A Lady of Hidden Intent (10 page)

“Do you have any questions?”

Winifred got to her feet. “No, everything looks perfect. I’m glad we waited for this fabric. I very much like the silk, and the trims and laces are lovely. I will wait to hear from you.”

Catherine could hardly draw breath until they’d stepped out of the house. She hurried to put her things away and nearly collided with Lydia.

“I’m sorry, Catherine.”

“No harm done. My mind was elsewhere.”

Lydia looked at her as if considering something uncomfortable. “I . . . well . . . I’m glad you had me reset the basting in the bodice. It looks much better.”

“We all have to learn, Lydia. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t show talent. I simply didn’t want you to settle for a job only done in part.”

Lydia nodded. “I want to do a good job.”

“And you do,” Felicia said as she came into the room behind Catherine. She looked at Catherine as if daring her to argue.

“You mustn’t allow anyone to tell you otherwise.”

“Lydia is a very talented young woman,” Catherine said, stepping aside to put her things away. “But even talented people need guidance and direction.”

“Are you about to preach a sermon?”

Felicia’s smug expression helped Catherine to recover from her earlier bout of nerves. “I will leave that to the theologians,” she replied. “Now, if you are both in need of work . . .” Catherine let the words trail off as she observed each young woman.

“I have a job,” Lydia said quickly. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me.” Lydia quickly hurried from the room.

Catherine lost no time in turning to face Felicia. “You would do well to remember your place in this house. I won’t have you undermining my authority with the girls. Nor will I have you discredit a young woman putting aside her pride to accept direction. I hope that I will not find it necessary to take this matter to Mrs. Clarkson.”

Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “One day you’ll be sorry you’ve made an enemy of me.”

“I have never tried to make an enemy of you, Felicia, but I do require respect for my position.” Catherine put away her scissors and closed the drawer. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

She headed out of the pattern room and went to check on the progress being made by some of the other girls. She wasn’t sure, but she thought Felicia muttered something about getting her due.

Catherine sighed. Between having to worry about what Felicia might do and whether or not Carter Danby would remember her true identity, Catherine felt her energy drain away. Unfortunately, there were still many hours of work to complete. She whispered a prayer and knew that no matter the trials that came her way, she had to keep going for her father. Every dollar she saved meant a chance for him to be freed. No one was giving him any help. No one was worried about how tired or worried he might be—no one, except Catherine.

CHAPTER 6

A
few days later, Mrs. Clarkson addressed everyone at breakfast. Although she often gave news at the morning meal, today was different. The sense of anticipation was even greater due to her including Selma and Dugan.

“It is nearly October and we have a large order—the largest ever, in fact—of gowns to complete for the Christmas season, with some additional costumes requested for the New Year’s Eve parties. It will require a great deal of dedication and work on our part. I am, however, prepared to offer large bonuses to compensate for the extra work. These bonuses will extend even to the girls who are not yet making a regular salary.”

Catherine noticed the exchange of smiles between Lydia and Beatrix, the only two who weren’t being paid. The news would no doubt be very well received by their families.

Picking at her eggs, Catherine continued to listen, knowing that the days to come would be quite taxing. Last year she had worked eighteen hours a day, without proper meals, for over six weeks. There were even a few days when she had no more than four hours of sleep. The memory of her aching shoulders and tired eyes made her wish the season were already behind them.

“And of course we must complete all the work orders, even if it requires getting additional help. Which, I’m happy to say, I have already arranged for. Most will help with the bulk work. They can easily hand-stitch undergarments, skirts, and the like. Selma will continue with cooking and cleaning; however, we might allow the deeper cleaning to go for the time, allowing her to help us with bastings and fittings. She is quite good at this, as those of you who were with us last year will remember.”

“But if you’re hiring all this extra help,” Felicia said with a pout, “that will mean less opportunity for us to earn extra money.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Clarkson assured. “We have taken double the number of gowns as we had last year. And while we have two more girls on staff, they are not yet able to do much of the finish work. There will be plenty of chances to earn bonus money, I assure you.”

Mrs. Clarkson looked down at a piece of paper she held. “I want also to announce that Lydia is being moved into the position of Improver. She will now work with Felicia. Felicia, I will periodically check the garments Lydia sews and approve or reject the work. My review of your work will be judged not only on the garments you sew but the ones Lydia helps with as well.”

“So if she does a poor job, I will be held responsible? That hardly seems fair.”

Catherine held her tongue, despite wanting very much to give her a piece of her mind. Mrs. Clarkson would handle the matter.

“Yes, that’s exactly how it will be. A supervisor is no better than the subordinates she oversees. If she cannot get the proper job out of her worker, it is a reflection on her abilities to lead, instruct, and train. Lydia’s work will be a reflection of your teaching.”

“I’ll do a good job, I promise,” Lydia interjected.

Felicia looked at her rather sourly for a moment, then smiled.

“I know you’ll do exactly as I say.”

Catherine felt sorry for Lydia. The tone of Felicia’s voice made it clear that she would treat the girl like a slave. Picking up her nearly empty cup of tea, Catherine drank the last of it as Mrs. Clarkson continued.

