Page 37 of The Gentlewoman Apprentice

When spoons scraped the bottom of bowls, Meg thanked her guests and bade farewell. Lady Halverton promised to send a carriage next Saturday for the literary breakfast, and Miss Matilde begged to join. Meg agreed.

Miss Ivy’s farewell was chilling.

When the door closed, Meg collapsed in a chair. “Heavens, Grace, I never imagined they would eat with us.”

“Nor I.” Grace poured them each a cup of tea and sat with her.

Matilde sipped her tea happily. “But I’m glad they did. They are such lovely acquaintances. You best keep them close.”

Meg nodded thoughtfully. “You are right. Lady Halverton’s patronage will go far when the shop opens.”

“What could they mean showing up here of an evening?” Grace asked. “Suspicious, is what I call it.” She distrusted everyone of higher social class. Meg understood the unease but found it hard not to like Lady Halverton.

“When you entered the house, how much of what I said could you hear?” Meg asked.

“Every word, I’m afraid. I began talking immediately, but their ears were attuned to you.”

Meg groaned. “Miss Ivy will tell Mr. Sloan everything. This may be my end.”

“Nothing so petty would stop you.” Grace squeezed Meg’s shoulder.

“And we will assist you, no matter what happens with Mr. Sloan,” Matilde said.

Grace helped Miss Matilde tidy the kitchen while Meg retreated to the shop in search of work to ease the sinking weight in her chest.

Rather than beginning early at Sloan Tailoring, Meg remained at home working on her own projects. Mr. Sloan might appreciate her if he noticed how much better things went when she was there. And if Miss Ivy had told him what she said, her own ventures must take precedence.

When she finally entered the shop thirty minutes later than everyone else, she found the anticipated disarray. Snippets of fabric littered the floor, empty spools rolled about, the grates were full of yesterday’s ash, and the little boy she’d convinced Mr. Sloan to hire sat in a corner tying scraps into a long chain.

“Good morning,” she told the apprentices, who mumbled their greetings with sheepish looks. They were strange with her. Did they know something?

Mr. Sloan stepped from his office. “Miss Cooper, may I speak with you?”

Miss Ivy had told him already.

He motioned for her to sit, then took his place across the desk. Separated by two feet, unease swirled in her belly. She leaned back as far as possible and looked out the window.

“I apologize for my rudeness yesterday in trying to explain myself. I would like you to understand that when I received word of Lord Downsbury’s passing, I departed in the early morning hours, which did not permit time to extend an invitation. I beg your pardon and ask for your assistance assembling the gowns for Lady Downsbury and her daughters.”

Relief washed from her shoulders to her toes. He did not ask in which ways she had broken their contract. His confession was thorough and convinced her she’d misjudged him.

“Thank you, sir. My conclusions were hastily drawn. Pardon my rudeness. Shall we begin?” There was no sense in prolonging the matter. She did not wish to dwell on any of his misdeeds when her own cast a weighty blight over what might have been friendship.

“There is one more thing. Yesterday, in your absence, Master Dickson paid me a visit with the intention of warning against my teaching you. He threatened my removal from the guild if he discovers otherwise.”

“He wouldn’t.” Her chest tightened, grasping at the education she craved as she felt it slipping away. She knew enough of odious Master Dickson to be assured he would indeed expel Mr. Sloan from the guild.

“Several tradespeople have been upset about your position, concerned that more women will begin demanding membership into guilds. Until you arrived, I admit I took their opinion but did not examine the problem. Now I’ve come to know you, I see no reason to keep you from your goal. Rest assured, I will continue to teach you, but we must not spark suspicion. Townsfolk may report to the guild and put a stop to what they deem heresy.”

Meg had braced herself for a fight, ready to argue against any reason Mr. Sloan put against instructing her, but he was on her side, a fact that did not slide easily into her understanding. Time would tell if she could take him at his word.

“Do you fear the apprentices will give me up?”

He laughed. “Hardly. They are devoted to you, Miss Cooper.” He looked as if he would ask a question but said, “I believe you are safe with them. It’s everyone else whose loyalty I question.”

The risk he took for her sake made no sense, but acceptance was her choice. She decided not to dwell on his selfless kindness and pressed her hand over her ribs to calm the fluttering anticipation of receiving his attention. Liking him would create difficulties. “We shall be discreet.” She sounded too eager. Pausing for a breath, she said, “I can remain unseen when anyone from the guild comes to visit, and you must treat me as though I am a mere needlewoman helping you with your female customers when ladies come for fittings. What other precautions should we take?”

“That will do for now.”