The Girl with the Red Ribbon (32 page)

Rowan nodded.

‘Well, it seems you are going to be busy then.'

‘Oh, I don't mind hard work, Madame Louisa,' Rowan replied happily.

‘Good, because when I saw the mess you'd made of that bonnet yesterday, I was not best pleased.'

Rowan's stomach churned. ‘Surely it wasn't that bad?' she protested.

‘It was atrocious. In fact, I would go as far as to say I have never seen such a dismal effort. I intended to make you revisit it before we moved onto your next instruction. However, as this task is for coverings and trimmings, and you have seen fit to make those recommendations to Miss Richmond, I think we'd better move on. I have my reputation to think of, and her bonnet will
need to be finished to my exacting standard and in a timely manner.'

Feeling relieved, Rowan smiled. She was finding the actual bonnet making harder than she'd imagined, but the trimming would be fun.

‘It's no good thinking you're getting away with it, though, Miss Rowena. You still need to master the art of bonnet making or you'll be no use as a milliner. However, my business must come first, so go and have your luncheon and when you return, we will proceed with your next instruction.'

Hurrying from the workroom, Rowan shook her head. Why did she get the distinct impression Louisa was pleased she'd had difficulty mastering the art of bonnet making?

‘I'm in madam's bad books 'cos she caught me laughing with Jem over the fence this morning,' Maria told Rowan as she entered the kitchen. ‘Went all la-de-da, she did, and said I was on my honour to conduct myself
comme il faut
, which apparently means I got to be prim and proper,' she laughed. ‘Anyway, I got back in her good books by offering to make a fruit crumble for supper. It's her favourite, see.'

‘Oh, Maria, you're incorrigible,' Rowan spluttered.

‘What about you? I saw your admirer following you into the shop. You walking out with him, then?'

Rowan nodded, her heart soaring at the thought. ‘He's offered to show me the sights.'

‘I bet he has,' Maria chuckled. ‘He looks right dandy and if I hadn't got my Jem I'd have given you a run for your money there.'

Rowan
grinned. The maid might be hopeless, but she did make her smile.

‘So you'll be busy making us a fruit crumble this afternoon,' she countered.

‘Well, it was a sop for madam and I managed to get hold of some nice fruit,' she said, giving Rowan a broad wink. ‘Anyway, as my Jem says, it's all good practice for when we're wed. Can you cook, Rowan?'

‘Yes, I used to cook all the time at home.'

‘That's good. 'Tis the best way to keep your man happy,' Maria said, ladling out the broth. ‘Or one of them, anyhow,' she added, giving a raucous laugh.

That afternoon, Rowan found her instruction on linings and coverings far more interesting than the one in the actual bonnet making. When Louisa left her to trace out the crown panel and the main bonnet shape for the inner lining, she found herself humming happily. By the time she'd sewn the rest of the inner lining into the buckram and over the wire at the edges, she felt she'd made good progress.

‘Well, you got to grips with that bit easily enough,' Louisa said, nodding in approval. ‘Let's see how you do with the outer coverings. Trace out the main bonnet shape and crown panel on this material for the outer covering, allowing two inches all round for seams,' she instructed.

Rowan did as she'd been told and then, under Louisa's guidance, cut it out. By the time she'd double folded the edge of the material for the outside of the crown and ironed it flat, she again began to realize that millinery was an art in itself. Louisa returned, nodded her approval again, and then proceeded to show her how to do
herringbone stitch for the outside of the bonnet. Then, as she demonstrated how it was necessary to allow sufficient material to cover the join with half an inch on to the body of the bonnet, Rowan found herself stifling a yawn.

‘Is there much more?' she couldn't help asking, for the room was growing darker and her eyes were gritty with having to concentrate so much.

‘No, we'll call it a day,' Louisa said, stretching her back. ‘Don't worry, you have done well. If you can master the actual construction of the bonnet, we might make a milliner of you yet,' she said. ‘The secret is to imagine the person wearing your creation.'

