A Rumored Engagement. Lily George

gesture. “Coombe Hall is my home. Perhaps you could come on Thursday next?”

      “Yes, of course.” Susannah grasped the scrap of paper and scanned it quickly. The Honorable Evangeline Snowden. Gracious above, the gentry. Just as she’d suspected. “I shall be there with one of my two assistants whenever you wish.” She indicated her sisters with a slight lift of her shoulder and placed the unfinished bonnet on the rough wooden table beside her.

      “You shan’t have her before me,” Eliza scolded playfully, tapping Evangeline lightly on the arm. “Miss Siddons is my discovery. I was the one who insisted on coming into the village today, and I saw her shop first.” She turned to Susannah, her smile causing her dimples to leap. “Can you be at my home on Monday? After noon, I should think. It’s Kelwedge Hall, and I shall send my carriage for you.” Eliza held out her calling card, as well, and Susannah accepted it with a curtsy.

      “Of course, ma—” Susannah stopped abruptly and read the card. The Honorable Elizabeth Glaspell. Oh, dear. How was one to address an Honorable Miss? She cast her mind around desperately. If she was going to play the toffy milliner, she’d have to learn how to address lords and ladies properly.

      Eliza chuckled at Susannah’s confusion. “Never mind. Just call me Miss Glaspell. Shall I send the carriage for you on Monday, then?”

      Susannah nodded and bobbed another curtsy. “Of course, Miss Glaspell.”

      “May I still purchase that fetching little blue bonnet?” Annabella began rummaging in her reticule. “It’s a display piece, so still a one-off. Will this cover it?” She pressed a few notes into Susannah’s hand.

      “We had not planned to sell that particular item or any from the display, but since you’ve taken a fancy to it...” Susannah trailed off. Giddiness made her head swim. If only the trio would leave soon, she could sit back down, calm her trembling knees and have a bracing cup of tea.

      “Good.” Annabella removed the bonnet from the hat stand with a satisfied air, and Nan scurried forward with one of their precious few hat boxes. Nan tucked the bonnet in with a flourish, tying the box lid on with one of her elaborate bows.

      “I share seamstresses with Evangeline,” Annabella said, taking the box from Nan. “So when you go to Coombe Park, I will work with you at the same time.” She handed Susannah her card.

      Susannah glanced over the ivory scrap of paper. The Honorable Miss Annabella Prestwidge was engraved upon it in elegant script. Gentry clients—even the fragments of their existence, such as this card—were refined beyond compare.

      “Of course.” Susannah nodded. “Thursday next.”

      The three ladies left as abruptly as they had arrived, chattering and giggling among themselves. As the sound of their voices faded, Susannah dropped into her chair. Exhaustion and elation swamped her. One bonnet sold, and the promise of commissions? This was more than she dared hope.

      “Susannah, you were brilliant!” Becky rushed over, enveloping her in a fierce hug. “I am so proud of you! You were as cool as could be— If it had been me, I should have fainted from nerves!”

      “Nonsense.” Her trembling voice surely belied the forthright pronouncement. “’Twas nothing at all. Becky, you shall watch the store on Monday, and I shall take Nan with me as my assistant. As the second eldest, you should be in charge. Next year, when Nan turns seventeen, then she can watch the store by herself.”

      “Don’t be absurd,” Nan countered, but Becky shushed her.

      “Think of it, Nan! You’ll get to see Miss Glaspell’s fine home. And they’ll come to regard you as an apprentice.” Becky gave her sister an encouraging smile.

      “Oh, very well.” Nan sighed. She turned to Susannah. “I’ll go with you.”

      “Thank you for your gracious acceptance,” Susannah remarked dryly. “Now, back to work, ladies. We may have more customers, and we may not. The best way to make the day pass quickly is to work. And that way, when we do visit Miss Glaspell and these other gentlewomen, we shall have more trimmings with which to whip up dazzling adornments.”

      Her admonishment proved sound, for though they left the door open and the fine weather drew many people to the village that day, not another soul crossed their threshold. Women would venture down to their quiet end of the street and steal a peep at the shop window, but either out of timidity or lack of interest, they wandered off.

      If they hadn’t received the attention of the Honorable Misses Eliza, Annabella and Evangeline, she would have felt very low indeed. As it was, their early success made her hopes rise almost too high, even though she’d cautioned her sisters against the same failing.

      As the afternoon light faded, she cast her work aside and surveyed her sisters. They were working side by side, chattering away like magpies. They’d always been close. Whereas Susannah had always been like their mother. A pang of something like envy shot through her as she watched them together. How nice it would be to have a confidant. Someone she could chatter on with about the day’s success.

      Gracious. That was the second time she’d harbored such a thought lately. She stretched, unknotting her back as she reached her arms toward the ceiling. How ridiculous—to be mooning over her lack of close friends. What she needed to focus upon was her own dawning independence. If she relied on no one, then she had nothing to fear. No one could abandon her. No one would hurt her. She would earn her own bread and be beholden to herself only.

      But somehow, that old comforting thought had lost its appeal.

      She must be tired and hungry. That was all.

      Susannah turned her mind to the practical matters at hand. And what could they have for supper? Perhaps she could use some of the profit from the bonnet sale to buy a little celebratory dinner. “Girls, I shall go down the street and see if I can find some sort of repast for us. You two finish up what you’re doing, and lay the table. I shall be back directly.”

      The girls murmured their approval but did not look up from their handiwork. Susannah tucked the money into her reticule and stepped out, slinging a wooden basket over her arm.

      As she ventured forth, a strong hand caught her arm, and she gasped. A robber? Set to steal her day’s profits? Her mouth went dry as she whirled to confront her assailant.

      “Hello, Susannah,” a confident male voice greeted her cheerily, and she gazed up into familiar green eyes that sparkled with mischief. “How was the first day?”

      * * *

      Susannah looked as though she was ready to strike him or cry. “Are you all right?” Daniel asked, leaning in close to her. He caught her faint scent of orange blossom and closed his eyes for a brief moment. Ever since she was a girl, Susannah had had the knack of capturing his full attention, of swamping his senses. No other woman, not even in the far corners of the world, had quite the same captivating effect upon him as Susannah Siddons.

      Even the headache that throbbed all day, a reminder of the previous night’s drinking bout with Paul, had begun to subside when he found Susannah.

      “You startled me, that is all.” She took a step backward and removed his hand from her arm. “Do you always jump out at unsuspecting milliners?”

      “No, this is my first opportunity.” He cast a lighthearted grin her way and took the basket. “Wither are you bound?”

      “To find food. The bounty you sent from Goodwin has dwindled.” Her responses were brief, but some of the brittleness had gone from her voice. That was a good sign.

      “You could join me at the Hall for dinner.”

      Susannah halted in her tracks, staring up at him with an exasperated frown. “How would that be remotely proper?”

      “It wouldn’t be proper. But it might be fun. And we agreed to be friends.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “After all, what do you care what anyone says? Aren’t you your own woman now?”