The old lady spoke up. “Mind your manners, young man! This is the Countess of Bridlington, and she has a sight more right to be here than you, I wager. I am her servant.”
“It’s all right, Phyllida. Mr. Cooper is to fetch something for Pauline. She must have gone out, apparently to Mr. Meyer’s workshop, for what reason I do not know.”
“If you’ll give me leave I can explain,” Cooper said.
CHAPTER 7
Thus it was that, a few short minutes later, Augusta, Phyllida, Mr. Cooper, and three bolts of the finest pale blue merino squeezed into a hack and drove to Conduit Street. When they walked into the workshop—where one gown was already taking shape thanks to Pauline’s quick work—Pauline shrieked.
“Gussie—Lady Bridlington! I didn’t mean for you to come. Sit yerself here. Take a load off.” She bustled over to her old friend and business partner and all but dragged her to a stool. “I just wanted your advice, is all. You didn’t ought to come out at this hour, and in your delicate condition!”
Pauline kept talking and giving instructions until Augusta said, “Pauline! Enough! I did not receive a letter from you. I arrived at the atelier just before Mr. Cooper did.”
“And I’ve the lump on me ’ead to prove it,” he said.
Pauline turned to him, shocked. “What do you mean?”
When the situation was fully explained, Pauline wanted to sink into the floor. What had she done? Nothing Augusta could say would convince her it wasn’t all her fault.
Mr. Cooper himself put an end to her self-recriminations. “No need to throw it in yer own dish. There’s no harm done, andI’ve got the merino. Trouble is we still haven’t figgered out how to get all this done in …”
Aloysius once more pulled his watch out of his pocket. “Thirty hours.”
This silenced everyone.
“What did your letter to me say, Pauline?” Augusta asked.
“I only wanted to ask if we should try to get some of the girls back to help. I’d want to pay ’em extra is the thing.”
“Do you know which ones might be willing?”
Pauline reached into her pocket and pulled out a list she’d made of the seamstresses she knew would welcome the additional income and who wouldn’t mind coming back to work just before Christmas.
Augusta cast her eye down the list. “I think this is good,” she said. “There’s one name missing, though.”
“I know none of the others would agree to it, M’Lady,” Pauline said.
Augusta smiled and raised one eyebrow. “My name is not on your list.”
“Oh no Ma’am! I’d never ask, not with you, and all?—”
“You didn’t ask, I offered. Now, tell me what to do.”
Everyone shuffled around so Augusta could have the most comfortable seat with ample room for her ungainly form. Pauline brought her the gown she’d tacked together and had her hem the seams. That way their edges would be finished before the final fittings, which would happen on Christmas morning, so Pauline supposed—although she hoped the mysterious customer would arrive before it was time for church. Christmas was the one day a year she made sure to go. She was normally too busy to take the time on Sundays.
As they all got to work, it was left to Phyllida and Jem to go to the homes of the seamstresses on Pauline’s list. Phyllida’s hands were too wracked with arthritis to be any use, and Jem coulddart around town like a little rat. “Take my mittens, Phyllida,” Lady Bridlington said, holding out the rabbit-fur-lined mitts she had bought when the weather got so cold.
“Oh no m’Lady!” Phyllida said. “I mustn’t.”
“Nonsense! Take them!”
Pauline recognized the voice that would brook no argument, and was glad to see Miss Carp relent and put the luxurious calfskin mittens on her cold hands. But Pauline was not easy about Lady Bridlington staying to work with them. Not that she was too high and mighty—never that—but she was so near her time.
“Perfect color merino, My Lady,” Pauline said, casting an admiring eye over the bolts that Aloysius was now unrolling on the large cutting table. “It’s better than the bit Aloysius found at first.”
“Mr. Cooper chose it,” Augusta said, smiling warmly at the tailor, who blushed.
So, Cooper had an eye as well as skilled hands, Pauline thought, and without realizing she was doing it, watched him whip tiny, tight stitches into a shoulder seam. Graceful, she thought, recalling the moment their fingers had touched and imagining them trailing up her arm.
