The Girl with the Red Ribbon

by Linda Finlay

  Rowan gave a sigh of relief. She would have to find out what exactly she was permitted to do.

  ‘I have only this moment stepped inside, Madame Louisa,’ the woman said with a smile. ‘I happened to be passing by when my eye was caught by that delightful creation in your window. It would be perfect for Lady Arlingham’s May Day celebrations. If the weather is clement, she is hoping to hold it in the open air,’ she said, eyes bright with anticipation.

  ‘Allow me to put it on for you,’ Louisa said, carefully lifting the bonnet from its stand. ‘Do come through to the fitting room,’ she said, sweeping back the curtain. ‘Miss Rowena will be on hand with the looking-glass so that you may see how the back looks.’

  With a swish of the curtain, the two ladies disappeared. As Rowan stared around the shop, she spotted the plain hand mirror lying on the counter. Picking it up, she couldn’t help remembering the beautiful one of her mother’s. With a dreadful pang she recalled how it had been left behind in the copse when she’d been snatched. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Fanny would now be able to access her room without the mirror there to guard it. She wondered if anyone had found it.

  Another swish of the curtain brought her back to the present.

  ‘Looking-glass, please, Miss Rowena,’ Louisa called. Hurrying over, she held it up so that the woman could see the back of the hat in the ornate standing mirror before her.

  ‘Oh, that is quite exquisite,’ Mrs Crawford trilled.

  ‘It’s as if it has been especially made for you, madam,’ Louisa flattered.

  ‘What do you think, girl?’ the woman asked, giving Rowena the full force of her stare.

  Rowan’s heart sank. Should she say what the woman wanted to hear, or what she honestly felt?

  CHAPTER 26

  ‘Well, Miss Rowena? Won’t you please share with us your humble opinion,’ Louisa said, frowning at her hesitation.

  ‘It is indeed the perfect shape for madam’s face,’ she stuttered. But the woman was staring at Rowan.

  ‘You are not totally convinced, my dear, I can tell,’ she persisted.

  As her employer shot her a warning look, Rowan thought quickly.

  ‘I just wondered what colour dress madam would be wearing with it,’ she said.

  Mrs Crawford considered. ‘Purple, dear. I shall be wearing purple silk.’

  ‘Perhaps Miss Rowena would care to give us her considered opinion on the match,’ Louisa said, throwing Rowan a challenging look.

  ‘Oh, yes, please do, dear. I do like a person who is not afraid to say what they really think,’ Mrs Crawford said, staring at Rowan, reflected in the looking-glass.

  Rowan glanced around, her eyes lighting on the myriad ribbons adorning the shelf above the counter.

  ‘I feel that perhaps if the bonnet were trimmed with contrasting lilac, deep rose and perhaps buttercup, it would complement madam’s dress better. The bonnet should be your crowning glory and the pale pinks and whites would fade into the background,’ Rowan said. As the little fitting room fell silent, Rowan swallowed hard. Had she been too impertinent?

  Then the woman turned to her and smiled. ‘Would you hold them up against the bonnet, please?’ Rowan turned to Louisa, who nodded, so she duly draped the ribbons over the bonnet.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ the woman said, turning this way and that in front of the mirror. ‘Madame Louisa, you have a modiste in the making. These colours completely transform the bonnet and yet they are still the perfect colours for May Day. If you can have them changed and the bonnet delivered tomorrow, I shall purchase.’

  ‘Of course, Mrs Crawford,’ Louisa said. ‘Rest assured, I will see Miss Rowena makes the changes herself.’

  As the little bell tinkled behind the woman’s retreating back, Louisa turned to Rowan and quirked an eyebrow. Rowan’s heart thumped in her chest. Had she gone too far? Would she be sacked?

  ‘Well, Miss Rowena, that was diplomatically handled, for of course I could see the pink and white ribbons were en mésalliance,’ her employer said, waving her hand theatrically in the air.

  ‘Pardon?’ Rowan said, her eyes widening.

  ‘It means an inappropriate match. They would have done her dress no justice,’ she said briskly.

  Well, if her employer knew, why hadn’t she told the woman herself?

  ‘Now,’ Louisa said, placing the hat on the counter, ‘please see that the fitting room is tidied and refreshed.’