As a vision of the dark-haired Jack sporting the half-finished bonnet flashed before her, she grinned. She couldn't wait to see him on Sunday.

Promptly at two o'clock on Sunday, the little bell rang and Rowan, wearing the yellow dress Mrs Acland had let her keep, and a bonnet she'd trimmed with a matching buttercup ribbon, hurried to open the door.

‘Enjoy yourself, Miss Rowena, and remember not to say anything about your stay in the asylum. It would do neither your reputation nor my business any good whatsoever if that got around, unfortunate mistake though it was. Now off you go and have a pleasant afternoon,' Louisa said with a smile.

‘Yes, Madame Louisa,' Rowan replied, remembering her near miss with Camilla and vowing to be more careful. Then she saw Jack smiling at her through the window and hurried outside.

‘You look stunning, Miss Rowena. That colour really suits you. Now, where would you like to explore first?' he asked.

‘It's such a lovely afternoon, why don't we wander along the Mall? No disrespect to Madame Louisa, but I'm going crazy as a caged cat being cooped up indoors all the time.'

‘What an interesting notion,' he said, quirking his eyebrow. ‘Let us release you from your cage and promenade along the Mall then. I understand the band will be playing this afternoon, and we could stop for refreshment at the coffee shop. How does that sound, Miss Rowena?'

‘It
sounds heavenly, apart from one thing,' she said, staring up at him.

‘What's that?' he asked.

‘Please can you call me Rowan whilst we are out?' she ventured to ask.

‘Whatever the lady wishes,' he declared gallantly, giving a little bow.

They'd only gone a few paces when Jack turned to her and whispered, ‘I think someone is trying to attract your attention.' Looking up, Rowan saw Mrs Parker crossing the road and she stifled a groan.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Parker,' she called, quickening her step so that before long they'd left the woman behind.

Jack stared down at her quizzically. ‘Not someone you wanted to encounter?'

‘I'm afraid Mrs Parker is renowned for being the Saltmouth tittle-tattle. Madame Louisa says her ears grow by at least to two inches when she hears something salacious,' Rowan said, and grinned up at him shyly.

Jack threw back his head and laughed. ‘I think it might be her nose that grows, too.'

‘Yes, nosy Parker, very good,' she said, grinning up at him.

‘Well, here we are with the sparkling waters of Lyme Bay spread out before us, so let's enjoy our promenade,' Jack said as they reached the sea front. ‘Although I dare say you will be busy studying the ladies' fine bonnets to see how you could make better ones.'

Rowan sighed. ‘To be honest, I don't care if I never see another bonnet again,' she blurted out.

Jack
stopped walking and turned to face her. ‘All not well in Milliners' Row?' he enquired.

‘I had no idea there was so much to it. Madame Louisa was not at all impressed with my first attempt, although she said I did better with the linings and coverings.'

‘Well, that's good, is it not? We all have to learn from our mistakes so don't be too hard on yourself. Do you know, on my first day at the station here, the others sent me out for a pint of elbow grease. They said it was for waterproofing the boats. The ribbing I got as I trailed around Saltmouth asking for some.' He looked so affronted, Rowan burst out laughing.

‘I don't believe that for one moment. You just said that to make me feel better.'

‘And it worked, did it not?' he said with a grin. ‘Now let's enjoy our stroll; we have precious few hours off to waste them.'

As they continued their walk along the Mall, mingling with the other elegantly attired ladies and gentlemen who were taking a stroll, Rowan felt happiness bubble up inside her. It was so good to be out in the fresh air again, and the recent high tide had swept the beach quite clean. The sun was glinting on the imposing red cliffs that enclosed the bay, and she could hear lively music coming from the bandstand. She stared at the little cottages with their backs to the sea and shook her head.

‘What a waste of a view. If I lived in one of those, I'd have my windows facing the water like those Regency houses we just passed, so I could watch the waves dance,' she said.

