“Yes.”
“When my cousin saw your sketches, she, too, was impressed with your untrained eye for design, which is why she sent me those two sketches. She thought I might wish to consider offering you an apprenticeship.”
“Yes, I told her that,” Mrs. Crofton said, offering Emmy a reassuring smile that wordlessly said all was going well and that Emmy didn’t need to be so nervous.
“Now, Mrs. Dabney and I wish to do our part in the war effort, you see. Eloise tells me you have been evacuated to Gloucestershire and have spent the last few months there?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Emmy could scarcely breathe. What was she going to tell him about not having the sketches?
Graham Dabney nodded to his wife, who smiled at him. “Mrs. Dabney and I have discussed taking in a London evacuee. It occurred to me that, depending on the strength of the rest of your designs, we might offer to take you with us on Tuesday to my wife’s estate outside Edinburgh. That way I could teach you about dress construction, pattern making, all that. And while you learn, you can assist me in the creation of a series of costumes for a production ofLa Bohèmein Boston. I think you would find the work as entertaining as it would be educational. The gowns forLa Bohèmeare quite impressive.”
Emmy swallowed hard. “The strength of the rest of my designs?”
Mr. Dabney sat back, distancing himself a little from her. “Yes, of course. It would be unkind of me to bring you on as an apprentice if you’ve not the natural talent that I am hoping you have. I already know you do not have the sewing experience. You would have to have one of the two.” He laughed lightly, expecting Emmy would also.
Mrs. Crofton offered a half chuckle, surely meant to keep the conversation light. “I think you’ll be quite satisfied with the rest of her work, Graham. Perhaps nowwould be a good time to show us the rest of your sketches, Emmeline?”
Emmy looked from Mrs. Crofton to Mr. Graham and to his lovely but obviously shy wife. Which of them could she appeal to?
“Emmeline?” Mrs. Crofton said.
Emmy closed her eyes as the truth, the only thing she could think to say, bubbled out of her. “I don’t have them with me today.”
“Did you not tell her to bring them?” Emmy could hear the disapproval in Graham Dabney’s voice as he addressed his cousin.
“Of course I did,” was Mrs. Crofton’s quick reply. “Emmeline?”
Emmy opened her eyes to look at her.
“Why didn’t you bring them?”
Please God, let the truth be enough,she prayed to the Almighty.
“I had them in this satchel, inside the box I carry them in. My sister—she’s only seven—was worried that she might not see me again if I went to this meeting, and then became your apprentice. She substituted her fairy tale book for the box.” She lifted the book out of the bag and placed it on her lap. “I just now discovered this, as I heard your voices outside the door. I am so very sorry. She—she’s only a child. I promise I can get the sketches back. If you would allow me a couple days to retrieve them.”
“A couple days?” Mrs. Crofton echoed. The other two adults stared at Emmy, apparently still trying to absorb what she had said.
“My sister made the switch when we were still in Gloucestershire. I need to travel back to the house where we’ve been living and get them.”
Mr. Dabney still seemed to be processing Emmy’s excuse. “But we are closing up this house and leaving on Tuesday.”
“Please,” Emmy pleaded. “Just give me tomorrow to return to Gloucestershire and get them. I can be here on Monday to show them to you.”
“With your mother?” Mr. Dabney replied. “There is no point in returning on Monday without your mother. I do not wish to be arrested for kidnapping.”
“Graham, dear.” Mrs. Dabney touched her husband’s arm, but her eyes were on Emmy. The woman could obviously see the turmoil that was raging inside her.
“Madeleine, we cannot take a fifteen-year-old girl to Scotland without her mother’s permission.”
“Of course we can’t.” Mrs. Dabney offered Emmy as compassionate a look as someone could. “Do go retrieve your sketches, Miss Downtree. And come back Monday at this same hour with your mum.” She turned to her husband. “That will work, won’t it, Graham?”
“We’ve a lot of arrangements to make, but I suppose it can, yes. But you must remember, Miss Downtree, I cannot take you with us unless I see the rest of your sketches. The work will be too daunting for you if you’ve no natural flair for it. I must be convinced you have it. It would not be good for either one of us if you don’t.”
“Yes. Yes, thank you,” Emmy said, not much louder than a whisper. She felt on the edge of bursting into tears and she did not want even one tiny drop to find its way out of either eye. Emmy stood so that she could take her leave. She had an enormous task ahead of her.
The others stood, too. Emmy shoved the fairy tale book inside the satchel. “I’m so sorry to have wasted your time today, Mr. Dabney.”
Mrs. Crofton reached out a hand to touch Emmy’s arm. “It’s not entirely your fault, Emmeline. You didn’t know your sister switched out the box with her book at the last minute.”
