Page 34 of The Gentlewoman Apprentice

Memories flashed like the opening and closing of shuttered windows. His grandfather throwing him in the air, showing him a vat of blue so deep it was black. His mother mixing watercolors and comparing them to fabric dye. Peter covering his nose against the putrid dyehouse. Grandfather’s headstone covered in red silk flowers his mother had sewn while her tears fell into a bucket of red madder.

He folded the scrap of red into his breast pocket and fetched his watercolors.

Peter took a square of thick paper from his writing desk. He didn’t know Miss Cooper well, but he knew she liked beautiful things. He painted a starling perched on a gnarled branch, a symbol of unity and adaptability, as true a sentiment as he could muster for a woman who had disrupted the cadence of his life and given it new rhythm.

He pretended not to notice the changes she wrought, a hard task when it seemed the entire atmosphere of the shop had altered since she arrived. She enforced an efficiency unknown to Sloan Tailoring.

The wings of a bird took shape under his hand. Perhaps he knew more about her than he liked to admit, but this correspondence would remain strictly amicable. He would meet the obligation of his wager and think as little of Miss Cooper as possible.

On a blustery day the following week, Peter assured Lady Downsbury of the punctual completion of mourning clothes for herself and her seven daughters before stepping into a sleek black carriage. He settled onto luxurious suede and expressed silent gratitude for the hot brick warming the equipage.

Six hours in the company of eight bereft women had left Peter’s shoulders in knots. These ladies had lost their father and faced the possibility that the distant cousin who inherited the estate would deal unfairly with them. Twice they ran from the room in tears mid-measuring. It was nearly the weekend, so he promised to return the following Monday with eight black gowns and have their full wardrobes completed by Thursday the week after that, counting on Miss Cooper’s aid.

The journey between Gloucester and Stroud passed swiftly on dry roads, but the town clock struck five as the carriage halted before Sloan Tailoring. Laden with packaged fabric, Peter asked the driver to open the shop door.

Inside, Master Dickson, Guild Master of Saint Anne’s of the Tailors, loomed over the table upon which the apprentices sat. Giles moved his needle uncommonly fast and unevenly. Johnathan kept swiping his brow. The master’s arrival had sent the apprentices into a pother, and Peter must rid them of his presence, unusual as it was. Had Peter missed a meeting?

“How do you do, Master Dickson?” Peter lay the fabric on the cutting table and invited Master Dickson into the office. “Please, have a seat. I admit, I am surprised to find you here. Has something happened at the guild house?” Peter asked.

“No, no.” Master Dickson pulled a pair of ringlets that coiled over his ears, centering his wig over his head. “I simply came to see your shop.”

No one from the guild had ever sprung a surprise visit. “Would you care for tea? I know my father would be pleased to see you.” That was not strictly true. Master Dickson was not well-liked, and heaven knew what state his father would be in.

Master Dickson leaned forward conspiratorially. “I came to check on the lady who calls herself a tailor.”

Ah. He wished to ascertain whether Miss Cooper was learning anything. She had not been in her usual chair when he arrived. Perhaps she was making a delivery, though that was not customary. “I didn’t see her when I came in. You did not scare her off, did you?” Peter forced a light tone, but a cold prick sharpened his senses. Master Dickson could take his wig, his condescension, and his meddling elsewhere.

“Your apprentices tell me she is quite capable.”

“Capable of cleaning the grates, they mean.” This held true, though everyone knew her abilities with needle and fabric as well.

“I trust there is no reason for concern. A tailor without a guild is no tailor at all.”

A threat to expel Peter from the company. “I take your meaning, sir. I assure you, there is no need for apprehension. Now, if you will not have tea, please accept a comfit and take one for the road.” Peter extended his box of bonbons.

When the shop door slammed closed, indicating Master Dickson’s departure, Peter remained in his chair, his hands not quite steady. Expulsion from the guild meant losing the legal ability to take on apprentices, hire journeymen, practice tailoring. Along with the financial devastation, society would mark him an untrustworthy fellow. Yet Miss Cooper deserved to learn.

They would find a way to accomplish her training. In the meantime, he must show an abundance of caution and let his young charges know not to speak of Miss Cooper to anyone outside the shop. Further, Peter must apply his own hand to the pile of soon-to-be mourning dresses he meant for her to help finish. Miss Cooper could complete all embellishments, which would save him a great deal of bother, but she would not like it. He exited into the workroom.

“And where is our gentlewoman apprentice?”

The apprentices glanced at one another.

“Did something happen?”

“I believe Miss Cooper is taking a day off,” said Giles.

“She is unwell.” Arnold’s comment earned nods from the others. Miss Cooper had earned their loyalty.

Peter studied his apprentices. “What did Master Dickson speak with you about?”

“He asked about Miss Cooper, what she did and what she knew about tailoring,” Arnold said. “But don’t worry over it. We told him nothing, the dry old stick.”

Peter laughed. “Be careful and show your respect to the guild.” He followed the command with a wink. It seemed he had little to worry about when it came to the apprentices. “I will check on her. I have an urgent order that requires all hands tomorrow. Please arrive by five and do not indulge yourselves at the alehouse.” The gowns required cutting before he could use their help and only Miss Cooper could help with that task.

Johnathan nudged Freddy, whose vice ran toward gin. They murmured their assent.

Peter tapped on Miss Cooper’s door and waited a full minute before it swung open. She stood before him looking rather brilliant. The sun illuminated her face, and a blush rose in her cheeks, her lips pink and full.