Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager. Sarah Mallory
continuing cold weather has made it necessary for me to order a new redingote, and I have persuaded Mrs Logan it is time she bought a new gown. We have brought with us a length of silk especially for the purpose.’ Susannah smiled. ‘I trust everything goes well here?’
‘Very well, thank you, we have made some changes.’ Odesse paused. ‘Would you like to come and see?’
‘We would indeed!’
She took them back down the stairs and through a door on the ground floor. The room was alive with quiet chatter, which stopped as they went in. Four young women were present, sitting near the large window. Each one was engaged in sewing the swathe of material spread over her knees, while a nearby table was covered in a confusion of brightly coloured material and threads. Madame Odesse waved an expressive hand
‘This is now our sewing room.’
Susannah smiled at the young ladies but hastily begged them not to get up or stop their work. She was acquainted with them all and knew that each one had a baby to look after. The absence of cribs and crying was noticeable.
‘Where are the children?’ she asked.
‘We take it in turns now to stay in the nursery with the babes,’ offered one of the girls in a shy voice. She added, indicating the cloud of pale-blue woollen fabric on her lap, ‘I am sewing the final seam of your walking dress now, Miss Prentess.’
‘My girls find they prefer to work away from the babies,’ added the modiste. ‘We have six seamstresses living here now, and Mabel, of course, who is proving herself a valuable assistant to me. Two of my girls stay in the nursery while the others get on with the sewing.’
‘And the lace-makers?’ asked Kate. ‘How do they go on?’
‘Very well.’ Madame Odesse’s dark eyes twinkled. ‘The fashion for extensive trimming on gowns could not have come at a better time. Demand is growing for our exclusive lace, and I hope they will be able to train up a few more girls soon.’
‘And have you room for more seamstresses?’
‘Certainly,’ agreed Odesse. ‘If we keep getting new customers then I shall have work for them, too.’
She led them down another flight of stairs to the nursery, where two young women were looking after the babies in a large, comfortably warm room. Susannah and Kate spent some time in the nursery before making their way back upstairs, Susannah declaring herself very satisfied with the arrangements.
‘It appears to be working out very well,’ she remarked, when they were once again in the reception room. ‘The children are content and their mothers seem happy.’
The modiste took her hands and pressed them, saying earnestly, ‘We all appreciate your giving us this chance to keep our babies and earn a living, Miss Prentess.’
‘I am glad to do it, and the gowns you have made for me are very much admired, Olive—I mean Odesse,’ Susannah corrected herself hastily. ‘I beg your pardon!’
The seamstress laughed and shook her head.
‘I would not have you beg my pardon for anything. When I consider what might have happened, to all of us….’ There was a moment’s uneasy silence before she shook off her reflective mood and said brightly, ‘The new apricot silk you ordered arrived this morning, and I know just the design I would like to make for you …’
An hour later the ladies were on their way back to Royal Crescent, a number of packages on the seat beside them and the prospect of more new gowns to follow.
‘I must say, I never thought charity would be so pleasurable,’ declared Kate, smiling. ‘Your idea of setting the girls up in their own establishment was a very good one, Susannah.’
‘I merely made use of Olive’s talent for sewing. She has such a shrewd eye for design, too.’
‘But it is unlikely she would have succeeded alone, and with a young baby to support.’ Kate reached out and squeezed her arm. ‘You should be very proud of yourself, my dear.’
‘I am very proud of my ladies,’ replied Susannah. ‘I have merely provided the means. It is their hard work that is making it such a success.’
‘If only the starched matrons of Bath knew that their gowns were being made by unmarried mothers they might not be so keen to patronise Odesse.’
‘I do not think they care who makes their clothes as long as they are fashionable and a good price,’ retorted Susannah. ‘Florence House, however, is a different matter. News of that establishment will scandalise the sober matrons, so I hope we can keep it a secret, at least until I have control of my fortune and can support it without the aid of Aunt Maude’s card parties.’
Winter would not release its grip and when Jasper rose at his usual early hour the following morning, there was a hint of frost glistening on the Bath rooftops. He decided to take a long walk before breakfast. Enquiries of the waiter in the near-empty coffee room elicited the information that the view from Beechen Cliff was well worth the effort, so he set out, heading south through streets where only the tradespeople were yet in evidence. Striding out, he soon came to the quay and the bridge that took him across the river, and he could begin the climb to Beechen Cliff.
When he reached the heights he considered himself well rewarded. Looking north, Bath was spread out in all its glory below him. Smoke was beginning to rise from the chimneys of the honey-coloured terraces but it was not yet sufficient to cloud his view and his gaze moved past the Abbey until it reached the sweeping curve of the Royal Crescent. Immediately his thoughts turned to Miss Prentess and Gerald. If it wasn’t for those damned card parties he would be inclined to tell Gloriana to give Gerald her blessing and let nature take its course. After all, the lady had refused him once. He would wager that if he was left alone, Gerald would recover from his infatuation and settle down with a suitable young bride in a year or so.
But it was Susannah Prentess who set the alarm bells ringing in his head. Why did a rich young woman need to engage in card parties to raise money? If she was looking for a brilliant match then why was she not in London? With her good looks and her fortune there were plenty of eligible bachelors who would be eager to win her hand. Clearly there was something more to the lady than met the eye, and he was determined to discover it.
The icy wind cut his cheeks, reminding him of his exposed position and a sudden hunger made him eager for his breakfast. Jasper set off on the return journey at a good pace. The streets were busier now with a constant stream of carts and wagons making their way across the bridge. He heard the jingle of harness behind him and looked round. The equipage was quite the smartest to pass him that morning and clearly a private carriage, although there was no liveried footman standing on the back. The sun’s reflection from the river shone through the carriage window and illuminated the interior so that Jasper could see its occupant quite clearly. There could be no mistaking Susannah Prentess’s perfect profile, nor the guinea-gold curls peeping out beneath her silk bonnet. Jasper raised his hat but even as he did so he knew she had not seen him. The lady appeared to be deep in thought. However, Jasper had to own that to see her out and about so early in the day, when most of her kind would be still at their dressing table, did her no disservice in his eyes. His spirits, lifted by the exercise, rose a little higher, and he found himself looking forward to the forthcoming visit to Royal Crescent.
‘Ah, my lord, Mr Barnabus, I am so pleased you could join us.’
Mrs Wilby came forwards as the butler ushered them into the drawing room. There were already a dozen or so people present, grouped around little tables, the same ones that had been used for cards, but they now held nothing more exciting than teacups. Gerald immediately headed for Susannah, who was sitting near the fireplace, dispensing tea. Jasper would have followed, but Mrs Wilby, conscious of her duties as a hostess, gently drew him aside, intent upon introductions. The stares and whispers that had greeted his entrance made it clear that the appearance of a viscount was an occurrence of rare importance. It was therefore some time before he was free to approach Susannah.
Gerald