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She folded her hands across her lap. “Half of one, yes.”
Lady Winman smiled and began pulling off her gloves. “Yet it is called Mrs. Shelton’s and not Mrs. Pearsall’s.”
“It is.”
There was a pause long enough for Sylvia to begin to question whether she’d been entirely wise in confiding in the countess. However, Lady Winman finally said, “I imagine there is a very good reason for that, and I hope one day you might tell me. However, I understand if you don’t wish to do that today, because I know how funny high society can be when it comes to women and business.”
Despite all her rationalization, Sylvia’s shoulders still inched down a fraction at the countess’s words. “Yes. Although apparently it is all well and good for men to be in one of the more gentlemanly professions.”
“Including earls,” said Lady Winman with a little quirk to her lips.
“You were a writer before you met your husband,” Sylvia said cautiously.
“And an editor. That was the job I was most proud of—the one I worked hardest for, for so many years. People so often forget about that when they gossip.” Lady Winman sighed. “I know I’m an anomaly. The countess who grew up a professor’s daughter with no dream of ever being presented at court.”
“May I ask how you cope?”
Lady Winman tilted her head, her dark hair falling over her eye. “With what? The gossip? Or the end of my career as I knew it?”
“Both.”
The countess seemed to consider the question. “I worked for one of Alistair’s magazines when I met him, and the editor in chief thought it inappropriate that I continue on, no matter how much Alistair railed at him. Of course, none of his competitors would employ me, so I had to make a choice between my career and him. As much as I loved the magazine, I love Alistair more.”
“But isn’t it difficult?” Sylvia asked almost before she could stop herself.
When Lady Winman laughed, it was genuine, full-throated. “Of course it’s difficult. Sometimes it feels impossible, and all I want to do is scream. I know that some people think I trapped my husband, that he had to marry me. But I know that they’re wrong. Not only because my daughter came a year after we married but because I know my own heart. He is the only man who could have made me want to give up the life I had for the one I have married into.”
Sylvia blushed.
“Now I’ve gone and shocked you,” said Lady Winman, amusement lacing her voice.
“No, you haven’t. It’s… refreshing.”
“Then perhaps you’ll indulge me a little. How long have you owned half of this shop?” asked Lady Winman.
“Not long at all. My sister and I inherited equal portions when my mother died late last year,” she explained. “Izzie is currently serving with the WAAF.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Lady Winman.
“Thank you.” She paused, knowing that she probably shouldn’t say more but finding it difficult to turn off the tap of frankness now that it was open. “I actually grew up above the shop. At least after the age of eleven. My mother opened it shortly after my father died.”
“Then being a woman of business runs in your family,” said Lady Winman.
An unexpected swell of pride filled Sylvia’s chest. “I suppose it does,” she said, just as Miss Reid returned with Izzie’s sketchbook in hand.
“Thank you, Miss Reid,” she said, taking the book. “Perhaps you would stay and offer your advice to Lady Winman about cut and fabrics?”
Miss Reid’s brows shot up, but then she nodded. “If you wish.”
“Now, my lady,” Sylvia said, “shall we see if there is something in here that will suit?”
“I’ve never dressed a countess before,” said Miss Reid as soon as Lady Winman had left the shop, having fallen in love with a sketch of a light-green-and-white-striped summer dress that wiped away any thought of a summer suit.
“I would imagine it’s a first for the shop,” said Sylvia, trying to hide her smile at the thought of what her sister—or even her mother—would say about this.
“How do you think she learned about us?” Miss Reid asked.
“Do you remember the day I was splashed coming in and had to change into the dress you’d made from one of Izzie’s sketches? Lady Winman was at the meeting that I had to run off to. She complimented the dress you made, and I gave her the name of the shop,” she said.