A Lady of Hidden Intent

by Tracie Peterson

  “I suppose you are right,” Winifred said, looking to the world outside the carriage. “Do you have plans for Sunday? There is a lecture being given by the antislavery people.”

  “I already have arrangements,” Carter answered. “Lee and I plan to go riding.”

  “Oh, that sounds quite delightful.”

  There was something in her voice that drew Carter’s attention. She sounded so wistful that he thought perhaps Winifred had been too long neglected. “You would be welcome to join us. I know that Lee would not care.”

  “Mr. Arlington is a very . . . good . . . friend,” Winifred said, seeming to pick her words carefully.

  Carter checked his watch. “He is indeed. I cannot imagine a better friend in all the world.”

  “I wish I had a friend like that. Unfortunately, it is unseemly for a woman to share a man’s company to any degree of intimacy— unless, of course, they are courting or related. And the young ladies I grew up with are far more concerned with their social standing and the next party or gown. I find myself quite weary of their company, yet I always end up going back to their affairs simply out of desperation to have someone with whom to talk.”

  “I am sorry for that.” Carter looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “I did not realize how miserable you’d become.”

  Winifred reached out a gloved hand and patted his arm. “Do not fret over it. Mother says it’s my own doing. My shyness makes people uncomfortable. However, I would never have become so shy had my peers been less opinionated and harsh. I have no desire to spend my evenings gossiping about a friend who had, until that moment, been perfectly admired. Women, Carter dear, can be so very nonsensical.”

  Carter laughed out loud at this. “You are wise beyond your years, little sister. So may I plan on your accompanying us Sunday after church?”

  “Where will you ride? I am certain I cannot keep a saddle for as long as you and Mr. Arlington, but I would like to come.” There was an excitement in her voice that Carter had not anticipated.

  “Then we will plan on it. We’ll set out after dinner, so long as the weather is good, and keep to the park.”

  The carriage slowed and then drew to a stop. Carter glanced out to see the sign announcing Mrs. Clarkson’s.

  “It would appear we have arrived.”

  Carter helped Winifred from the carriage and followed her to the sewing house. He found himself feeling rather excited to once again meet the beautiful Miss Shay. He’d thought more about her in the last week than he’d thought of any other woman.

  Hearing Winifred talk so highly of Catherine only intrigued him more.

  A very young redheaded girl greeted them as she opened the door. “G’day to ya both.” She curtsied and stepped aside.

  “We’re here to see Miss Shay,” Winifred announced. “I am Miss Danby.”

  “I’ll be lettin’ Miss Shay know yar here.” She showed them to the same sitting room Carter had occupied on his first occasion to Mrs. Clarkson’s. He could only hope that the wanton Felicia would be occupied elsewhere.

  “Would ya be wantin’ some refreshments?”

  “No. I believe our stay will be quite short,” Winifred replied, looking to Carter to make certain her response was acceptable.

  “I am fine,” he assured.

  The girl curtsied again and went about her duties. Carter thought of the fluid and graceful movements he’d noted of Catherine Shay compared to this awkward little girl, then considered his sister’s comments about Miss Shay’s intelligence. She clearly wasn’t like the others in the house. There was an air of refinement to her manners and speech. Of course, she was English, and that alone could account for a great deal. She might well have been part of a noble family. Many had fallen on bad times, and it wasn’t, as he understood, that unusual for them to come to America to seek to better their situations. Perhaps that was the mystery behind the beautiful Catherine Shay.

  Carter smiled to himself. I have a great imagination.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  He met his sister’s gaze and his grin only broadened. “I was just thinking that with very little trouble I easily allow my imagination to run wild. I suppose it bodes well to have a creative nature, since my passion is architecture. However, I sometimes find my thoughts getting the best of me.”

  “And in what way do they get the best of you, brother?”

  Carter shrugged. “In ways that might well serve to get me into more trouble than expected.” He grinned. “But never fear.

  I have a tight rein on my thoughts. They shall not be my ruin today.”

