AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, my father is a tailor. He makes clothes for both ladies and gentlemen of the ton, but he is an old hand at this business. I’d be amazed if anyone knew more about it than he does.” Rosaline placed down the laces, clearly so taken by the idea that she could not speak and organize at the same time. “I am sure he would be happy to give you some advice on the shop and answer any other questions you have.”
“Truly?” Chloe stepped forward. “Do you think you could set up a meeting with him? If he is too busy to spare the time, perhaps a letter would suffice? I would just be so glad for a few pointers in the right direction.”
“I am sure he would be happy to do so!” Rosaline declared with eagerness. “You should see my father with his customers. Charm, pure charm and smiles. He has them wrapped around his finger in no time.”
“A born salesman then.”
“Yes, indeed. I am seeing him this evening. I will ask then if he can give you some advice.”
“Thank you, Rosaline. I would be truly grateful.” As Chloe returned her focus to the laces, she soon noticed that Rosaline couldn’t concentrate. She was dancing back and forth, humming a tune under her breath. “Are you reliving one of your dances with Lord Gloucester?”
“Oh, is it so noticeable?” Rosaline fell still abruptly.
“You carry on. I will not begrudge you your enjoyment.” Chloe was more than happy to replay her own dance with Leo in her own head.
Chapter 12
Rosaline
“Careful, lass! You’ll knock one of us down these days!”
“Oops, I’m sorry!” Rosaline called to one of the market sellers as she hurried across Covent Garden, running so fast in her eagerness that she barely put one foot in front of another cleanly without stepping on the hem of her gown.
I must speak to him. I must speak to my father!
Scarcely another thought had crossed her mind since offering to be of service to Chloe. Rosaline was so consumed by her intention that she flitted between the groups in the market, sometimes getting stuck in the larger crowds, and other times hurrying ahead, like a butterfly flying so swiftly past that it barely took notice of all it left behind.
At the far end of the market, she left the square and darted down a street, in the direction of her father’s shop. With her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, she held it firmly in place, knowing how to hold it in such a way that the holes across the edge of the material could not be seen. With the bonnet beginning to slip from her head, her red curls were becoming wilder, escaping down her cheeks in mad curls. She brushed these curls out of the way as she turned the final corner, reaching her father’s shop.
“Papa?” She burst into the shop, making the bell tinkle over the top of the door.
At the far end of the shop, Alfred turned to face her. He waved a mad hand in her direction, then pressed a finger to his lips and gestured to a gentleman behind him.
“I’ll take this one, Mr. Baker.”
“An excellent choice, sir, if I may say so.” Alfred turned with an easy smile back to his customer, leaving Rosaline to hurry off into a corner of the shop, feigning interest in some of the materials. “It shows what good taste you have, my lord. Quite excellent to choose a garment of this fine quality.”
“Thank you, Mr. Baker.” The gentleman stood taller, reminding Rosaline of a cat preening under the praise and adoration of its owner.
My father is certainly a man for flattery!
Rosaline hid her smile by bending down to admire the fabrics, keeping a watch out of the corner of her eye. She waited for the gentleman to finish his business with her father. The whole time, Rosaline stepped from side to side, humming a tune quietly to herself.
“Hum—diddee, dee . . .” She went on lyrically, remembering in particular the last dance she had shared with Lord Gloucester at the ball a couple of weeks before.
She had never thought such a man would spend the entire night with her, but he had. They had talked at length together, and laughed over their wine glasses, hidden together in corners of the ballroom. When Rosaline had told him on more than one occasion that she wouldn’t mind if he went off and greeted some of his friends, he had shrugged it off.
“I am very happy where I am, Miss Baker. Very happy indeed.”The way he had whispered the words and held her gaze had sent a thrill through her body so strongly that she had nearly dropped her wine glass.
When the bell over the shop door tinkled another time, Rosaline was brought back to the room. She looked up, seeing that the gentleman had departed, and she turned her focus towards her father.
Alfred was at the far end of the shop, smiling as he looked in a mirror and preened his rather vast mustache.
“Another great sale, Rosaline. So many this week,” he murmured with delight and turned back to face her, with his rotund belly nearly pressing against the table he stood behind. “A profitable time indeed, it seems.”
“I am very happy for you, father,” Rosaline said and hastened across the shop, moving around the tables where various materials and accessories lay glinting in the day’s sunlight.
“You are back early? I did not expect you to return from the Duke’s estate just yet.” Alfred looked wary. “I hope you are taking your job seriously, Rose.” The nickname he always gave her made her stand taller on this occasion, for it was coupled with critique.
