Wild Catriona

by Oliver, Marina

  'She was careless. I showed her how to place the pins, but she didn't even look for the indentations. And when I pointed this out, and asked her to do it again, she still didn't care.'

  'She was nervous, you could tell that if you'd been a little more sympathetic.'

  'She was more interested in trying to show you how small her waist was!'

  Rory laughed, and came to stand in front of her. He was standing before one of the windows, and she could not see his expression, which was in shadow.

  'Oh, come, now. Surely you don't accuse me of favouring pretty young girls just because they are pretty?'

  She glanced at him curiously. Did he really not see this? 'Yes, I do,' she said bluntly.

  His jaw dropped, and he made several attempts to speak before the words came out. They sounded odd, strangled, and he turned and marched to the far end of the room.

  'I'm perfectly fair!'

  Catriona couldn't suppress a grin.

  'Then why do you want to turn down the man we saw first today, Gordon MacLeish?'

  'Who? Oh, you mean that brawny fellow from Paisley? I noticed the way the girls we were waiting to see were looking at him. He'd be too distracting an influence.'

  'Just because he's big and handsome,' Catriona murmured. 'Look, we're never going to find people this way. Let's choose. Either we have Gordon McLeish, who's eager to learn, and a set of older women who won't be affected by him, or we have only young pretty girls, and no men at all for them to be distracted by.'

  Rory snorted, and walked back towards her, leaning over her as she sat by one of the tables. 'Don't be ridiculous! That has naught to do with it. We need the best available.'

  'And I know who they are! Rory Napier, if I am to run this workshop successfully for you I have to have confidence in the people we employ.'

  'We? I have to remind you that it's my business, and my money,' he snapped.

  'And my skills,' she shot back at him. 'You promised I could have the final say in who was employed.'

  'A say, not complete control.'

  Catriona rose to her feet, turned away and began to pack her carving tools, and the blocks she had made in the past few days, while they had been equipping the workshop, into a large canvas bag.

  'What are you doing?' Rory demanded.

  'It isn't going to work, is it? You'd best find another manager. I'm sure that will be possible. If you still wish to buy my designs, we can negotiate a price, but I will do them only. I will not attempt to work with people I cannot trust, people who will not follow my instructions, and who, by not doing so, will damage the business. Your business,' she added pointedly.

  He strode across and seized her arms, shaking her slightly. 'Cat, you can't walk out after only a few days!' He looked appalled, but she resisted the desire to reassure him. If she did, her ideas would never flourish as she wished. 'You can't let me down,' he went on, his voice shaking slightly. 'Don't leave me to oversee all this, after you persuaded me to set it up! I don't know anything about it!'

  He looked appalled, but she could not retreat from her position. 'No, you don't. But I do, and I can.' She swallowed hard and tried to wriggle away from his grasp, but he held her firmly and pulled her even closer so that she could smell the clean soap he used, and see the darker flecks in his eyes.

  'Cat, we need to work together,' he said softly. 'Don't give it up now.'

  'I don't want to, but don't you see, you leave me no other option. I have more experience than you do in this, as you've just admitted. I know what will be possible, and I can judge whether the people we test are able to do the sort of job I want. I'm not willing to work here and have it second best.'

  'Please. Don't leave me.'

  'But we can't work together.'

  He shook his head. 'We can agree, I'm sure. You can choose the people, but I need to be able to offer my opinion. I won't try to force you to employ anyone you don't feel is suitable. Is that enough for you, my wildcat?'

  Catriona wavered. Whenever he used that tone, called her his wildcat, she remembered their first meeting up on the hills, his temporary helplessness, and it became impossibly difficult to tear herself away.

  'Do you mean it?'

  'Yes. I promise. Well, am I forgiven? Will you stay with me? I really do depend on you.'

  She was still slightly suspicious, but decided she had to trust him. It would be heartbreaking to have to try and find another position, just so that she could earn the money to go to Holland. And if she was really honest with herself, she admitted that she would much prefer to stay in Scotland, in Glasgow with Rory. She'd rather be earning her keep doing something she loved and knew she was good at, than throw herself on the charity of her Dutch family.