  The door opened suddenly, and there she was. Carter forgot what he was saying and simply stared at the vision before him. Hang his imagination; this woman was far more intriguing in the flesh.

  “I have some things here that I believe . . .” Catherine began, but her words faded as she found herself face-to-face with Carter.

  He smiled broadly and gave a bow. “Good afternoon, Miss

  Shay.”

  “Sir.” The reply slowly spilled from her reluctant lips.

  Catherine found she couldn’t look away. He was so very handsome. His face had a rather rugged look, perhaps more so than she’d noticed five years ago. Of course, if she had changed, he certainly could as well. She thought he looked wiser and, ultimately, more at ease with himself. How strange that he’d never married. Of course, a man of means had no need to rush into an arrangement that he might find drained his riches rather than added to them.

  “So, my sister tells me you are quite accomplished at designing ball gowns.”

  “I told him I’d never seen anyone quite like you. Most seamstresses create gowns based solely on patterns that have already been established—or at least gowns that are available to copy,”

  Winifred said with such sincerity that Catherine momentarily forgot her fears.

  “You are very kind to say so. I enjoy what I do.”

  “I believe that helps one to do an exceptional job,” Carter offered.

  “My brother is also a designer,” Winifred said with a smile.

  “Yes, I know.” Catherine headed to the table and put down her things. “He’s an architect.”

  “How did you know?” Winifred asked in surprise.

  Catherine felt her breath catch. “Ah, well, I believe your mother must have mentioned it.” She caught Carter’s look of surprise, then watched his expression relax.

  “Of course. Mother has a way of mentioning a great many things.”

  Winifred giggled, and Catherine chose that moment to refocus the discussion. “These are the fabrics I found, as well as some of the trims I had in mind.”

  Winifred took her seat and began to review the pieces. “This is perfect. I love the shade. Oh, Catherine, I am so excited about this gown. Perhaps for the first time in my life.”

  Catherine saw the exchange of looks between brother and sister. Carter seemed very happy for his sister, and his joy at her pleasure touched Catherine deeply.

  “You’ll impress many a potential suitor in this gown, to be sure,” Carter teased.

  Winifred blushed. “I don’t care about impressing many suitors. I would be happy just to have one—one who would meet my needs.”

  Carter laughed, surprising Catherine. “And what would those needs be?”

  “He must love me, silly. I won’t marry for any other reason, despite Father’s ranting.” She looked up suddenly, as if she’d said too much.

  Catherine pretended to be busy checking something on the sketch. “I have some burgundy cording that I think will work well for the trim on the waist of the bodice.” She looked for the piece among her swatches.

  “Do you have a suitor, Catherine?”

  Catherine’s head shot up at Winifred’s question. She blinked blankly several times. “Ah . . . no. My work here . . . well . . . it keeps me very busy.”

  “I can hardly believe someone so beautiful would not have many suitors,” Winifred replie
d. “Wouldn’t you agree, Carter?”

  “I do find it very surprising. Either the men in Philadelphia are blind, or perhaps they simply do not frequent women’s dressmaker shops. I shall have to put the word out that there are lovely young ladies being overlooked.”

  Catherine knew her composure was quickly slipping away.

  When the clock chimed three, she nearly jumped a foot. “I’m sorry,” she said at Carter’s and Winifred’s startled expressions.

  “I have so many appointments and I didn’t realize the time had passed so quickly. If you approve of the materials and design, then I will get the girls to create a pattern of the bodice.” Catherine quickly gathered the swatches as she spoke.

  Just calm down, she told herself. You’ll give yourself away for sure if you don’t appear at ease. She forced herself to stand still and look at the siblings as if bored.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  Winifred got to her feet. “No, everything looks perfect. I’m glad we waited for this fabric. I very much like the silk, and the trims and laces are lovely. I will wait to hear from you.”

  Catherine could hardly draw breath until they’d stepped out of the house. She hurried to put her things away and nearly collided with Lydia.