‘It
might seem idyllic now, but come the winter storms, which sweep water right over their roofs, you would soon change your mind,' Jack pointed out, as they turned off the Mall. He stopped outside a handsome three-storey Regency building on which was a sign advertising ‘Free Library and Coffee House'. Through the open doors to the balcony Rowan could see people sitting taking refreshment and Jack proposed that this seemed the ideal place to have a rest.

‘Tell me about yourself, Rowan,' Jack asked as they enjoyed their afternoon tea and scones spread with cream and jam. ‘What did you do before you came here?'

Rowan's heart sank. Mindful of Louisa's warning, she gave him a sketchy description of life on the farm but she found the memories painful and her voice tailed off.

‘Is something wrong?' he enquired solicitously.

‘Talking about the farm reminded me of my stepmother. She took a real dislike to me and – well, it's probably best that I'm away from there.'

Jack frowned. ‘I can't imagine anyone not liking you, Rowan. You're such a warm person, and Aunt Camilla thinks you're quite lovely. She said you had the most open face she'd ever seen.'

Rowan swallowed hard and, in an attempt to hide her emotions, picked up her scone. It wasn't a patch on her auntie Sal's splitties, although she was too polite to mention it. Still, it was no good dwelling on her past. Having ascertained from her employer that no letter had arrived from her father, she had to come to terms with the fact he didn't want to contact her. She would concentrate on the here and now, she thought, turning her attention back to Jack. Sensitive to her mood, he smiled.

‘Well,
if you've been used to roaming wide open spaces it's not surprising you hate being cooped up indoors,' he said, then began regaling her with tales of his training until she found herself relaxing once more.

‘Like you, I much prefer the great outdoors. Yesterday we rowed out to intercept smugglers returning from France, their luggers laden with booty of brandy, baccy and spices. Do you know how they hide it?' Rowan shook her head. ‘They weight down the barrels, throw them overboard and then mark where they've hidden them with a row of corks to make out they've set fishing nets. They call it “sowing the crop”. Well, Jack Carslake is wise to that, and when they go back to reap their crop – that's lifting it up again – I shall nab them,' he vowed, rubbing his hands together vigorously.

‘All by yourself?' she couldn't resist teasing.

‘Well,' he said, having the grace to look abashed, ‘the other Preventatives will help, of course. There's still a lot to learn, yet already I feel I'm making a difference. You wouldn't believe how much revenue these scoundrels avoid paying.' She smiled at his earnest expression and picked up her teacup. The walk in the salty air had made her thirsty and she sipped her drink gratefully. Glancing over at Jack, she saw him staring at her wrist, where the cuff of her sleeve had risen.

‘I can't help noticing you always wear that red ribbon around your wrist. Is it for decoration or does is have some special significance?' She gave him a calculating look and was just wondering if she should be truthful and risk him asking her more questions about her family, when he added, giving his cheeky grin, ‘I only mention it because
if it was some fashionable accessory, I can't help feeling, with your passion for matching colours, you would have chosen to wear a yellow band today.'

He was certainly observant, Rowan thought, placing her cup back on its saucer.

‘This ribbon represents the circle of life and was the last thing my mother gave me before she died,' she whispered. ‘She always wore it, believing that when we depart this world, our spirit stays within the family, gently guiding us. In that way we are never forgotten.'

Jack reached over and gently patted her hand. ‘What a wonderful sentiment. She sounds a remarkable person, and I can tell you loved her very much,' he said, his penetrating gaze holding hers.

‘Yes, and I do sense her presence guiding me sometimes. I suppose you think that's farcical.'

‘Far from it, Rowan, it must be reassuring to feel she is still with you. You know, you and Auntie have quite a lot in common. She is convinced she can feel the presence of her betrothed in her beloved garden, or even when she is flicking through the pages of her
hortus siccus
.'

‘Her what?'