  'Very well, I'll try again,' she said at last, unwilling to give way completely.

  Rory smiled, and hugged her. 'I promise, no more interference,' he said, and dropped a light kiss on the end of her nose. 'Now, tell me which of the people we've seen so far do you want to hire?'

  *****

  Rory laid aside the newly printed fabric.

  'This is excellent,' he said. It was even better than he'd hoped, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief. His trust in his heather girl had been justified, and his venture was going to succeed.

  'You didn't really believe I could do it, did you?' Catriona asked, laughing at him.

  'Of course I did,' he protested. 'Do you mean to try the overprinting tomorrow?'

  'The blue and yellow? I was going to try some tonight, now they've all gone home, to see whether it really does give a better green than the plants I've used before.'

  'Tonight? But it's late already.'

  'All the better. I have peace to try it out. Tomorrow we have a lot to do.'

  'I wish I could stay and see it,' Rory said.

  'You can. I don't include you when I say I want peace,' Catriona said with a chuckle.

  'It's Susannah's ball, and I promised to be there. I have to go home and change.'

  He really did not want to go. During the past week he had been able to push all thoughts of Susannah, Silas, and his uncle out of his thoughts, as he watched the new workroom come to life. Catriona had known exactly what she wanted, and how to achieve it. The two older women and the young man, Gordon, had rapidly learned the techniques, and within hours they were producing printing of far superior quality to any he'd managed previously. And despite his fights with Catriona he could not now imagine the workshop without her. Her cheerful, sparkling presence seemed to inspire them all.

  Catriona's designs, too, were delicate, and Rory knew that even the simplest, one-colour patterns, would be snapped up by his customers. Now she had begun overprinting in two colours, and was ready to experiment with more, including the mixture which was going to produce a much better, clearer green than they had been able to get previously.

  'You mustn't be late,' Catriona said, but she didn't look up. She was already absorbed in her preparations, and Rory left with no more ado. He knew by now that when she was working she had room for no other thoughts.

  *****

  He was amongst the last to arrive at the ball, and Silas had sent Susannah away from where they had been greeting guests. He frowned as Rory trod up the wide staircase.

  'I thought after all you were going to let my Susannah down,' he said, unsmiling.

  'I promised to come, and I keep my promises, as you should know. Is my uncle here? I haven't seen him for a few days, and I wondered if he'd already gone back to Braemar.'

  'He's here. Waiting to see what sort of a hand you'll be making of this crazy new scheme.'

  'Come and see the designs, next week, perhaps, when we have a bigger selection,' Rory said lightly. He was determined not to rise to Silas's jibes.

  'Go and find the chit, she'll be disappointed if you don't dance with her, and she's saved two for you.'

  Rory nodded, and went through to the ballroom. A set was forming for a country dance, and Susannah was laughing up at her partne
r. She wore a pearl necklace which must have cost a small fortune, judging by the size of the pearls. She had on a gown of white damask over a quilted pink petticoat. It was liberally embroidered with pale pink roses, and scattered with seed pearls. Rory detected the hand of a clever seamstress, and one who knew the latest fashions, for the skirt, unlike the much wider one she'd worn at the Assembly, was narrower than those of most other women.

  'Doesn't dear Susannah look delightful?' a soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

  It was Susannah's Aunt Elizabeth.

  'Indeed she does. It's a beautiful gown.'

  'A London dressmaker, who has just set up in Glasgow. Farthingales are quite out in London and Paris, she says. I can see why. It allows for much more graceful, natural movements, and dear Susannah is such a graceful girl.'

  She moved away, and Rory, seeing one of his friends across the room, edged his way past the dancers. He was not permitted to get far, however, as first one anxious Mama, and then another, hailed him and kept him talking about trivialities until out of desperation he was forced to ask their plain daughters for a dance, and fill in spaces in their rather empty programmes.

