That wasn’t the worst of it, though. As he helped Mr. Gordon, Mr. Kenton, and the earl of Bridlington pile the crested barouche high with bolts of fabric—and the earl, to his surprise, worked right alongside them with no discernible hesitation and despite his decided limp, not even insisting that the footman standing behind the carriage help them—his heart plummeted into his stomach. This would be the end of any hope he might have to win Miss Dawkins. She was a successful businesswoman, themost admired modiste in theton.It surprised him a bit that she would think that not fulfilling the anonymous order could seriously damage her reputation. With the backing—and design genius—of Lady Bridlington, thetonwas unlikely to be put off.
Somehow, though, itwasimportant to her. Important enough that she felt she must stay awake all night and sew.
“Is there room for the three of us?” Lady Bridlington asked, her voice light and touched with humor.
“Yes Ma’am,” Cooper said, and reached his hand out to help her in. But the earl got there first and tenderly assisted his very pregnant wife into the vehicle. Seeing him grasp her with his hands on each side of her torso, Cooper was just as glad he hadn’t been called upon to do that.
Miss Carp climbed up without any assistance and Miss Dawkins was about to do the same. Should he let her? Would she welcome the help, or disdain it now that he was an unemployed nobody?Be brave,he admonished, and put out his hand to her.
Miss Dawkins took it and looked at him with troubled eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she climbed up slowly and turned to settle herself against the squabs.
Sorry for what?Cooper wondered. Sorry she would have to end this budding flirtation with him? Did she see it as that, or was he kidding himself? Sorry she’d been the unwitting means of depriving him of his livelihood? Perhaps he was nothing more than a useful implement to her.
The barouche set off in the direction of Madame Pauline’s. Cooper stood watching it for a moment before noticing that Mr. Gordon and Mr. Kenton stood next to him. He shivered and rubbed his hands together. He hadn’t stopped to put on his greatcoat and hat, and it was no warmer today than it had been all week.
“Let’s go and join them, shall we?” Gordon said with forced cheerfulness.
The three of them went back inside to put on their winter gear. Cooper said, “Are you sure she’ll—they’ll want me there? I’m no longer a journeyman tailor.”
Mr. Gordon took hold of Cooper’s arm in a strong clasp and said, “Taking away a position does not take away a man’s identity. You are and always will be a journeyman tailor. And Pauline needs you.”
Cooper gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Then what?”
“Then it’s up to you,” Gordon said, tapping the side of his nose.
CHAPTER 11
Augusta climbed down from the barouche with her husband’s help so that the bolts of material along with all the garment pieces could be more easily unloaded. She watched Pauline take charge in that way she had of being brisk and businesslike but still friendly and her heart swelled with affection. They had started out friends and remained so even though Augusta was now the Countess of Bridlington and Pauline was—just Pauline.
“Are you coming in, My Lady?” Pauline asked.
Miss Carp scowled at her. “Lady Bridlington needs to go and rest!”
“It’s all right, Phyllida,” Augusta said. “I’ll just have a quick word with Pauline inside.” She threaded her arm through Pauline’s and they walked into the showroom together. Pale winter sunlight streamed through the windows on three sides of the square display space at the front of the shop, where torso forms on stands wore two pink muslin day dresses, making Augusta shiver at the thought of wearing so little. But the spring season would be upon them before they knew it.
Sally came running out as soon as the shop door opened.
“Miss Dawkins! I was that worried when I woke up and took you yer tea and you wasn’t there. And My Lady!”
“It’s all right, Sally,” Pauline said. “Something came up, but I’m here now. Along with some fellows who will help us with an odd commission I received last night.”
Sally peered in the direction of the open workroom door.
“If you could put the kettle on. We’re all thirsty and hungry.”
“Yes Miss,” Sally said dipping two curtsies, one to Pauline and a slightly deeper one to Augusta, and than skittered back to the kitchen.
Sally was a good girl,Pauline thought, suddenly realizing that she was positively weak with hunger. She was also relieved to be back in her own domain, not working in someone else’s space. The main workroom door stood open, and the voices of the three men spilled into the showroom. The walk from Conduit Street was not far, and they’d arrived at the same time as the barouche, the slippery cobbles making it impossible for the horses to go any faster than a walk.
As they settled themselves to work, all business, Aloysius took command in his usual way, giving instructions about where to find scissors and thread and measuring rods and which torso forms to use, where to find the pins. They sounded happier, Pauline thought, than they had in Meyer’s shop. The workroom featured no elegant display window, just three simple casements that opened onto a back street. Pauline had chosen the location so that customers shopping on Bruton Street would see the finished products to whet their appetites and open their purses, and the seamstresses and cutters would have enough light to work and only the delivery boys and tradesmen would peer in as the work progressed. The cutting and pressing was done onthe floor above, where there was another room large enough for three more seamstresses.
Yes, it was good to be back. She, Aloysius, and Augusta had collaborated on choosing the premises and allocating the space. Perhaps that was why something about the atmosphere promoted a feeling of camaraderie. Pauline had worked hard to encourage her employees to feel a sense of both pride and belonging there. She smiled with satisfaction at the thought.
But she was brought down to earth with a resounding crash a moment later.
“Pauline, I can’t stay to help you.” Augusta had not moved from the spot she stood in when they’d first entered the showroom
“Yes, I know you shouldn’t ought to be here, you so close to your time and all. You must be all done up!”