He laughed at her bemused expression. ‘It's an album with dried flowers in,' he explained.

‘Oh, I should love to see that,' she cried, then could have bitten her tongue in case he should think her forward. But his eyes lit up.

‘Then I shall ask Auntie to invite you to tea so that she can show you,' he replied, getting to his feet. ‘Now, I really must escort you safely back to the shop, or Madame
Louisa will be on the war path. I don't want to spoil our first time out together by blotting my copybook.'

She smiled. How considerate he was or maybe he'd had enough of her company and was merely being polite, she thought with a pang. But his next words allayed her worries.

‘I have enjoyed this afternoon and trust we can do it again soon?' He stood looking down at her hopefully, and although her heart was beating like the clappers on the church bells, she strove to keep her voice casual.

‘That would be nice,' she replied, getting to her feet and brushing down her skirts.

‘I shall forever think of this as our place now, Rowan.'

She looked at him, not sure if he was jesting but he seemed perfectly serious.

As they were making their way outside again, Rowan felt a burning sensation in her back. Certain someone was watching her, she glanced round to find herself staring into the blue-grey eyes of Louisa's father. His companion was a flaxen-haired young girl, beautifully attired in the latest mode. He lifted his glass in greeting but the look on his face made her shiver.

However, as they walked back along on the Mall, Jack regaled her with yet more of his amusing anecdotes and she soon forgot about Louisa's father.

‘Thank you for a lovely afternoon, Jack,' she said, as they reached the shop.

‘I'm sure by the time we next meet you will have mastered the art of bonnet making,' he gallantly assured her.

‘And you will have found that elbow grease,' she
grinned, letting herself in through the entry as the church bells began ringing for evening worship.

‘Did you have a good time, Miss Rowena?' Louisa asked, coming out of the workroom, dressed in her Sunday best. ‘Although that question is superfluous as I can tell by the flush to your cheeks you have. Maria has saved some of her wonderful crumble for your supper and when you have eaten that, I suggest you get an early night. We need to go through the first stages of bonnet making again, so I'll see you in the workroom first thing in the morning,' she said, pulling on her calfskin gloves.

‘I'm happy to make a start after supper, Madame Louisa,' Rowan offered, anxious to please her employer.

‘Judging from the stars in your eyes, Miss Rowena, you will be in no fit state to concentrate. Now, I shall be late for the service if I don't get a move on. Good evening.'

As she bade her employer good evening, Rowan wondered if she should mention seeing her father in the Coffee House, then dismissed the notion. She might ask if he'd been alone and Rowan wouldn't wish to lie. Then she realized that her seeing him out with his companion was probably the reason for him giving her that strange look.

‘Well, what was he like?' Maria asked eagerly, as Rowan went through to the kitchen. She thought she'd be too excited to feel hungry but the delicious aroma of the fruit dessert and custard made her stomach rumble.

‘Who?' Rowan teased.

‘That posh Preventative, of course. Did he take you anywhere nice?' The maid was all agog.

‘We went for a stroll along the Mall and took afternoon tea in the Coffee House.'

‘Ooh,
you took afternoon tea,' Maria teased. ‘I hope you remembered to raise your little pinkie,' she giggled, holding up her little finger.

Rowan smiled. ‘What about you? Did you have a good time with Jem?'

‘We went for a walk up Pyke's Way. And very productive it was too,' she giggled, pointing to the broad beans in the sink.

‘Oh, Maria, you didn't filch them?'

‘There's so many there, no one will notice a few missing,' the unrepentant maid said, grinning.

‘It's a shame it's the wrong time for elderberries. They would be perfect for dying Miss Richmond's ribbons.'

Maria's face brightened. ‘Now it just so happens I got some preserved,' she said, opening a cupboard door and pointing to a large jar. ‘As you've seen, madam loves a crumble so I always bottle what fruit I can. Pays to keep in her good books, like.' She winked at Rowan, conspiratorially.