The Girl with the Red Ribbon

by Linda Finlay

  When she had quickly climbed the stairs and entered her bedroom, she found Daisy bent beside the fireplace riddling the ashes. Her eyes widened in amazement when she saw Rowan.

  ‘Have yous been outside like that, miss?’ she asked, staring at Rowan’s feet. Looking down, Rowan saw they were covered with blades of grass.

  ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t resist, Daisy. After being cooped up indoors at the …’ she stumbled to a halt.

  ‘Lunatic asylum,’ the maid finished for her. Rowan stared at her in surprise. ‘I recognized the dress when yous arrived, miss. I had a similar brown one when I was at the orphanage. Now I’ve got a smart uniform,’ she said, getting to her feet and smoothing down her white apron. ‘I’ve laid out a dress for yous but I’ve a feeling it’s going to be too big, what with yous being the same size as me,’ she said, her eyes narrowing as she assessed Rowan.

  Looking at the yellow day dress that was carefully set over the back of the chair, Rowan could see that it was much too long. Still, she was grateful Mrs Acland had thought to provide something for her to wear. Her skin was still chafed from the rough materials of the asylum uniform, and she didn’t want to put it on ever again.

  ‘Ma’am said to tell you she’ll see yous downstairs in the breakfast room. Do yous need any help, miss, only I’m a bit behind this morning and Cook will have me guts for garters if I don’t hurry up?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘No, I can manage, thank you, Daisy. Look, why don’t you let me finish that before I have a wash?’ she asked, pointing to the grate. To her dismay, the girl glowered at her.

  ‘This is my job. I might be slow but I’m learning, so don’t think yous going to steal it,’ she said, resuming her task with vigour.

  ‘It’s all right, Daisy, I was only trying to help, and you can rest assured I have no intention of taking your job. Besides, I’m only here for a few days.’

  Immediately the maid relaxed and Rowan chided herself for her insensitivity. If the girl had only just come from the orphanage it was understandable she was feeling insecure about her position.

  Going over to the washstand, she saw fresh water had been drawn for her. She busied herself with her ablutions and by the time she’d finished Daisy had disappeared. Carefully pulling the crisp cotton dress over her shoulders, she shook out the folds of material, marvelling at the little white sprigs of flowers embroidered on the skirt. As she’d feared, it was much too long, the sleeves covering her fingertips, the hem trailing on the rug beneath her. She rolled up the sleeves as neatly as she could, then snatched the tie from the night wrap and wound it around her waist, pulling up the skirt until she could see her feet.

  Following the delicious aroma of cooked bacon, she made her way to the breakfast room, where Mrs Acland sat sipping tea from a delicate china cup.

  ‘Good morning, Rowan,’ she said, replacing it in her saucer and smiling graciously. ‘I trust you slept well?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Acland, that was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages,’ Rowan answered with feeling. ‘Thank you for loaning me this dress.’

  Mrs Acland looked her up and down, then shook her head. ‘I can see it’s much too long. I hadn’t realized how petite you are, Rowan. We shall have to do something about it after you have eaten.’ Then she looked down at Rowan’s bare feet and frowned. ‘I did ask Daisy to lay out stockings and slippers for you. The silly girl must have forgotten. I’ll have words with her when we have finished our meal.’

  ‘Oh, no, please, Mrs Acland. It wasn’t Daisy’s fault. I prefer to go barefoot,’ Rowan replied truthfully.

  ‘That’s as may be, but did she put stockings and slippers out?’ Mrs Acland persisted.

  ‘I expect I was in a hurry and didn’t notice them,’ Rowan answered, not wishing to get the little maid into trouble.

  ‘Hmm.’ Mrs Acland gave her a knowing look. ‘Well, do help yourself from the salvers on the sideboard. Cook likes to indulge Alexander when he visits, so we are spoiled for choice this morning.’

  Rowan duly lifted the lids, her stomach grumbling in appreciation at the array of coddled eggs, bacon, kidneys, black pudding, fried bread, tomatoes and mushrooms. After helping herself to some of everything, she took her place at the table and tucked in. It was only when Mrs Acland was pouring tea into her cup that she looked up and saw the woman was grinning. Glancing over at her plate, Rowan saw it was more modestly set with an egg and a single mushroom.

