Twilight 0f Memory (Historical Regency Romance)

by Patricia Watters

  "But we have all of that here in Victoria with the prospectors," Lady Cromwell parried.

  Sarah felt a growing unrest in the face of the woman's blatant hostility. Struggling to hold her voice calm, she said, "But when the goldfields play out and the prospectors move on they should leave behind a prosperous city."

  Lady Cromwell pinned her with an icy glare. "They will leave behind a city populated by greed-driven Americans."

  Esther took her mother's elbow. "Come, Mother. Dinner is ready."

  Lady Cromwell looked over her shoulder at Jon and scowled, clearly displeased that he wasn't the one to escort her to dinner as protocol demanded.

  Jon ignored his mother. Collecting Sarah's hand, he tucked it into the crook of his elbow and said, as he ushered her toward the dining room, "Please excuse our mother. She was unprepared for visitors."

  "Yes, I can see everyone was." Sarah's attention became divided between the gist of their conversation and the feel of an unusually muscular arm. Looking up at him, she added, "My maid and I will see to finding other quarters at once."

  "That would be a bloody shame and would hamper things greatly," Jon said in a hushed voice. "If you spirit yourself away, how are we to conduct a proper dalliance?" His gaze lingered on her mouth.

  Sarah gave him a faint, insolent smile. "We aren't."

  Jon leaned toward her. "Now there's a grim thought I'll simply dismiss."

  Sarah looked at him sharply, and when he gave no indication her jaded look affected him, except perhaps amusement when he was unable to hold back a smile, she turned from him and focused on a table graced with crystal goblets, and a pair of elegant silver candelabra. Adjacent to the table stood a sideboard displaying a silver tureen filled with steaming green pea soup; a silver tray with a poached salmon decorated with black olives and egg slices; a platter with a ham garnished with cloves and pineapple rings; and serving bowls and trays containing glazed carrots, steamed chard, muffins, fritters, tarts, cheeses, and an assortment of small cakes.

  Jon seated first his mother, then Sarah, and lastly Esther. After the soup was served, Lady Cromwell, who sat opposite Jon, looked down the length of the long table at her son, and said, "Jonathan, we need more illumination in the streets. There was another incident in town. Young John Work stumbled on the planks on Government Street and fell into the ditch."

  Esther took a banana fritter from the platter offered by Ida. "The way I heard, it was young John Work stumbled out of the Brown Jug, dizzy as a goose, which is why he fell into the ditch."

  Lady Cromwell shot a stony glance at her daughter. "Be that as it may the problem still persists."

  Sarah looked at Jon, baffled. "Does the city not have gas lighting? I was certain I saw lamps lining the main thoroughfare."

  "You did, but the lamps are not in use as we've been plagued with air leaking into the mains, but the problem will soon be remedied and the streets will again be lighted, at least in the mercantile district."

  "I'm relieved to hear that," Sarah said, reflecting on the tall storefront she fancied as one day being hers, a building with two brass lanterns adorning its fine brick facade.

  Jon looked at her with curiosity. "Is there a reason for your concern about our mercantile district after sundown?" he asked.

  "Yes," Sarah replied. "I plan to establish my own business."

  Jon cocked a brow. "A business that requires lighting at night?"

  Sarah gave him a sharp look. "I plan to establish a modiste, which will be supervised and operated by women for the manufacture and sale of women's garments. It will frequently require my being in the building at night to sew garments and work on the books."

  Jon eyed her with skepticism. "Have you operated such a business before?"

  Sarah shrugged. "Of course. My father was a very successful clothier."

  "I'm not asking about your father. The manufacture of clothing is a man's trade. I'm asking about you."

  "I spent countless hours working with my father in his business and helping with his books," Sarah said. "I even drove the delivery wagon on many occasions."

  "Many women in Victoria also help their fathers and husbands," Jon pointed out, "however, none burden themselves with the sole management of such a business. Women being the gentler sex are not conditioned to the harshness and brutality of the business world."