  ‘Of course,’ Rowan said, letting out a silent breath of relief. ‘I do like this material,’ she added, pointing to the curtain.

  ‘That is toile de Jouy and I would be pleased if you would familiarize yourself with these names. Clients expect to deal with people who are knowledgeable,’ she added. ‘And on that subject, when you have finished tidying, we will go through the names and types of bonnets on display. Then, should you feel the need to suggest alterations to another client, as least you will know what you are talking about,’ she said, shaking her head as she disappeared through to the workroom.

  Oh dear, Rowan thought. It appeared she had offended her employer after all. She picked up the May Day hat and carefully replaced it on the stand in the window.

  As Rowan tidied the fitting room, her mind was in turmoil. Had she been wrong to tell Mrs Crawford the truth? Perhaps she should have followed her employer’s lead and flattered the woman. But Louisa had said they had a duty to the client, and surely that meant ensuring they looked their best. Oh, it was all so confusing. Perhaps she should go back to milking cows. At least she knew where she stood with them.

  ‘Miss Rowena, if you’ve quite finished, we will continue your instruction,’ Louisa said coming through to the shop.

  Quickly pulling the curtain back into place, Rowan nodded.

  ‘First, we will go through some of the basic shapes of bonnet. I have on display examples of each model, covered in different fabrics and trimmings. These can be altered to suit the client, or purchased as they are,’ her employer said.

  Rowan stared at the bonnets on the stands and frowned. ‘How do I know how much they are? They haven’t got the prices on,’ she said.

  Louisa arched an eyebrow. ‘One never flaunts prices, Miss Rowena. That is a vulgar custom practised by lower trades. However, should a client enquire, and most simply request their purchase be charged to their account, then you refer to this,’ she said, bending to retrieve a gilt-edged book from a drawer beneath the counter. ‘I must stress the importance of keeping this discreetly concealed at all times. The client must never see it. Of course, until you are more familiar with the business, you will refer to me before dealing with financial affairs. You understand, Miss Rowena?’

  Rowan nodded. That suited her fine.

  ‘Now you will find that most bonnets are constructed in a similar manner. It is the shape and fabric that differentiates them. This one, for example, is wired buckram, which of course can be covered with material of the client’s choice. Each bonnet is customized to the individual’s requirement, and I hardly need tell you that it would be mal à propos to sell two clients identical ones.’ From the grave look her employer was giving her, Rowan gathered it was something she mustn’t do on any account. Well, it made sense to her, for didn’t all ladies have different colouring?

  ‘This is the bavolet, or curtain,’ Louisa continued, pointing to the frilled fabric at the back. ‘Then you have the outer brim, the under brim, which is usually best lined in a toning material, the crown and the ties, which in this case are silk twill.’ Louisa ran her hand gently over the materials as she spoke.

  Rowan gulped. ‘I had no idea bonnets were made up of so many bits,’ she said.

  ‘It is indeed a misconception that a simple bonnet is easy to make. But then, Miss Rowena, I pride myself on creating les pièces de résistance and not run-of-the-mill. I encourage clients to make their own selections from the material here,’ she said, indicating the bales neatly lined along the shelves. ‘Then I adorn that with the ribbons, feathers,
flowers or trimming they desire. These examples here are merely to give them an idea. Taking into account their face shape, age, colouring and, in some cases, budget, it is your job to ensure they make the best choices. Although their means are never discussed, of course,’ she said, turning to look directly at Rowan. ‘That would be infra dig,’ she added in a hushed voice.

  Rowan gathered that she meant it was something she mustn’t do. But if she wasn’t told how much they had to spend how could she know what to suggest?

  Her employer had already moved on to another stand and Rowan had to admire her energy.

  ‘This we call the coal scuttle bonnet,’ Louisa said.

  Rowan laughed. ‘I can see why. It’s because of its shape, isn’t it?’

  ‘Indeed,’ Louisa said. ‘This example is covered with geranium silk twill and lined with a paler pink cotton bobbinet. The inner brim is covered with black silk and has matching black ties, also in silk twill.’

  ‘You’d have to have strong colouring to get away with that, wouldn’t you?’ Rowan observed.

