth was going on.'

‘I was just collecting flowers for my dye. Camilla said I could,' she assured him quickly.

‘Blow the flowers, and Camilla for that matter. You could have been hurt, Rowan,' he said, staring at her so tenderly she had to look away quickly.

‘But I'm not,' she said, struggling to her feet. ‘And I needed the flowers for a special dye.'

‘What about that special flower?' he asked, pointing towards the bush where her bonnet was dangling. Grinning, he reached up and retrieved it. ‘I'm afraid the ribbon's snapped,' he said, handing the bonnet back to her.

‘Nothing that can't be mended,' she reassured him.

‘What about us, Rowan? Can we be mended, do you think?'

She stared at him, remembering Camilla's words.

‘It was my pride …' they both began, then burst into peals of laughter.

‘Well, we seem to think the same, so that must be a starting point,' Jack said. ‘What do you think, Rowan, could we start again?' Putting his hand in his pocket, he brought out her red ribbon. ‘I've carried this everywhere since it caught on my button.'

Smiling, she held out her arm and gently he tied it around her wrist. Immediately, she was filled with a sense of rightness. And as the ribbon gave a gentle tug, she knew they'd come full circle.