  "I beg to differ with you," Sarah said, "but through the ages, women have borne greater harshness and brutality from drunken and abusive husbands. Men lead women to believe that as the gentler sex they're incapable of honorable independence, but in truth, men fear if women are given equal education they might excel and, in fact, be capable of performing all the duties in the positions men now hold exclusively, including those in government."

  Jon looked at her, incredulous. "Surely you don't believe a woman could hold public office?"

  Sarah lifted her chin. "Of course we could. That we are incapable of handling a man's business is a most absurd bit of twaddle. We are responsible, intelligent beings, so why should we not be allowed to make our own way in this world?"

  Esther looked at her brother. "Perhaps you should not underestimate today's more independent woman, Jon. I suspect you have at least one daughter who shares her views."

  "Josephine's naive and impressionable, as are all young women her age," Jon said. "She may believe she shares Miss Ashley's views, but I trust she'll come to her senses."

  Lady Cromwell's voice had the sharp snap of a whip, as she said, "That is precisely why the girls should attend St. Ann's Academy, where they would receive moral guidance, or the next thing we shall see is Josephine flaunting herself in trousers."

  Esther gave Sarah a bland smile then promptly changed the subject as she addressed her mother, and said, "Sarah brought with her two Singer sewing machines and she's offered to teach the girls and me how to operate them."

  Lady Cromwell peered over the gold rims of her spectacles. "There is no need. Both girls have a deft hand with the needle."

  "But with a sewing machine a seam can be stitched in a fraction of the time," Esther argued.

  "Which will undoubtedly create a crude, uneven seam," Lady Cromwell countered.

  "On the contrary," Esther parried, "the seams are quite straight." She turned to Sarah. "When do you expect to have the machines operating?"

  "Within the next two weeks." Addressing Jon, Sarah said, "Perhaps you could tell me where I might go to apply for a business license. I'd like to get started at once."

  "Applications are at the legislature building," Jon said, "but what makes you think you can compete with the Hudson's Bay store? It stocks a complete line of women's apparel."

  "I won't be competing with Hudson's Bay," Sarah replied. "I'll be selling apparel women cannot buy there or from any other store in Victoria, items such as shirtwaister dresses and bloomer costumes. Once the women see the practicality of my apparel they'll be eager to buy."

  "Bloomer costumes?" Her announcement brought Jon to the brink of outright laughter. "I doubt you'll find a woman here who'd be inclined to wear something as ridiculous as bloomers."

  Sarah bristled. "You being a man would see it that way, and I've taken that into account."

  "My being a man has nothing to do with the facts, Miss Ashley. The ladies here are traditional, conservative women who adhere to popular sentiment. I assure you, they will not condone anything as unconventional as bloomer costumes."

  "Perhaps not at first, but when they learn the advantages of wearing my costumes they'll change their minds. Dress reform is one of the most important aspects of our emancipation. Women need freedom of limb and motion if they aspire to higher levels of employment, so in addition to selling my costumes, I'll enlighten women as to what's considered healthful attire."

  "You'll first have to offer your business plan to the city council, members of which are openly opposed to women in business. You won't find them very supportive."

  Sarah eye him, cynically. "Is there an ordinance
prohibiting a single woman from setting up and operating her own business?"

  Jon shrugged. "No, but you won't be setting up anything without a business license, which must be approved by the city council and signed by me. I'd hate to find you locked away with scurrilous men, but as yet, we have no facility for women in our jail, and we do strictly enforce the law regarding business licenses."

  "Do you plan to make it difficult for me to pursue my dream?" Sarah asked.

  "I admit I'm opposed to women in most businesses," Jon replied, "but since you seem determined to do just that, you'll need to abide by the laws and I, being governor, will be the one with the final say as to whether your business is appropriate for Victoria."

  "Then, if I end up in jail, you shall have that on your conscience," Sarah said. "Make no mistake, I will sell my garments to the women of Victoria, and if you think you can stop me just because I am a woman, you'll soon find yourself with a fight on your hands."

  Jon sensed a battle brewing, one he had no intention of losing. He tipped his goblet toward her in a silent toast. "Then, shall I assume it will begin tomorrow at the legislature building?"

  Holding his gaze, Sarah replied, "Yes, Governor, you may assume that, unequivocally."