  By the time he eventually reached his friend the country dance was coming to an end, and Susannah was heading in his direction, clinging to her partner's arm and gazing up adoringly into his eyes, laughing at something he said.

  They were level with Rory before Susannah saw him, and when she did she stopped, forcing her partner to halt too.

  'Rory! I thought you had forgotten me again! Why have you been so busy lately?'

  The other man melted away, and Susannah sat on one of the small gilt chairs which had been placed round the room, patting the one beside her.

  Rory sat down. 'I'm starting a new venture. Hasn't your father told you?' he asked.

  Susannah pouted slightly. 'He said something, but I didn't understand. I thought the weavers were doing this printing you are so determined upon. Why do you need to spend so much money setting up a separate workshop?'

  'It will be worth it, in the end there will be fewer mistakes, less linen spoilt.'

  'So it will be profitable? I think my father and your uncle were worried you were wasting your money. Will it make the patterned fabric cheaper?'

  'Yes. In fact, we could produce something similar to the pattern on your gown. It is a beautiful one,' he added.

  'It was very expensive!'

  'I'm sure it was, with all that embroidery. No, I meant we could produce something very much simpler, just the roses, and perhaps something that looks like pearls. It would not be anything near as expensive, of course.'

  She looked interested. 'Rory, that sounds delightful. When can I come and see how it's done?'

  Rory hesitated. Did he want Susannah and Catriona to meet? He had no idea how Susannah would react to the news that he was employing as his manager a girl much the same age as she was. It had been rather a miracle, he felt, that neither Matthew nor Silas had so far been to inspect his new workshop. They'd have been contemptuous, and would not have hidden their opinions from Catriona. His lips twitched as he imagined her forthright responses to their criticisms, but that was a pleasure he'd be wiser to forgo. He wanted to be able to show them how successful she and the workshop were when they came.

  'Next week, perhaps,' he suggested at last. They would have to know some time, and there was no reason he need keep it a secret.

  'Good. Now, let's forget business. I kept a couple of dances free for you.'

  *****

  Chapter 13

  Catriona, startled, looked up from the tub of dye she was inspecting as the door of the workshop was flung open. A large, red-faced man stood there, staring round him with small, eager eyes that seemed to miss nothing. She moved towards him as he took a step into the room, swinging his cloak off his shoulders.

  'Sir! Be careful you don't drag the fabric off the table!' she exclaimed in alarm.

  He turned slowly and glared at her. 'Who the devil are you to give me orders, wench?'

  'I think I need to ask you your business here,' Catriona replied, with difficulty keeping her temper.

  He ignored her and turned to Gordon, who was unrolling another length of linen onto another table.

  'You! Are you in charge here? If you are, I'd appreciate it if you kept these women in their place!'

  Gordon glanced at Catriona, and shrugged slightly. 'I'm not the manager, sir,' he said quietly. 'Mistress Duncan is in charge.'

  'Who? A female? In charge of such an operation as this? What nonsense!'

  Catriona had managed to fight down her fury. He might be an important customer, or one of Rory's friends, and she could not afford to antagonise him if he were. She could not entirely keep the curtness out of her voice, though.

  'I am Catriona Duncan, and I am manager here. Now please have the courtesy to inform me what your business is.'

  'I'm Silas MacNab, Mistress Duncan,' he said with elaborate patience. 'I am keeping an eye on his business for Mr Ogilvie, who is a good friend of mine.'

  'This business has nothing to do with Mr Ogilvie. Mr Napier runs it separately.'

  He gave her a contemptuous stare. 'I expected Mr Napier to be here. Where is he?'

  'He is due soon. Perhaps you would care to wait for him in my office?' she suggested, emphasising the 'my'.

  Without waiting to see if he followed, she led the way across the workshop to where a small room led off one corner. She threw open the door and turned to wave him in. For a moment their gazes locked, then he shrugged and strode across, thrust past her without apology, and flung himself down in the chair behind the desk.

