Shadows played on the girl’s face as the light of day faded and gave way to twilight. They were fortunate to have gas lighting in the first floor of the house, but it was often not enough to work by, and Catherine felt the need to light an additional lamp while Lydia considered her words.
“You show talent, Lydia. Do not be discouraged by correction; rather, let it be the guide to refining your skills.”
“But Felicia said—”
“Lydia, Felicia is not in charge here. Perhaps we should call upon Mrs. Clarkson to resolve this matter. If you will not take direction and correction from me, I will have no other choice.
Is that what you wish?”
Lydia hung her head. “No, ma’am.”
“Very well. Take this bodice back and tear out the basting. Refit the seams and rework the piece until there are no gaps. Then bring it back to me to check. I’ll expect to see it yet tonight.”
Getting up in a huff, Lydia snatched up the piece and stormed out of the room. Even Beatrix was stunned by her behavior.
“Me mum would have her hand across me backside for such manners,” Beatrix couldn’t help but declare.
Catherine wanted no part of encouraging the girls to be set against each other. She looked at the feisty redhead and pointed to the pattern. “Focus on your own work, Beatrix. No one likes to receive correction. Pride is a fierce enemy, and we must remember that fact if no other.”
“Aye, but she had no right to be so angry,” Beatrix said as she turned back to her work. “We are here to learn.”
“That is true enough, but Lydia also misses her family. She is homesick and it is sometimes hard for her here. She comes from a large family like yours, but her heritage is German. They were all very close but very much in need of Lydia’s learning a trade, and so they sent her to Mrs. Clarkson. She apprenticed here for a year, like you’re doing, before she came here to live.”
“I can hardly wait to move here. Our house is very small and there is no quiet once the sun comes up,” Beatrix said as she put down the pencil. “There’s never enough food for everyone. If I didn’t eat lunch here, I might not be gettin’ anything at all,” she said with a laugh, but Catherine knew the truth of it in her voice.
“That reminds me. I’m going to be increasing your training and need you here first thing in the morning,” Catherine said, knowing that Mrs. Clarkson wouldn’t mind. “I would like you to join us for breakfast at five-thirty every day but Sunday. That way if there should be any important discussions prior to the workday, you will already be there to hear it. Will that work for you?”
Beatrix’s face lit up. “I’m thinkin’ it will suit me just fine.”
“Well, it’s the least we can do. I realize you get no pay at this point in your training, but you work very hard and need nourishment. Eventually, we’ll have you stay into the evening hours and then you will also join us for supper.”
“I’ll be lookin’ forward to that.” She shook her head, and her red braids danced around her shoulders. “I am countin’ me blessin’s.”
The idea of living in a small tenement with nine people was beyond Catherine’s comprehension. Even the sewing house, with its four floors, offered the eight people who lived there on a regular basis far more room than the three-room home Beatrix described.
Catherine wondered if they might bring Beatrix into the house sooner. There was room for her to stay with Dolley and Martha. A thought began to stir in her mind. She would speak to Mrs. Clarkson about it later that night. Even if she needed to offer Beatrix space in her private room, it would be worth the effort.
“Well, it looks as though your day is done,” Catherine said, examining the pattern enlargements Beatrix had drawn. “These are quite perfect.” She looked up and found Beatrix beaming her a smile, and though Catherine had long ago lost the ability to claim such simple joy, she offered the girl a brief smile in return. “I will see you here at five-thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Beatrix said and curtsied. “I’ll be lookin’ forward to it.”
Catherine awoke early the next morning and immediately sought out Mrs. Clarkson. The woman was struggling with her hair and was happy to admit Catherine when she offered to help.
“I wondered if we might talk about one of the girls,” Catherine said as she combed the woman’s brown curls into order.
“But of course. Is there a problem?”
“No. Not exactly,” Catherine said. She wound the thick mass into a bun, as was Mrs. Clarkson’s manner. “I learned yesterday that Beatrix’s only meal of the day was the luncheon she shared with us here.”
“Oh dear. That will never do.”
“I thought not as well. I asked her to start joining us for breakfast and to put in more hours. She’s very talented. More so than any young woman we’ve yet employed.”
“I doubt that she’s more talented than you, my dear.”
Catherine felt her cheeks grow hot as she secured Mrs.
Clarkson’s hair. “I would not venture to say, ma’am. However, I would like to suggest something in Beatrix’s regard.”
Catherine stepped back as Mrs. Clarkson secured a mobcap over her head. Although fewer women favored such adornment, Mrs. Clarkson preferred it over other alternatives. “What is your proposal?” her employer questioned. “
I would like to suggest Beatrix move into the house. She hasn’t the same disdain or fears that Lydia has. In fact, she actually counts the days until she can come here to live. Her family, as you know, shares a three-room apartment. There are nine of them and all of the children share one room. We have plenty of room. There is still the empty bed in Martha and Dolley’s room.”
“I think the idea of her living here is perfectly acceptable.
