“Tell Mr. Cooper here what you told me, Kenton.”
He smiled joyfully as he said, “I’m not going back to Meyer’s. Never again. Worst place I ever worked.”
“What’ll you do?” Cooper asked, wondering how the presser could have the courage to willingly give up employment with one of the finest tailors in London.
Mr. Kenton glanced at Mr. Gordon, who nodded to him. “I’m staying here. Mr. Gordon says they need another presser. And besides?—”
Gordon interrupted him. “Time enough to talk about that when we’ve finished this work.”
“So you’re not giving up either?” Cooper was a little surprised—and relieved. At least, he thought, if the two of them were staying he could do this one thing for her. Get as close as possible to completing this absurd order.
At that moment, the bells in the showroom tinkled as the front door opened to admit a babel of female voices and a blast of cold air.
“It’s odd, innit?”
“She says we’ll be paid. But why send us over to Meyer’s first?”
“She prob’ly had her reasons.”
A moment later, three of Madame Pauline’s best seamstresses, bundled up in their warmest cloaks and scarves, came into the workroom and stopped, bumping into each other, mouths open in astonishment.
Mr. Gordon bustled forward and said, “Ah! Good. You’re here. Get yourselves settled at a table with your things. We have quite a task ahead of us. Molly, you do the seams on the walking dresses. Agatha, finish tacking the silk evening gowns together, I’ll help, and then the two of us will help Mr. Kenton with the velvet evening cloaks. Mrs. Higgins,” he said to the oldest one among them who wore a widow’s cap, “Give Mr. Cooper some assistance with the merino pelisses.”
“But we don’t do no pelisses here!” Molly said, tossing her sandy curls and putting her hands on her hips.
“We do whatever I say we do. Now get to work. We only have…” He took out his pocket watch again and stared at it. “We only have about twenty hours left if we work all night to finish two evening gowns, two day dresses, two evening cloaks, and two pelisses.”
Agatha swept the room with her sharp eyes. “All I see here is bits and bobs.”
“That’s right,” Gordon said, “And they’re soon going to turn into the most beautiful clothing anyone has ever seen.”
The three ladies exchanged skeptical glances. Gordon quickly explained about the order and the threat.
“Why ain’t Madame ’ere then?” Agatha asked.
“She had to take Lady Bridlington back to Berkeley Square. She was… indisposed.”
Molly rolled her eyes. When Mr. Gordon turned away, Cooper made a shape over his stomach with his hand as if it bulged out a long way, trying to convey the situation more clearly. A moment later, Agatha covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes merry, and Mrs. Higgins nodded knowingly. After that they made no more fuss. They shed their warm cloaks and scarves and situated themselves where Mr. Gordon had told them to, wasting no time before taking up their needles and bending their heads to concentrated work.
Phew!Cooper thought.It was a small miracle. In all the excitement over the countess and being thrown out of Meyer’s, he forgot about the notes Jem had delivered to the seamstresses. In one stroke, their numbers were doubled. From being utterly impossible the task suddenly seemed almost achievable. It was still by no means certain that even with the extra help they could get everything done. And he was starting to feel a little dizzy from having no sleep for more than twenty-four hours. He hoped he could manage to work at his fastest.
It didn’t matter though. If this was going to be the only time he could help Miss Dawkins—Pauline—he would do whatever it took. He may not be suitable as a beau, or a husband—marriage? What brought that into his mind? He hardly knew her. They’d said almost nothing to each other, and only touched hands once or twice. He’d been on the point of asking her to walk out withhim after Christmas sometime when Meyer came in and spoiled everything.
Even that would have been bold. He did not know her well enough to judge how she would take such an invitation.
Except in his heart he did know her. He saw her. Witnessing how she was, the way she cared for Lady Bridlington, her determination, her skill, and now—judging by the willingness of the three seamstresses she’d persuaded to give up their holiday and come to fulfill a desperate, last-minute order—the way her workers admired and loved her. Cooper was certain he’d never find another woman like her. Even before that night, something about her the first time he saw her back in October had stayed with him. It was more than attraction or infatuation or blind love. She touched him on a deep level, as if the possibility always existed that they could understand each other without having to exchange a single word. Which was fortunate, considering what a mull he made of it every time he tried to talk to her.
The fact remained that he never thought he would ever meet someone like her.
But it couldn’t be, not now. For all Aloysius said, he, Benjamin Cooper, was worth nothing. Despite the fact that Miss Dawkins didn’t need him to support her financially, he doubted she would ever look twice at a man who no longer had a profession, a trade, and who couldn’t hold his own. What if something happened to her and she couldn’t work? He’d have to be able to put food on their table and a roof over their heads, and if there were children …
There it was, that crazy idea of marriage again.
No, it was absolutely impossible.
At that moment Sally came back into the workshop with a tray full of steaming cups of coffee and, after distributing them to everyone, cleared away the dirty cups from before. “Miss Dawkins said afore she left I’m to bring you nuncheon andanything else you want.” She dipped a curtsy and headed back toward the kitchen.
But Cooper didn’t see her leave. He had already started on the bodice of the second pelisse, having set Mrs. Higgins to work on the long seams of the skirt.