  He glanced round, and an expression of frustration crossed his face. Catriona wondered why, and then, recalling his name and the fact she'd heard Rory say he wanted to invest, and probably control, the business, she understood. Had he expected to find a ledger, perhaps, lying there, so that he could discover details of their financial situation? She grinned inwardly. She was always too busy to struggle with such matters during the day, and usually Rory came in the evening. He was teaching her how to deal with them.

  To her relief she heard Rory's voice, and turned round. He was ushering a very pretty girl into the workshop.

  'Mr Napier, Mr MacNab has come to visit,' she said. 'He's here in my office.'

  Rory frowned. 'Yes, Susannah told me he would probably be here. Oh, Susannah, this is my manager, Mistress Duncan. Cat, this is Mr MacNab's daughter. She's interested in the printing process. I wonder if you'd explain it to her while I talk to her father?'

  Catriona nodded, and without a further word Rory went into the office and shut the door.

  Susannah smiled sympathetically at her.

  'Is my father angry?' she asked, keeping her voice low so that the others could not hear. 'I'm afraid he is inclined to be irritable. I think he suffers from indigestion, but he won't admit it.'

  He might be cured if he ate and drank less, by the look of him, Catriona thought, and inspected Susannah carefully. She was recalling more of the conversation she had heard between Rory and his uncle. One phrase in particular came back to her, 'If only you'd offer for the MacNab wench.' Was this the girl Matthew Ogilvie had meant? She couldn't recall what Rory had replied. Did he mean to marry her?

  Hastily Catriona pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She'd examine it later, with all its implications.

  'You're interested in block printing?' she asked carefully.

  'Yes. I saw what Rory's weavers were doing, and I really didn't think it would work, so I'm fascinated to see how you have contrived to improve it.'

  Catriona picked up one of the blocks, turned it up, and showed it to Susannah.

  'You see how the pattern is carved, leaving it in relief? If I put the dye on it and press it down really firmly on the fabric, it leaves an impression.'

  'Yes, I think I see.'

  Catriona demonstrated on the fabric Gordon had rolled out. 'We then repeat the pattern all over.'


  'It's not complete,' Susannah remarked. 'Look, here there are leaves missing from this flower, surely?'

  'Yes. When it's perfectly dry we can overprint with another colour. On this table over here we're doing that.'

  'How clever! Rory told me he could produce a cheap imitation of my balldress. Is this how the Indian cottons were done?'

  'It's a very old technique, some think it started in Persia or Egypt, hundreds of years ago, but it's been done mainly in India, until Europeans began to copy the idea. No one's quite sure when that was, it could have been in Roman times, but some of the old books, the manuscript ones, were decorated this way. A great deal of fabric printing has been done in Europe for a hundred years or more.'

  'You know a lot about it,' Susannah said admiringly.

  'My father's mother was Dutch, and her family have a printing business in Amsterdam.'

  'So that's where you learnt! I was surprised to find Rory had employed a girl to manage for him, but that must be why. I'm sure you know more than any Scotsman!'

  Catriona laughed and shook her head. 'I doubt it. Printed fabrics are fashionable, and we're not the first in Scotland to do them.'

  At that moment Rory and Mr MacNab emerged from the office, and Catriona saw with some amusement that the latter was smiling complacently. What was happening?

  'Well, Susannah, my love, it's time we were going. Have you seen all you want to?' he asked his daughter, smiling fondly at her.

  'Yes, thank you, Papa. It's so interesting. I may come back another day and ask Mistress Duncan to show me more. If I may, that is?' she said, swinging round to look at Catriona. 'Will you permit it? I won't be getting in your way, will I?'

  'Of course you won't, my dear,' Mr MacNab took it upon himself to reply. 'Now, don't forget, Rory, supper with us tomorrow night. I shall be pleased to give a good report to your uncle, and then perhaps he will be able to return home with a quiet mind. But take care you don't neglect his business, now.'

  *****

  The next few days seemed busier than ever, and they had a constant stream of visitors to the workshop. It seemed to Catriona that there was always someone extra there. Many of them were customers, since Rory maintained they would be more willing to try the new designs if they saw how they were printed.