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Acland, I’m afraid I’ve been rather greedy. You must tell me what chores I can do to repay your kind hospitality.’

  ‘Don’t worry, my dear. You need building up after your ordeal. Enjoy your breakfast and then we can discuss what’s to be done,’ she said, turning her attention back to her food.

  Rowan did as she’d been bid, but although the food was delicious, she couldn’t help wondering what Mrs Acland had in store for her. Was she going to be asked to become a scullery maid? At least she’d have somewhere to stay, she thought.

  ‘Right, if you’re sure you’ve finished … ?’ Mrs Acland asked, as Rowan sat back in her chair, feeling replete.

  ‘That was the most scrumptious breakfast I’ve ever had in my life,’ Rowan said, patting her stomach.

  Mrs Acland smiled tolerantly. ‘Well, I’m sure Cook will be pleased to hear that. Now, I think the first thing we need to do is send for my dressmaker and get her to make adjustments to that dress. We can’t have you going out looking like you’ve donned something from the rag bag.’

  ‘Oh, no, Mrs Acland, there’s no need for that. I am quite capable of making the alterations myself, if you don’t mind some of this lovely material being chopped off?’ asked Rowan.

  ‘Well, if you are sure, Rowan. I know Mrs Pinker is busy making a bridal dress for her daughter at the moment. Now, I have things to attend to this morning, so perhaps you would like to sew upstairs in the privacy of your room. I will get Daisy to light the fire so that you don’t catch a chill.’

  Rowan was just about to say that she could see to it herself when she remembered the fear in the young girl’s eyes when she’d thought Rowan was after her job.

  ‘That would be most kind, Mrs Acland,’ she answered.

  ‘I will send Daisy up with my sewing box, and then she can also lay out those stockings and slippers for you,’ Mrs Acland said, her eyes twinkling so that Rowan was reminded of the superintendent. ‘Oh, and Rowan,’ the woman added as she stood up to leave, ‘I think it would be better if we don’t mention your stay at the asylum to anyone. Regrettably that place carries a stigma, and if we are to find you a suitable position, that would be sure to count against you.’

  ‘I see,’ Rowan replied, nodding her head. ‘Yes, I understand. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here, Mrs Acland. When I’ve finished sewing, you must let me know what I can do to earn my keep.’

  ‘Rowan, you are more than welcome here, but you are staying as our guest. It’s the least we can do after the terrible time you’ve experienced, and besides, I do enjoy young company,’ said Mrs Acland, giving her a gentle smile.

  Up in the Lilac Room, Rowan took off the yellow dress and donned the silk night wrap. No sooner had she settled herself at the table in the bay window than there was a knock on the door and Daisy reappeared.

  ‘Here yous are, miss,’ she said, placing an ornate sewing box before her. ‘Sorry I forgot yous stockings and slippers. Ma’am said I need to pay more attention to detail,’ she said, laying the hose on the bed and taking a pair of golden slippers from the walnut wardrobe. Then, kneeling before the fire, she set to work with the bellows. As flames blazed, she carefully placed the guard in front of the fireplace and got to her feet, but instead of leaving the room she stood staring at Rowan.

  ‘Is something wrong, Daisy?’ Rowan asked, putting down the needle she’d just threaded.

  ‘Pardon me for asking, miss, but I was wondering why yous always wear a red ribbon around your wrist. I saw yous had it on wit
h your night things and wondered if it was important to you, like.’

  ‘It’s the most treasured thing I have, Daisy. My mother always wore it and she gave it to me just before she died. It represents the circle of life, you see.’

  The little maid frowned. ‘Circle of life, miss?’

  ‘Continuity, Daisy. Although people die, their spirit lives on and is passed down through the family in actions and deeds. My mother passed on her rituals and goodness, and I hope I will pass these on to my daughter, if I’m blessed. There’s not a day that passes that I don’t look at this ribbon and remember my mother,’ she said, rubbing the red band.

  ‘Well, that can’t happen to me, can it? Me being an orphan, an’ all.’ Daisy looked so forlorn, Rowan wanted to put her arms around her. Knowing the gesture was likely to be met with suspicion, however, she cast around for something to reassure her.

  ‘But you can start your own, Daisy. Take your name, for example. Did you know Daisy means a miniature symbol of the sun?’