  ‘You would,’ Louisa agreed. ‘As I have said, though, these are examples and all the bonnets can be customized to suit the clients’ requirements. We are here to invoke their desires,’ she said.

  ‘You mean like a charm. Assemble the ingredients, add some magic and …’

  ‘Voilà,’ supplied Louisa, waving her hand like a wand and smiling for the first time since Mrs Crawford had left. ‘I think we understand each other perfectly and as I have said before, I will be incorporating your idea of using flower names for the colours. I could see Mrs Crawford was really impressed when you mentioned lilac, rose and buttercup. It conjures up delightful images, reflecting perfectly the ambience I strive to portray. Now, back to bonnets. This one I have named Little Miss and, as you might suppose, it is designed for the younger ladies in our society. Then, of course, there are bonnets covered in black crepe for mourning, and calashes, which are hoods with hoops, old-fashioned but very useful for keeping caps and bonnets dry during inclement weather.’ Louisa turned to check that Rowan was taking in everything.

  ‘I have so much to learn, don’t I?’ Rowan said, shaking her head.

  ‘Yes, there is certainly more to it than one would suppose. Of course, as a mantua maker, I also visit ladies’ homes to measure and fit them for their dresses. Usually they purchase their own materials for that, so it is merely a case of sewing that up and adding any trimming they want.’

  The little bell tinkled, and a woman of senior years stood on the step looking furtively around, before entering the shop. Louisa turned to Rowan, whispering, ‘Observe and learn. Good afternoon, madam. How may I be of assistance?’ she asked, smiling in welcome.

  ‘Good afternoon. I am new to the district and wondered if you …’ She stuttered to a halt, glancing nervously in Rowan’s direction.

  ‘Miss Rowena, perhaps you would be good enough to attend to materials in the workroom,’ Louisa said quickly.

  ‘Of course, Madame Louisa,’ she replied, and disappeared through the curtain separating the two areas. She watched as the older woman bent closer to Louisa and whispered urgently. Her employer smiled reassuringly and wrote something in another little book. As the woman hurried out of the shop, the little bell tinkling in her wake, Rowan rejoined her employer.

  ‘She didn’t buy anything, then?’ she asked, in surprise.

  ‘Miss Carruthers placed an order. You will sometimes find that ladies of a certain age can be nervous of discussing their requirements in public. She is urgently in need of a new mantua and I have promised to call upon her first thing in the morning. Luckily she requires one in the traditional style, which, being straighter and narrower, will take minimal material and less time to make up,’ Louisa said, smiling. ‘I wasn’t intending to leave you alone so soon, but I’m sure you will manage. It will give you time to finish retrimming that bonnet for Mrs Crawford if you don’t manage to get it done tonight.’

  Rowan gulped, but before she could voice her fears of being left alone, the room went dark as a carriage drew up outside the window.

  The bell gave its little tinkle and a tall, regal-looking lady swept into the shop, her silk skirts rustling in her wake.

  ‘Good afternoon, Lady Arlingham. What a lovely surprise,’ Louisa greeted her.

  ‘Madame Louisa, I was passing by your shop when my eye was taken by that magnificent bonnet in the window, and knew I just had to have it. I am hosting a little soirée on May Day and that will be quite perfect. Please have it delivered tomorrow. Good afternoon.’

  Before Louisa could open her mouth to answer, the woman left. Horrified, Louisa stared at the bonnet in the window but the carriage was already drawing away.

  ‘How did that get there?’ she asked, turning to Rowan. ‘I left it on the counter ready for the trimmings to be changed for Mrs Crawford.’

  ‘I placed it back on the stand when I was tidying away,’ Rowan murmured.

  ‘How could you? Once a hat is sold it is never left on display,’ her employer berated.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,’ Rowan said, her knees trembling.

  ‘Whatever shall I do? I’ve already promised the hat to Mrs Crawford, yet Lady Arlingham is a woman of great standing here in Saltmouth. My reputation will be ruined,’ she whispered, sinking onto the chair.

  Aware that she’d committed a cardinal sin, Rowan thought hard.

  ‘Perhaps if you explained to Mrs Crawford, she would be happy to choose another one,’ she ventured.