  “I’m sorry, Catherine.”

  “No harm done. My mind was elsewhere.”

  Lydia looked at her as if considering something uncomfortable. “I . . . well . . . I’m glad you had me reset the basting in the bodice. It looks much better.”

  “We all have to learn, Lydia. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t show talent. I simply didn’t want you to settle for a job only done in part.”

  Lydia nodded. “I want to do a good job.”

  “And you do,” Felicia said as she came into the room behind Catherine. She looked at Catherine as if daring her to argue.

  “You mustn’t allow anyone to tell you otherwise.”

  “Lydia is a very talented young woman,” Catherine said, stepping aside to put her things away. “But even talented people need guidance and direction.”

  “Are you about to preach a sermon?”

  Felicia’s smug expression helped Catherine to recover from her earlier bout of nerves. “I will leave that to the theologians,” she replied. “Now, if you are both in need of work . . .” Catherine let the words trail off as she observed each young woman.

  “I have a job,” Lydia said quickly. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me.” Lydia quickly hurried from the room.

  Catherine lost no time in turning to face Felicia. “You would do well to remember your place in this house. I won’t have you undermining my authority with the girls. Nor will I have you discredit a young woman putting aside her pride to accept direction. I hope that I will not find it necessary to take this matter to Mrs. Clarkson.”

  Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “One day you’ll be sorry you’ve made an enemy of me.”

  “I have never tried to make an enemy of you, Felicia, but I do require respect for my position.” Catherine put away her scissors and closed the drawer. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  She headed out of the pattern room and went to check on the progress being made by some of the other girls. She wasn’t sure, but she thought Felicia muttered something about getting her due.

  Catherine sighed. Between having to worry about what Felicia might do and whether or not Carter Danby would remember her true identity, Catherine felt her energy drain away. Unfortunately, there were still many hours of work to complete. She whispered a prayer and knew that no matter the trials that came her way, she had to keep going for her father. Every dollar she saved meant a chance for him to be freed. No one was giving him any help. No one was worried about how tired or worried he might be—no one, except Catherine.

  CHAPTER 6

  A few days later, Mrs. Clarkson addressed everyone at breakfast. Although she often gave news at the morning meal, today was different. The sense of anticipation was even greater due to her including Selma and Dugan.

  “It is nearly October and we have a large order—the largest ever, in fact—of gowns to complete for the Christmas season, with some additional costumes requested for the New Year’s Eve parties. It will require a great deal of dedication and work on our part. I am, however, prepared to offer large bonuses to compensate for the extra work. These bonuses will extend even to the girls who are not yet making a regular salary.”

  Catherine noticed the exchange of smiles between Lydia and Beatrix, the only two who weren’t being paid. The news would no doubt be very well received by their families.

  Picking at her eggs, Catherine continued to listen, knowing that the days to come would be quite taxing. Last year she had worked eighteen hours a day, without proper meals, for over six weeks. There were even a few days when she had no more than four hours of sleep. The memory of her aching shoulders and tired eyes made her wish the season were already behind them.

  “And of course we must complete all the work orders, even if it requires getting additional help. Which, I’m happy to say, I have already arranged for. Most will help with the bulk work. They can easily hand-stitch undergarments, skirts, and the like. Selma will continue with cooking and cleaning; however, we might allow the deeper cleaning to go for the time, allowing her to help us with bastings and fittings. She is quite good at this, as those of you who were with us last year will remember.”

  “But if you’re hiring all this extra help,” Felicia said with a pout, “that will mean less opportunity for us to earn extra money.”

  “Not at all,” Mrs. Clarkson assured. “We have taken double the number of gowns as we had last year. And while we have two more girls on staff, they are not yet able to do much of the finish work. There will be plenty of chances to earn bonus money, I assure you.”