  ‘Really, miss?’ the little maid said, her eyes sparkling in delight. ‘They said at the orphanage I was found with a daisy in me hand, so that’s what they called me. I ain’t got no circle of life, though, ’cos I got no mother, have I?’

  ‘You could be the beginning of one, though, Daisy. Why, you could make a chain from the flowers on the lawn. Create your own circle,’ Rowan suggested.

  ‘Blimey, I’d better be quick then. Old Coggins mows the lawns on Tuesdays,’ the little maid said, hurrying from the room.

  Settling herself back in her seat, Rowan picked up the needle and pulled the dress towards her. If only her problems could be sorted out so easily, she thought. It was very kind of Mrs Acland to say she could stay here, but she needed to find some kind of position to support herself. But what? Her talents were limited. Although she could read and write, her education had been basic. She knew about life on a farm, so maybe she could do some domestic work or even help in the kitchen of a big house. Thinking about farm life reminded her of her father and Sab. Did they wonder where she was or had their lives already moved on? No doubt Fanny would have come up with some plausible explanation about her disappearance. And as for Sab, he’d been so distant latterly.

  The harder she thought, the quicker she sewed and it wasn’t long before the dress was altered to her satisfaction. Trying it on, she checked her appearance in the gilt-framed mirror hanging on the wall. Looking at her reflection, her eyes widened in amazement. Why, she looked like a lady, she thought, twisting her hair up into a knot and securing it with a couple of pins from the little glass dish on the dressing table. Then, she donned the stockings, climbed into the golden slippers and went downstairs.

  ‘My, my, my,’ Mrs Acland said as Rowan hesitated in the doorway of the parlour. ‘Rowan, I can truly say the duckling has turned into a swan. Come in and take a seat, my dear.’ She put down her embroidery hoop and indicated the chair opposite her own.

  ‘I don’t wish to interrupt you, Mrs Acland,’ Rowan said.

  ‘You are not, my dear. I only embroider to pass the time of day. The hours pass slowly when one is by oneself, so come and tell me all about yourself. First of all, though, I must have a look at that dress.’ Rowan moved closer. As Mrs Acland inspected her stitching, she fervently hoped everything would meet with the woman’s approval for, in truth, she’d done more contemplating than concentrating. ‘Well, Rowan, I am truly amazed,’ the woman finally pronounced, shaking her head. ‘I have never seen such stitching.’

  Rowan’s heart sank. She should have paid more attention to what she was doing. The last thing she wanted was to upset the woman who had kindly taken her into her home by making a mess of her fine material.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Acland –’ she began.

  ‘What for, Rowan? That is the finest sewing I have seen. Why, even Mrs Pinker’s stitches are not as fine as these. Now, take a seat and I’ll ring for some refreshment,’ she said, tugging at the bell pull. But before Rowan had moved over to the chair, Daisy appeared.

  ‘Ooh, miss, you doos look beautiful. You’d never think that was Mrs Acland’s old dress – oh, sorry, ma’am,’ Daisy said, blushing to the roots of her tawny hair.

  ‘Quite, Daisy,’ Mrs Acland said, trying to smother a smile. ‘Now perhaps you’d bring some iced tea.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said, bobbing a curtsy. Then, turning, she grinned and held up her hand so that Rowan could see the daisy chain around her wrist.

  ‘I’m pleased to see you are looking much happier today, Daisy,’ Mrs Acland said, and the maid nodded and disappeared to fetch the tea. ‘Well, it seems as if our little maid has settled into her new job at last,’ she declared.

  Rowan nodded, knowing how important it was to have a sense of belonging.

  ‘I don’t know what that daisy chain is about, but she has definitely taken to you, Rowan, and by the way she keeps staring at the ribbon around your wrist, she seems to equate it to that,’ she said, giving Rowan a shrewd look. ‘Still, if the girl is happier then so be it. Now, Rowan, I’ll just finish this, and then we will enjoy our refreshment.’ Mrs Acland picked up her embroidery hoop and selected a skein of cerise silk.

  ‘Oh, no, that colour would be completely wrong,’ Rowan said before she could stop herself.

  CHAPTER 21

  ‘What did you say, Rowan?’ asked Mrs Acland, with a frown.