  CHAPTER 3

  "Mandi," Sarah called out, "please get my lilac bloomer costume with the braided trim from my steamer trunk, and locate the mauve hat box." Initially she'd planned to wear conventional dress to the legislature building, but after Jon's cavalier attitude at dinner the previous evening, she was more determined than ever to introduce her innovative attire to the women of Victoria as soon as possible.

  Mandi slipped the outfit from the trunk and began smoothing the folds. "Ah was wonderin' when you was goin' to start showin' off your things," she said.

  Sarah eyed the garments. Even though her bloomer costume was quite lovely, Jon would of course disapprove. The man was far too insular to do otherwise. But since she intended to promote her garments, she must get on with the business of doing it.

  Lifting a pair of lilac, Turkish-style trousers off the bed, she stepped into them, then donned a tunic of matching foulard, richly embroidered with shades of purple, lavender and amethyst. A band of purple braid trimmed the loose garment at the wrists and along a hem that reached just below her knees. Standing in front of a long mirror, she positioned on her head a matching lilac bonnet trimmed with lace and a cluster of purple forget-me-nots. "What do you think?" she asked, while viewing Mandi's reflection in the mirror.

  Mandi smiled. "Ah think you look real nice, and Ah 'spect you'll cause quite a stir." She held up an over jacket of matching lilac foulard.

  Sarah slipped her arm into one flared sleeve of the jacket. "I imagine I will at first," she said, then hoped it wouldn't be too much of a stir, but once the women of Victoria realized how practical a bloomer costume could be, she was certain they'd all be anxious to own one. She opened her lilac silk parasol and twirled it against her shoulder. "Well, wish me luck."

  Mandi eyed her with mild concern. "Ah 'spect you'll need it, this bein' your first time goin' to town dressed in your costume. Ah'll sho' be anxious to know what happens."

  "So will I." Sarah snapped her parasol closed, grabbed her gloves and reticule, and left.

  Esther met her in the hallway. Eyeing Sarah with concern, she said, "Your bloomer costume's really very lovely, and so practical, but I had no idea you planned to wear it today."

  Sarah pulled on a white kid glove. "I decided it was as good a time as any to introduce it." Catching the gleam of envy in Esther's eyes, she said, "I'd like very much to give you a pair of bloomers, if you'll accept them."

  "I'd love a pair, and thank you for the offer, but Mother would have a fit of the vapors if she saw me in them." Ester's forehead gathered with a frown. "But, if I were to wear them in the privacy of my bedroom..."

  "Then it's settled!" Sarah exclaimed, certain the women of Victoria would be as receptive to the attire as both Esther and Josephine were. Of course, the elder generation would no doubt frown, but that was always to be expected when enlightened people and reformists introduced innovative ideas to society.

  "I've ordered the coach be brought around for you," Esther said, while accompanying Sarah down the stairs. "I wish you well but it won't be easy. Jon left early and I know something's up."

  Sarah felt her temper rise. "I'm not surprised. I'm also not one to shy away from obstacles."

  "That's a good thing because I fear there will be many set in place for you. Right now, Jon and his cabinet are having some rather monumental problems with political and governmental issues, mainly the threat of unification with British Columbia."

  Sarah pursed her lips. "I hardly see how my selling bloomer costumes and shirtwaister dresses could have any bearing on unification or any other governmental issues."

  "It does seem a bit illogical," Esther admitted, "but since Jon's determined that Vancouver Island remain independent from the mainland, he feels only by maintaining a stable economy can he prevent unification, and to do that, he must have the support of his cabinet, the city council, the House of Assembly, and the merchants, most of whom are Hudson's Bay men, and they don't want a woman merchant among them."

  "I'm absolutely no threat to the Hudson's Bay Company," Sarah said, "and since my business will be smaller than most family-owned businesses, the men should have no cause for alarm."

  "Maybe not," Esther conceded, "but Jon's efforts are further aggravated by caustic editorial attacks in our newspaper, The Colonist. The editor is Jon's political enemy and he's quite scathing at times."