  Mrs. Clarkson looked down at a piece of paper she held. “I want also to announce that Lydia is being moved into the position of Improver. She will now work with Felicia. Felicia, I will periodically check the garments Lydia sews and approve or reject the work. My review of your work will be judged not only on the garments you sew but the ones Lydia helps with as well.”

  “So if she does a poor job, I will be held responsible? That hardly seems fair.”

  Catherine held her tongue, despite wanting very much to give her a piece of her mind. Mrs. Clarkson would handle the matter.

  “Yes, that’s exactly how it will be. A supervisor is no better than the subordinates she oversees. If she cannot get the proper job out of her worker, it is a reflection on her abilities to lead, instruct, and train. Lydia’s work will be a reflection of your teaching.”

  “I’ll do a good job, I promise,” Lydia interjected.

  Felicia looked at her rather sourly for a moment, then smiled.

  “I know you’ll do exactly as I say.”

  Catherine felt sorry for Lydia. The tone of Felicia’s voice made it clear that she would treat the girl like a slave. Picking up her nearly empty cup of tea, Catherine drank the last of it as Mrs. Clarkson continued.

  “Dolley, you will work as a team with Catherine and Beatrix.”

  Orphaned at fourteen, Dolley had worked in Mrs. Clarkson’s house ever since. She had proven herself quite industrious and, despite her rather plump figure, was probably the most energetic of all the workers. Pushing back strands of dull blond hair, Dolley threw Catherine a smile. They worked well together, and as an Assistant with over a year’s experience, Catherine knew Dolley could sew even the most intricate garment.

  “Martha will work with me,” Mrs. Clarkson continued. “As will Selma when time permits. Our projects are divided into these three groups. I will post the assignment of customers so that there are no questions over what group is responsible for each project. Does everyone understand?”

  “I only have myself and Lydia,” Felicia said, shaking her head.

  “That hardly seems fair. How can I hope to get as many pieces of work completed?”

  Mrs. Clarkson
nodded. “Catherine will oversee the designs and create new pieces as needed. So you see, her team will mostly rely upon Dolley and Beatrix to accomplish the work. Even so, I have already accounted for your needs. Extra help will be available to you to sew some of the bulk work, as mentioned. And because Lydia is still quite new in her training, I have assigned you gowns where the patterns have already been created. You won’t need to worry about remaking the patterns or designing any part of the gown.”

  Felicia knew better than to comment further. She was getting the easier end of the work load and knew it very well. She sat back and folded her arms against her chest but said nothing more.

  “Now, does everyone understand their position and station here?” The girls all nodded and Mrs. Clarkson smiled. “Good.

  Catherine, do you have anything else to add?”

  Catherine considered the situation for a moment. “Everyone must feel free to come to me if you have any questions on the designs. I tried to work intimately with each customer, paying close attention to her form. Some of the details we’ve included on the pattern might not make sense, but rather than overlook them or change them, I would ask that you consult with me first.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Clarkson said, nodding quite soberly. “This is critical. Catherine’s designs are the reason the women have flocked to us in great number. You must put aside any petty jealousy or conflict with this thought and do a job worthy of the customer’s faith. They enjoy Catherine’s creativity, but Catherine herself knows that the entire sewing house is needed in order to bring a design to life. We are a team, and we need each person to do what they do best. There is no room for squabbles or animosity, and should such attitudes surface, they will be dealt with swiftly. If they are unable to be resolved, it might well result in my having to dismiss you. Understood?”

  The girls nodded in unison, except for Felicia. She eyed Catherine with a look that suggested she thought otherwise, but then quickly looked to Mrs. Clarkson and replied, “I understand completely.”

  Catherine was certain the anger Felicia held for her would result in no good. The girl had been jealous of Catherine for as long as they had worked here. They had come to Mrs. Clarkson’s at nearly the same time, but Catherine’s skills had already been in place. Not only that, but her artistic abilities and intimate knowledge of gowns that would please the wealthy did nothing to endear her to Felicia—yet everything to promote Catherine’s position with Mrs. Clarkson. Felicia had caused Catherine grief ever since.