Page 95 of The Gentlewoman Apprentice

“I think solely of him. I see clearly what is required of me.” Meg leaned forward and planted a kiss on Louisa’s cheek. “You are very dear to me. I thank you for everything.”

Louisa’s arms came around her in an emphatic embrace that squeezed tears into Meg’s eyes. “Don’t say it. Please. Reconsider.”

She had weighed her options, and only one appeared solid. London’s vastness could hold her and hide her. A female dressmaker was no novelty there, and her trust allowed for time to find the right situation. “I am finally doing the honest thing and returning all I’ve taken from Mr. Sloan. I will have no trouble building a new clientele in London.” She turned to explain to Samuel, but he was no longer where he had been. She looked around and found him making a face at her from around the corner of a booth, he and his friend collapsing into laughter. She wilted and blew him a kiss.

When at last Meg had piled the last of her essential belongings into a trunk, she made her way into the parlor. Under the glow of a single candle, she waited for Miss Reed and Miss Matilde to arrive.

“There you are.” Miss Matilde clattered into the room and draped herself into a chair. “We wondered where you’d gone. What a fine feast.” She paused. “What happened?”

Miss Reed sat beside Meg and took her hand. “Even in the dim light, we can see your tears.”

Meg closed her eyes for the span of three heartbeats, then lifted her chin. “It is over.” She kept her tone calm. “I must send you back to Havenwood.”

Miss Reed folded her arms and lifted a brow, but how could Meg explain when she hardly understood herself?

“I cannot continue running the shop here. It isn’t fair to…” Meg took a breath, sighing out the words. “I misunderstood what friendship means. Sometimes a gift is too grand to accept.”

Miss Matilde knelt before Meg and took her other hand. “I don’t understand. Are we not friends after all we’ve accomplished?”

“You needn’t decide now,” Miss Reed said. “Surely tomorrow your worries will look different.”

But they wouldn’t; Meg must depart tomorrow, and Stroud would revert to the way it had been. It must be as though she had never arrived.

“The Golden Thimble is closed. I leave for London as soon as I can arrange it.” The following day was a Sunday and stagecoaches did not run. She would have to find a post-chaise willing to interrupt his sabbath.

“But I found my place here.” Miss Matilde released Meg’s hand. “I’ve never been happier. Not even at home.”

Miss Reed nodded. “I am useful for the first time in my life. You’ve allowed me to push my limitations until I no longer feel them.”

Meg endured their protestations but finally put up a hand. “I have no other option. I ask that you take any gowns that remain unfinished to Sloan Tailoring. Pack the remaining fabrics. I will send for them when I am ready.” She would hire a man of business in London who would help her arrange a lease on the shop and anything else required to settle her affairs in Stroud.

Meg stood and strode toward the door, where she turned to face the girls. “If one of you would like to accompany me…”

Miss Matilde flicked a glance at Miss Reed, the exchange slight and automatic, an agreement between them that Meg could almost hear. We stay together.

As their employer, Meg was not a part of their group, not really, but the silent conversation conveyed how little they considered her. Meg’s throat tightened as they avoided her scrutiny, rejecting her as one might ignore an uncomfortable truth. Havenwood girls did not require anyone but themselves. Good. Neither did Meg.

Her smile felt like it would break her face in half. “Please, make sure to give Mr. Sloan my deepest apologies for causing strife.” Her voice broke as she made for the door, bent on hiring a carriage for a departure that would take place first thing in the morning.

Meg had succeeded in hiring a post-chaise at considerable expense. She rose before dawn and penned a letter to James.

Dear James,

When you receive this letter, I will be on my return journey to London. Now that I understand the trust, I will manage it myself. Thank you for your sense of honor that provided me such resources. It is a great comfort to me.

I know I make the correct decision but regret settling so far from Samuel. I suppose I should be pleased that he does not require my support. I will miss you and Louisa. The kindness I received at your hands goes beyond duty, though I understand you were rectifying our father’s unscrupulous behavior.

I suppose therein lies the puzzle. Your charity springs from an obligation to fulfill a perceived debt. I can sympathize with that impulse in you, but I cannot reason out Peter Sloan. I wronged and tricked him. Yet when handed an opportunity to end my scheming, he dropped the chance. Only now, having learned his willingness to sacrifice everything for my interest, have I become cognizant of my error. In leaving Stroud, I am gifting Peter what you have given me. The freedom to choose his own path.

My sojourn in Stroud has done little good and much ill. I am not necessary to this place or people, but I am sorry to leave behind my family.

As soon as I am settled, I will write with my address. Please visit when next you are in town.

Your sister,

Meg

She left it on the kitchen table, along with assignments for Giles, the needlewomen, and each of the Havenwood ladies. They would close the shop and receive generous wages for their pains. Giles might return to Sloan or begin his own enterprise. She wished them all the best.