Page 15 of The Gentlewoman Apprentice

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

She threw her hands into the air, then leaned toward him. Not a wise move, for now her amber, infuriated eyes lay available for his further distraction. Her presence brought enough disruption without his acknowledging her loveliness.

“Mrs. Gainsworth asked that I assist you.”

“And you have. Thank you for your work with the embroidery this week, but I will take it from here, and when she next arrives, you will inform me.” He walked away.

She stomped her foot, which tempted him to glance at her fiery anger. He had saved himself from one source of difficulty and resigned himself to another, for Miss Cooper was trouble no matter what he did.

He entered the measuring room. “Good afternoon, Jane. Or do you wish me to call you Mrs. Gainsworth?”

“Jane, of course. We are friends, though I have moved up in the world.” She preened at her reflection.

“Yes, though you slight me as a tailor.”

“Do not be offended. I simply believe dressmaking belongs to women.”

Peter hoped she did not spread that belief. “Let me look at Miss Cooper’s work.”

“Where is she?”

“Miss Cooper? She has other work to attend to.”

“I prefer she remain with us.”

He measured women every day, a scientific methodical practice that never took his imagination where it should not go.

“Why?” he asked.

“She is to be my dressmaker, so I wish to help her along.” Mrs. Gainsworth must have seen something in Peter’s face, for she added, “Never fear. If you do well, the livery for my servants will aways be yours.”

His insides sagged. Servants typically received two suits of livery each year—not an insubstantial request—but the gown was worth as much as one fleet livery. A year’s worth of Mrs. Gainsworth’s wardrobe, besides being a far more interesting commission, valued far higher. Still, he could not refuse the direct request and left to fetch Miss Cooper.

“Mrs. Gainsworth asks for your company.”

She looked up at him, gold eyes flashing in a ray of light, her mouth pressing into a small smile. “I will be pleased to join you.” She stood and lifted her pert chin. “You seem unaware of how overtaxed you are, Mr. Sloan. If you permit, I could help a great deal.”

Heaven spare him that curse. She could not understand the pressures that weighed upon him, and he did not want a reminder of everything he did poorly. “It would not be fair to the other apprentices.”

She scoffed. “That is mere excuse. You would all benefit from my assistance.”

The smugness. No matter that she had a point. He smiled and stepped into the challenge. “You could do better?”

Her chin lifted. “I could. For starters⁠—”

He put up his hand.

“Why don’t you teach me?” Her tone had lost its edge. When he didn’t respond, she said, “You are easy with your smiles but never say what you think.” She spun on her heel and entered the measuring room.

No one questioned her competence. Miss Cooper had found additional needlewomen who finished embroidering Mrs. Gainsworth’s silk in record time, attesting to her ability to procure extra hands and motivate them. But the guild forcefully opposed any meaningful instruction, and he felt a grudging obligation to respect their wishes. The guild snubbed him at times, but without them he never would have been able to keep his father’s tailoring business alive. That was another place where his duties held him bound. He must take care of what the elder Mr. Sloan could not. Sloan Tailoring mustn’t fail.

He might empathize more with Miss Cooper’s feelings at being scorned by the guild, take her on as a true apprentice to spite them, if not for the recurring vision of her shop. The image of it, opened for business and flooded with female customers, dampened his good will. She would poach clients like Mrs. Gainsworth on whom he relied to build upon the efforts of his forefathers.

“Are you alright, sir?” Arnold, holding a hot iron in each hand, addressed him.

Peter found himself motionless in the middle of the workroom and forced a laugh. “Excuse me. Lost in thought.” He found Mrs. Gainsworth standing on a block with her arms spread as Miss Cooper pinned the loose fabric into sleeves. He released a tight breath.

“…above the elbow with a train of double ruffles,” said Mrs. Gainsworth. “Or do you think a pleated cuff would be better?”