  ‘I suppose I could call and see her, offer her a more expensively trimmed bonnet for the price of the original. But, no, that would never work. It would be mal à propos if she were to appear in public more handsomely attired than her hostess.’

  ‘But who would know?’ Rowan asked, frowning.

  ‘I would know and Lady Arlingham would see from the trimmings …’ Louisa’s protests were cut short as the little bell tinkled once more and Mrs Parker stepped through the door.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Parker,’ Louisa said, getting to her feet and forcing a smile.

  ‘Madame Louisa, I am most perplexed,’ the woman said, her beady eyes brimming with curiosity.

  ‘Indeed, Mrs Parker, and why might that be?’ Louisa asked, with a barely suppressed sigh.

  ‘Earlier this afternoon I was taking tea with Mrs Crawford when she told me she had purchased that beautiful new bonnet you have had on display, for Lady Arlingham’s May Day gathering. She was in such a state of excitement. Well, imagine my surprise when I just happened to be passing your shop and saw it still displayed in the window. I know you have only made one, as you told me yourself. I also know it is your policy to remove a bonnet once it has been sold, so I wondered if my dear friend might have been mistaken about her purchase. She is getting on in years and prone to forgetfulness,’ Mrs Parker said, with a shake of her head.

  Rowan heard Louisa smother a very unladylike exclamation.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Parker. Your powers of observation are as acute as ever, as is Mrs Crawford’s memory. I think you will be suitably reassured when you see them both at the party. I take it you, too, have been invited?’ Louisa asked solicitously. In a snap, Mrs Parker’s gleeful look was replaced by a scowl.

  ‘I merely wished to acquaint you with my findings in case a mistake had occurred,’ the woman muttered, giving an indignant sniff as she hurried from the shop.

  ‘If only you knew, Mrs Parker, if only you knew,’ Louisa whispered, flopping back down on the chair.

  ‘She only came in to make mischief, didn’t she?’ Rowan asked.

  Louisa nodded.

  ‘And you knew she wasn’t invited to the soirée, didn’t you?’

  Louisa nodded again. ‘She is a nosy woman, inclined to spite. For obvious reasons, her presence is hardly ever requested at social gatherings. Still, that doesn’t solve our problem, does it?’

  ‘I’m really sorry …’ Rowan began, but Louisa interrupted.
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  ‘No, it’s my fault for not ensuring the bonnet was placed in the workroom ready for the ribbons to be changed. Well, it is time to close the shop for today. Let us go through and have something to eat. Maria will have left something ready. We can ponder a solution whilst we eat. If, indeed, there is one,’ she said, looking despondent.

  Rowan felt a pang when she saw how ashen her employer looked. Although she had been quite reasonable under the circumstances, Rowan was mortified to have caused her such anxiety.

  The little maid had left a rabbit stew simmering on the open range and, despite her anxiety about their predicament, the smell made Rowan’s mouth water. There were freshly baked rolls to mop up the rich gravy, and although they ate in silence she felt her spirits reviving. Her imagination went into overdrive as she strove to find an answer. As her mind went over all the bonnets displayed in the shop, a vision of the two women popped into her head. Excitedly, she jumped to her feet.

  ‘That’s it!’ she exclaimed, making Louisa jump. ‘They’re both so different.’

  ‘Sorry, Rowan, do you think you could elucidate?’ Louisa asked, quite forgetting to call her Miss Rowena.

  ‘Mrs Crawford is quite petite, like me, while Lady Arlingham is tall and, well, a bit on the large side,’ she said. ‘So I think I have the answer to the problem.’

  CHAPTER 27

  ‘Miss Rowena, just because you are the cause of this trouble, I don’t think there’s any need to be rude,’ Louisa protested, looking aghast.

  ‘Oh, I’m not, Madame Louisa. Truly I’m not,’ Rowan cried. ‘I merely meant that as Lady Arlingham is quite, well, regal, that bonnet would get lost on her head. The other one with the bigger crown – sorry, I’ve forgotten its name – would suit her better,’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘You mean the Lady Anna cottage bonnet? Yes, I can see that its height and wider brim would be more appropriate for Lady Arlingham’s stature. However, the one displayed in the window was the Lady Rachel model,’ Louisa pointed out.