Page 78 of The Gentlewoman Apprentice

“I broke our contract. I used my time in your shop to steal your female customers, showing them my stores of fabric and promising to create the most beautiful gowns with them. I convinced Giles to work with me, and he agreed. As you are aware, I’ve kept your books and can assure you that your business is decreasing. While I did not intend that outcome, I admit the idea of taking all your customers occurred to me and was not distasteful.” She pursed her lips and swallowed.

Her sails unfurled, she steered toward deeper waters. A panicked flutter pushed against his ribs. If she understood who he was to her, all would come to rights. “I have seen the ledgers and my declining business. It is my own fault, my own distraction that made the difference.”

“Yes, but I have made it worse with my illicit business. Examine them again to see the truth of what I’m telling you. I apologize for all the harm I’ve caused you, but I cannot repent my behavior, as it seemed my one path to success. Our indenture is void, and I will not pretend I have not deceived you any longer.” She spun on her heel and marched toward the door.

“Wait.” He craved a response to the one thing that was most important. “I am your valentine.” He ran to the bundle of chintz he had prepared, stuffed his confession into its folds, and went after her.

The door slammed. He flung it open. “Margaret. Meg.” She turned, and he bound toward her. “Take this.” She hugged it to her chest, pausing to look at him. He stepped toward her, but she turned away, ran across the street, and disappeared into her house.

In a strange lightness, Peter returned home and collapsed onto the sofa. She had left without acknowledging the other side to their relationship—rejected him. The reality of her confession began to settle upon him. A betrayal. Sloan Tailoring dwindled because of her.

He was under no illusion of how poorly he had managed his shop over the years. The decrease in business, while partially due to Margaret, had been happening since his father’s illness. He did not believe Sloan Tailoring would cease to exist because of Margaret’s dress shop. He turned over the letter addressed to him and found the seal broken. It was dated in April, but now July had nearly concluded.

Dear Mr. Sloan,

You will no doubt be pleased to learn that we have received information which allows the termination of Miss Cooper’s indenture. Your female apprentice is no gentlewoman, having broken the contract on multiple fronts. She profits from her apprenticeship, wooing away your customers. The apprenticeship is hereby terminated. We advise you to dispatch her from your premises immediately. Should you wish to bring a complaint before the magistrate…

Understanding withered the hope that sweet and wholesome feelings were growing between himself and Margaret. He crumpled the letter, his breath pushing against something thick and bitter. He loved her and she had deceived him. A fierce ache burned in his chest. Grief and anger naked, fierce, and unyielding, twisting behind his eyes and pulling at the depths of his middle. He bent over, feeling that if he straightened, something would break.

She’d made a fool of his generosity. With what joy and pride had he watched her skill grow, ignorant that she was working entirely against him. He’d known she’d leave him at some point and start her dress shop but had not guessed she orchestrated with such deliberation against his interests. Had she kept the letter until all stood ready, until she could position herself as a dressmaker and, with Giles, steal the business of tailoring as well?

But she cared for him. He knew this, felt it as surely as he understood the combination of elements that created perfect red. Her kiss had not been a lie. Or had it been part of the ruse? He could not bear to think so ill of her.

If she’d been honest sooner, he would have done everything to ensure her success. For months now, he’d felt her triumphs as keenly as his own. When her shop opened, he would have sent every woman in search of a gown to her though it put a hole in his pocket. In truth, she had poached from him, not confided in him.

Well, she had confided in him, in letter after letter. Had she known he was her valentine? Her letters implied she cared for him. Were her words part of the deceit? Her actions all seemed laced with duplicity.

He must speak with someone, for he could not see clearly. Who was Miss Cooper, the traitor? And who was Margaret, the woman he loved?

“You knew?” Peter ran his hand through his hair, then rested his elbows on his knees. He’d gone to the Ivy home wishing to discuss the problem but found no comfort in Lucius’s tale.

“Charlotte discovered the truth of it and informed the guild. I didn’t like it, but she made me promise not to tell you. She insisted that once the guild let both of you know the truth, you could deal with the matter as you saw best.”

Peter sighed. “If she’d told me, I could have discussed it with Miss Cooper before everything fell apart.”

“You’ll have to take that up with Charlotte. But I believe Miss Cooper is to blame for worsening matters.”

Peter opened his mouth to combat the words against his love but found nothing to refute them. “What do I do?”

“I doubt Sloan Tailoring is in danger of closing, but if it is, you have a place with me.”

“I mean about Margaret. Lucius, I’m in love with her.”

Lucius drew a sharp breath. “You’d better think hard about that statement. Can you trust her?”

“I don’t know.”

“I am sorry, old chap.” Lucius’s brows grew heavy. “Perhaps I should have spoken to you when I found out her falsehood. I thought you’d work it out. She’s spirited, determined. I assumed she had good reason for what she did.”

Peter held his head. “I cannot understand what that reason might be. Do you think she guessed her valentine’s identity and used the letters to her advantage?”

Lucius lifted a shoulder. “In light of everything, I cannot say it would surprise me. In hindsight, her actions appear designing and opportunistic.”

The painful coil that wrapped Peter’s insides lost its sharp edges, becoming heavy and fixed. His hopeful grasp slipped as he shifted from shock to sorrow, from fear to certainty.

Peter left Lucius and ambled the streets without seeing whom or what he passed. Afternoon faded into evening, his feet and hands growing cold. He returned home to stare at the wall.

He understood her ambition and determination but had not known the lengths she would reach to meet her goal. And her secrecy was for naught. Had he known what she was about, knew why she acted in such a manner, he would have supported her.