“Dolley, you will work as a team with Catherine and Beatrix.”

Orphaned at fourteen, Dolley had worked in Mrs. Clarkson’s house ever since. She had proven herself quite industrious and, despite her rather plump figure, was probably the most energetic of all the workers. Pushing back strands of dull blond hair, Dolley threw Catherine a smile. They worked well together, and as an Assistant with over a year’s experience, Catherine knew Dolley could sew even the most intricate garment.

“Martha will work with me,” Mrs. Clarkson continued. “As will Selma when time permits. Our projects are divided into these three groups. I will post the assignment of customers so that there are no questions over what group is responsible for each project. Does everyone understand?”

“I only have myself and Lydia,” Felicia said, shaking her head.

“That hardly seems fair. How can I hope to get as many pieces of work completed?”

Mrs. Clarkson nodded. “Catherine will oversee the designs and create new pieces as needed. So you see, her team will mostly rely upon Dolley and Beatrix to accomplish the work. Even so, I have already accounted for your needs. Extra help will be available to you to sew some of the bulk work, as mentioned. And because Lydia is still quite new in her training, I have assigned you gowns where the patterns have already been created. You won’t need to worry about remaking the patterns or designing any part of the gown.”

Felicia knew better than to comment further. She was getting the easier end of the work load and knew it very well. She sat back and folded her arms against her chest but said nothing more.

“Now, does everyone understand their position and station here?” The girls all nodded and Mrs. Clarkson smiled. “Good.

Catherine, do you have anything else to add?”

Catherine considered the situation for a moment. “Everyone must feel free to come to me if you have any questions on the designs. I tried to work intimately with each customer, paying close attention to her form. Some of the details we’ve included on the pattern might not make sense, but rather than overlook them or change them, I would ask that you consult with me first.”

“Yes,” Mrs. Clarkson said, nodding quite soberly. “This is critical. Catherine’s designs are the reason the women have flocked to us in great number. You must put aside any petty jealousy or conflict with this thought and do a job worthy of the customer’s faith. They enjoy Catherine’s creativity, but Catherine herself knows that the entire sewing house is needed in order to bring a design to life. We are a team, and we need each person to do what they do best. There is no room for squabbles or animosity, and should such attitudes surface, they will be dealt with swiftly. If they are unable to be resolved, it might well result in my having to dismiss you. Understood?”

The girls nodded in unison, except for Felicia. She eyed Catherine with a look that suggested she thought otherwise, but then quickly looked to Mrs. Clarkson and replied, “I understand completely.”

Catherine was certain the anger Felicia held for her would result in no good. The girl had been jealous of Catherine for as long as they had worked here. They had come to Mrs. Clarkson’s at nearly the same time, but Catherine’s skills had already been in place. Not only that, but her artistic abilities and intimate knowledge of gowns that would please the wealthy did nothing to endear her to Felicia—yet everything to promote Catherine’s position with Mrs. Clarkson. Felicia had caused Catherine grief ever since.

Catherine sighed and pushed back her plate. It looked to be a long season.

Carter rechecked his notes from the previous day’s meeting at Mr. Montgomery’s house. The carpenters were all to his liking, and the initial estimates for the various labors involved were also approved. If the weather held mild, they could actually begin some of the initial work—clearing ground and hauling materials in preparation for the start of construction.

Analyzing the size and detail of the project, Carter was certain the building would take at least three years to complete.

Montgomery wanted it sooner, but Carter had stressed that it was imperative to do it right, lest the entire thing come crashing down. He would not encourage the men to rush a job just to meet an unreasonable timetable. If Montgomery insisted on that, he had the wrong man.

The front door crashed with the impact of someone slamming it shut. Carter got up from his desk to see who had come, but he felt fairly certain he would find his brother, Robin, as the only other person to enter in such a manner was their father, and he was tied up in Baltimore at meetings.

“Father!” Robin called out from the foyer. “Father!”

“Sir, your father has gone to Baltimore on business,” Wilson announced as Carter made his way to the scene.

Robin let loose a stream of obscenities. “Why is he never here when I need to talk to him?” He looked at Carter, as if trying to ascertain whether he could be of any help, then threw off his coat and tossed his hat and gloves at Wilson. Storming past Carter, he demanded, “Come with me.”

Carter rolled his gaze heavenward and shook his head at Wilson. The butler seemed to completely understand but offered no other word on the matter. Carter knew he would never speak his thoughts on the matter, but there were times when he would have loved to have had a long conversation with Wilson regarding the Danby men.

With a sigh, Carter followed Robin down the hall. He wasn’t surprised when his brother waltzed into Carter’s office as though he owned the place. Without asking, Robin threw himself into a large leather chair and began to rant.

“What, pray tell, is Father about in Baltimore?”

Carter went to his desk and took a seat. It looked as if this tirade might take some time. “I believe there were to be meetings about a cotton contract.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember him talking about it. He wanted me to go, but I was already committed to a deal in Kentucky.

That, however, was canceled last week. I’m surprised he didn’t insist I go to Baltimore in his place.” His brother got up and crossed to the butler’s cord. Pulling it, he shook his head. “Why do you not have any liquor in this room?”