  Sarah couldn't imagine she'd cause such a ruckus. "My business should have no bearing on the problem between Jon and your newspaper editor. We're only talking a small shop with a limited clientele. Once things catch on the business will grow, but that's down the road a bit."

  Esther drew in a long breath. "That's all well and good, but Jon believes a single woman in business would create contention and unrest in the community, which would give the editor barbs to throw at him. In fact, Jon could be your greatest obstacle. This morning he called an early meeting with his cabinet and the mayor, so I suspect he's already initiated something."

  "At least he's true to his word," Sarah mused, in disgust. "The fight is most definitely on."

  Esther gave the coachman instructions and wished Sarah well.

  As Sarah rode, she felt a growing sense of resentment. She refused to believe she'd managed to liquidate her savings, flee from Hollis and Lester, and make her way to Victoria, only to be defeated by a pompous governor and his flock of boot licking bureaucrats before she'd barely begun. She had no idea what to expect this morning. Options ranged from being issued a business license and later facing whatever obstacles Jon and his council would concoct, or not being issued a license at all, but since Jon admitted there was no ordinance prohibiting a woman from running a business, there seemed no way the council could refuse.

  Brows gathered in concentration, it was some moments before she realized the coach had stopped. The footman helped her out, and when she saw the legislature building, she simply stood and stared. The architecture—part wood, part brick—combined a confused agglomeration of styles fancifully painted in various shades of red. The footman, following the direction of her gaze, said to her, "It's a bit of a controversy around here. It's been described as a Chinese pagoda, a Dutch toy, a Swiss cottage, and a Chinese wash house. Most folks just call it the Birdcages."

  Sarah chuckled. "Birdcages for a bunch of popinjays. That seems appropriate."

  She marched up the stairs to the main entrance. Once inside, she located the room dubbed House of Assembly and stepped up to a desk displaying a sign carved with the name, Joseph Porter, Esq., Clerk of the House. Addressing the man behind the desk, she said, "I'm here to obtain a business license."

  The man inspected her costume critically, then reaching into a long drawer, he retrieved a bundle of papers and offered them to her, and said, "Supp
ly the information required, secure the necessary signatures, and bring everything back here for the legislative council to review."

  Sarah stared at the wad of papers then looked at the man in bewilderment. "You apparently misunderstood. I'm only trying to get a business license."

  "If you wish to obtain a business license you must complete the papers," the man said, as if explaining something to a backward child.

  Sarah took the papers from the man and sat on a long wooden bench. What struck her first was that the papers had been hastily drawn. She scanned the information requested. Copious details about the location of the building and the nature of the business. An agreement to abide by oppressive restrictions and specifications for privies, including the exact hours when offal matter would be moved. A schedule for shaking rugs, one for cleaning the board walkway in front of the building and another for disposing of ammoniacal liquor, soaplees and other offensive matter. She was also required to provide character references and signatures from six local merchants, the backing of two local banks, signatures of the mayor and each member of the city council, and lastly, the signature of Governor Jonathan Cromwell.

  She stepped over to the man behind the desk and waved the papers in front of him. "There's no way a person could possibly follow all these rules," she said. "I cannot imagine every merchant in Victoria has been subjected to this in order to obtain a business license."

  The man looked at her, dispassionately. "If you wish to discuss it with a member of the legislative council, I'll schedule an appointment for you. The council is occupied with governmental matters at this time, but they might see you in, say, three weeks."

  Glancing around, Sarah noticed several men looking on in amusement. Obviously, they'd been party to this scheme. She drew in an extended breath through flared nostrils, and said, "I do believe I understand." Gathering her reticule and parasol, she left the area, the bundle of documents clutched in her hand, a scowl on her face.

  Marching down the hallway she located Jon's office and swept into the room. She was at once aware of the rugged, masculine man sitting behind the desk. With his crop of unruly hair and his broad chin with the shadow of a day-old beard, he looked more like a frontiersman than a governor. She was also aware of the penetrating eyes appraising her, but she refused to be distracted by the man. Standing before him, her eyes stinging with tears of outrage, she said, "You and your council must take me for a complete noddy!" She slapped the documents on his desk, sending papers fluttering about, then pursed her lips and waited.