I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I suppose given Lydia’s unhappiness here, I was just as glad to have Beatrix remain at home. However, if she would not mind living here, then it would benefit us all. We will announce it this morning at breakfast. How delightful. I’m sure she will be very happy.”
“I’m quite sure she will be as well,” Catherine replied. She started to leave, but Mrs. Clarkson stopped her.
“I must say, Mrs. Danby seemed quite pleased with your designs. She has offered to pay a great sum for the gowns.”
“She also hopes that you will not allow any other gown to be made from the same fabric,” Catherine said, remembering the woman’s request.
“For that price, I am certain we can oblige. I did want to make certain you weren’t feeling overwhelmed with the work. Have you taken on too many designs?”
Catherine considered the matter for a moment. “No, though I believe we will have more than enough work for everyone. We might want to consider hiring outside workers to do some of the base work and free up the ladies here to do the detail and trimming.”
“I am sure you are right about needing additional help. With the growing number of gowns we must create by early December, it would behoove me to take this matter quite seriously.” The clock on her mantel chimed half past five. “Oh dear, we are late.”late.”
They made their way down the stairs and took their places at the already full table. Beatrix sat between Lydia and Martha and chatted amiably with each girl as they waited for Mrs. Clarkson to bless the food.
Catherine sat down between Felicia and Martha, the aroma of cinnamon apples causing her to realize her hunger. A quick prayer of thanks was offered and then Selma came in with a large bowl of gravy, while Dugan followed with an equally large platter of biscuits.
“Ladies, I have an announcement to make,” Mrs. Clarkson declared as the girls began reaching for the items already on the table. “I have decided to ask our Beatrix to join us here at the sewing house.” Beatrix looked up at the woman in stunned silence. Mrs. Clarkson continued. “I know it is not often that we bring in someone so young or with so little training; however, Beatrix is proving herself quite capable, and Catherine assures me she will continue to benefit
us all. With the Christmas orders already pouring in, we will need every pair of hands working day and night. Do you think your parents will approve this, Beatrix?”
Everyone turned in unison to look at the redhead. She slowly smiled and nodded. “I’m thinkin’ me mum will be quite happy with the news.”
“Wonderful. I will call upon her later today and you will accompany me. If she is agreeable, we will bring your things back with us. You may, of course, visit your family on Sundays.”
Catherine knew a sense of peace about the entire matter.
Beatrix would be much better off here. She would get decent meals and a bed to herself. And while the work was long and tedious, she had a flair for it and would no doubt thrive.
Thoughts of Carter Danby came back to haunt Catherine as she picked at her breakfast. She was determined to never see him again. There was always the possibility that he would accompany his mother or sister to Clarkson’s, but if that happened Catherine would simply have to find a way to make herself scarce.
She could not risk his learning her true identity.
If he remembers who I am, it will ruin everything. My father’s imprisonment will become public knowledge, and the scandal may force us to move. If that happens, I will end up using all of the money intended for Father.
She sighed and glanced up to find Felicia watching her oddly.
“Are you quite well, Catherine?” Her words dripped sweetness, but there was no sincerity of concern.
“Quite,” Catherine replied, although she knew nothing could be further from the truth.
CHAPTER 5
Carter looked at the older man as he studied the designs for his new palatial home. Charles Montgomery was highly esteemed in Philadelphia’s financial circles but less respected by the area architects. As Carter had heard it, Montgomery had browbeat or badgered most every other prominent architect until no one wanted to work with him, no matter the benefit to their career or purse. Still, Carter felt quite honored to have his designs accepted. Montgomery was at least a man who knew his own mind, and that helped considerably in deciding what worked and what didn’t. Carter would much prefer making changes now instead of later, when the building was being erected.
“I must admit, Danby, I do like what you’ve done here by adding the cupola. It’s almost as if you’ve combined the Greek with the Italianate designs. I like it very much.”
Carter looked at the plan and then met Mr. Montgomery’s satisfied gaze. “I believe it will blend quite easily into the design.
By putting the rounded turret to cap the cupola, it brings the focus back to the Greek Revival style. Also, we can put windows all around, and that will in turn bring light down into the darkest center of the house.”
“Yes. It’s a fine idea. I believe Mrs. Montgomery will be quite pleased.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Carter said, returning his attention to the design. “Are there any other changes you’d like to see made?”
“The pillars on the front porch. What style did you call that?”
“It’s Doric. It is a very simple and unadorned style. However, if you prefer something with additional decoration, there is the Ionic style.” Carter took up a separate piece of paper and sketched out a pillar with a scrolled design at the top. “These are volutes.”
“Hmmm, well, I don’t know. Mrs. Montgomery wanted something more ornate.”
“Then perhaps the Corinthian style is in order. It’s not as often utilized due to the expense of creating the artwork.” Carter attempted to sketch out the design and held it up. “These are called acanthus leaves. Note that the fluted pillar narrows slightly at the top, is banded, and then the ornamentation flares the pillar out again, giving it a crown effect.”
“Yes. Yes. This is more to her liking, I am sure. Can this design be repeated?”