  ‘I just meant that I thought that the cerise would be too harsh against the soft green you’ve used for the leaves,’ Rowan muttered, wondering how she could have been so rude as to voice her opinion out loud.

  ‘Really? What colour would you suggest I use for this sweet pea instead?’ she enquired, staring at Rowan over the rim of her glasses.

  ‘I would opt for the paler powder pink,’ Rowan replied. In the ensuing silence, she felt as if butterflies were holding their summer ball in her stomach. Now she’d really overstepped the mark.

  ‘And what colour for this flower, do you think?’

  ‘The light periwinkle,’ Rowan said, studying the array of silks.

  ‘And for this one?’ Mrs Acland persisted.

  ‘The blush pink,’ she whispered.

  Carefully, Mrs Acland selected the coloured silks Rowan had suggested, fanning them out on her fabric.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ Mrs Acland exclaimed.

  ‘I’m sorry to be so rude,’ Rowan said ruefully.

  ‘Rude, my dear? No, you have an amazing eye for colour. I can see now that the cerise would have been much too harsh, whilst these other hues complement each other beautifully. You know, Rowan, usually I find embroidery quite tedious but you have made me see how using the right silks can bring the flowers to life.’

  ‘Oh, thank you –’ Rowan replied, feeling relieved.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Daisy,’ Mrs Acland said, looking up as the maid entered with their drinks. ‘Set the tray down on the table by the window, if you please.’

  The maid did as she’d been asked, then with a big grin in Rowan’s direction, held up her arm that still bore the chain of flowers.

  ‘Thank you, Daisy, that will be all. Yes, you definitely have a little admirer, Rowan,’ she said with a smile, as the door closed behind the maid.

  ‘She’s very willing,’ Rowan said.

  ‘Indeed. Now let us sit by the window and enjoy our refreshment. I’d hate to spill any tea on my embroidery. It wouldn’t do to end up with brown sweet peas after the care we’ve taken to get the colours right, would it?’

  Settled in one of the comfortable chairs with their burgundy brocade cushions, Rowan sipped her lemon tea, thinking she’d never tasted anything so refreshing.

  ‘So how are you feeling after your unfortunate experience?’ Mrs Acland said, studying Rowan with her shrewd blue eyes.

  ‘I’m quite well, thank you for asking, Mrs Acland.’

  The woman nodded. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Alexander has filled me in on some of the detail leading up to your stay on the moors. You m
ust be missing your family, Rowan?’ she enquired gently.

  Rowan thought for a few moments. ‘To be honest, Mrs Acland, I’m not sure I do,’ she answered with a sigh.

  Her hostess smiled encouragingly. ‘Do go on, Rowan.’

  ‘Everything changed when Father married Fanny earlier this year. My stepmother made it quite clear she didn’t want me around. She said that if my father had to choose between us, he would choose her.’

  ‘Why would your father have to choose between you?’ Mrs Acland asked.

  ‘Because she wanted to take over the running of the household, and did not like the closeness I had with Father. She said she would win, as she could provide the womanly things a man needs.’

  Mrs Acland, who was taking a sip of her drink, almost choked at this and quickly placed her cup on the table.

  ‘As he didn’t come to find me, I’ve come to the conclusion that she is right,’ continued Rowan. ‘He hangs on her every word, doing everything she wants, so I think he must be a weak man with no mind of his own,’ she concluded, relieved to have put her thoughts into words.

  Mrs Acland sat looking at Rowan for a few moments. ‘I do know some men are easily led by the lure of an attractive woman,’ she said with such feeling, Rowan stared at her in surprise.

  ‘Mr Acland is away a lot on business,’ the woman said by way of explanation. Then she turned to stare out of the window, but not before Rowan had seen the glisten of tears in her eyes. Busying herself with her drink, Rowan looked out over the garden, where the gardener was mowing the lawn. Daisy had made her chain just in time, she thought.

  ‘In many ways, man is the weaker sex,’ Mrs Acland said, coming back to the present. ‘Therefore it is up to us to steer our lives in the direction we want. Now, Rowan, if going back to your farm is not an option, what position would you like us to find for you?’

  ‘I was thinking about that earlier, Mrs Acland, and I’m afraid my talents are limited,’ she said, shrugging, for in truth, although she was being shown nothing but the utmost kindness, she couldn’t help feeling like a fish stranded on the shore at low tide.