“It’s costly, but the workmen can add similar detail to the window crowns and elsewhere.”
“Good. Then let us proceed with that design. I am quite certain my wife will be pleased.”
Carter wrote several notes on the side of the design. “And have you decided about the kitchens?”
“Yes. Mrs. Montgomery said to place the summer kitchen as a detached room connected by the walkway, as you suggested.
She has never cared for the summer kitchen to be attached to the house even in part. It defeats the purpose of keeping the heat from the living quarters. Not that we are here for long in summer.
I cannot abide summer in Philadelphia. Although I am told this new country acreage may well prove cooler and less difficult.”
“Perhaps that will be true,” Carter said, adding yet another note on the paper. “Very well, unless you can think of anything else, I believe I have all the details needed.”
“And you can arrange for the workmen? I would, of course, wish to interview them and discuss their prices.”
“Of course.” Carter straightened and followed Mr. Montgomery, who was already moving toward the door. “I will arrange a meeting. Would you prefer that we come to your home, or should I arrange to hold it here?”
“My house will be acceptable. See if you cannot arrange something prior to the twentieth, however.”
“Today is the seventeenth. I see no reason why I cannot get at least a few of the men together in short order. Why don’t we say the nineteenth at your house, two o’clock?”
“Very good. I shall look forward to it.”
Carter showed Mr. Montgomery to the foyer and waited until the butler arrived with the man’s hat, gloves, and coat. Once Montgomery was on his way, Carter headed back to his office. Winifred waited for him, small and delicate against the dark wood of the large desk and bookcases. In fact, the darker greens and browns Carter had chosen for the office appeared only to make Winifred seem even smaller.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt. Are you terribly busy?” she asked.
Carter came to her and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I always have time for you. Sit and tell me why you’ve come.”
“I need to ask a favor,” she said, taking a seat as instructed. “I need to go to the dressmaker’s and pick materials for my gown.
Mama has already chosen hers, but Miss Shay has some additional fabrics coming in that I wish to see. Surprisingly enough, Mama agreed to let me choose for myself.”
“That is amazing,” Carter said with a grin. “She must be overly concerned with planning for the ball itself.”
Winifred smiled and her dark eyes seemed to twinkle. “I thought perhaps that might be the case. Either way, I didn’t wish to forgo the opportunity.”
Carter picked up the plans for the Montgomery house and rolled them. “I find myself quite free this afternoon and would be happy to escort you to Mrs. Clarkson’s. I shall have Joseph bring the carriage around. How soon would you like to go?”
“I can be ready immediately. I have only to go retrieve my things,” Winifred said, getting to her feet. “I shan’t be but a moment.”
Carter secured the plans in a tall bookcase with glass-paneled doors. He liked his office in order, but even more so, he liked having his affairs away from the prying eyes of his father and brother. More than once he’d found his brother, Robin, snooping about. Locking the doors to the case, Carter couldn’t help but be reminded that this was yet another reason he should consider moving to a house of his own. Perhaps with another job or two—maybe a large government project—he would feel secure enough to do just that. Of course, there was always the possibility of partnering with someone. His old mentor, Hollis Fulbright, came to mind. The flamboyant man had shown great appreciation and affection for Carter during the days he apprenticed with him. Carter could easily see himself working with someone like Hollis Fulbright.
Carter and the carriage were ready and waiting when Winifred reappeared. She had positioned a green bonnet on her head and allowed Wilson, the butler, to help her into a trim little black coat. She seemed so happy. Carter wished he could find a good husband for her. If h
is father pushed forward with his own plans, Winifred would no doubt be married off to a wealthy man twice her age, never to know true love.
Once they were in the carriage, Carter couldn’t help but comment on Winifred’s spirits. “You seem quite content today. I don’t believe I’ve seen you smile this much in ages.”
“I am happy. I truly like visiting with Miss Shay. She cares about what I have to say and offers good suggestions when I ask for advice.”
“And what kind of advice do you seek?” Carter asked in a teasing voice.
Winifred smoothed out the material of her green skirts and folded her black-gloved hands in her lap. “I ask her about clothing mostly. She knows a great deal about fashion. I like hearing about England, too. While we waited for Mama the other day, Catherine told me about London. I think I would very much like to see it. I think you would enjoy talking with her too. She is very well-read on other topics and seems quite accomplished.”
“Indeed? That is rather an oddity for a seamstress, is it not?”
Winifred shrugged. “She does not have much free time. She told me they work some fifteen to twenty hours a day during the social seasons. They even work on Saturday.” She shook her head. “I cannot imagine having to work for my keep.”
“Nor shall you ever have to worry about it,” Carter replied.
“Not so long as I have breath.”
“I wish it could be so for every young woman. It seems quite unfair that some women may merely run a house and direct servants, while others must slave for their very existence.”
Carter was rather surprised by his sister’s comments. He had never heard her talk quite like this. “There are a great many unfair situations in this world,” he admitted. “I suppose we must change what we can and help those less fortunate to endure as best they are able.”
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