LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Six

      In the dim morning light, Susannah peered around her new home. More than a home. This was their hope for the future.

      There was nothing more to do, at least when it came to scrubbing and cleaning the place. Even their living quarters upstairs had been scoured—the wood floors sanded, cobwebs swept away, the iron bedsteads freshly painted white. The cheerful quilts that all three girls had pieced on rainy afternoons now graced the beds, and Becky had whipped up a pair of pink calico curtains for their dormer window. Downstairs, in the shop area, the girls had created an attractive window display, framed by Becky’s gossamer muslin curtains.

      Nan had really outdone herself this time. A collection of their finest hats was arranged in artful pageantry, all on hat stands of varying height. Nan had woven ribbons above the display in a bright, colorful web. From outside the store, one was drawn in by the promise of beauty.

      Now, if only the customers would come.

      Susannah had painted a sign herself, in graceful script, proclaiming Siddons Sisters Millinery. The sign was simply too heavy for her to hang, so it leaned against the front wall, beneath the window. Perhaps she could hire a couple of lads in the village, sturdy boys who could scramble up on the roof and hang the sign properly. Until then, this would have to do.

      She opened the door, letting the fresh air in. “Girls!” she called. “Do hurry, I’m opening the store.”

      “There won’t be a mad rush.” Nan yawned, traipsing down the stairs. “It’s bound to be slow at first.”

      “Even so, we must appear professional. No dawdling.” She surveyed Nan and Becky as they presented themselves for review. The sisters had agreed to wearing matching dresses in dark blue, with starched white aprons. Susannah and Becky had wound their hair up into chignons, while Nan’s dark locks flowed in ringlets down her back.

      “I think we look quite nice,” Susannah offered cautiously. “Now, do we all have tasks to perform for today? We don’t want to fall idle and daydream the morning away if we don’t have customers.”

      “I shall be embroidering a white grosgrain ribbon with cherry blossoms. And Nan is going to work on tatting lace. If we work ahead on trimmings, then we shall have them ready when a new order comes in.” Becky smoothed her apron and smiled.

      “Very good. And I shall work on making a new poke bonnet in nice autumnal shades. I think we have our best opportunity of attracting new customers by opening as we are, on Saturday. If I recall correctly, this is the busiest day of the week in the village.” Her memories of Tansley had faded. After all, she left the village when she was still a lass of fifteen. But Mama and Papa walked into the village every Saturday to do the little bit of marketing they needed. And it was always cause for a great occasion.

      She settled onto a low stool by the rough wooden table, wrapping brown taffeta over the bonnet frame. Her hands trembled. She must not expect to see any customers today. Building a successful store would take time. And she mustn’t let her sisters see how very nervous she was. Since Mama died, it was her duty to make sure the girls remained sheltered and protected. Even under the direst of circumstances, she could not contribute in any way to making them feel uncertain or afraid.

      The taffeta slid easily through the bonnet frame, soothing her ruffled spirit. Having an occupation was a good thing. It kept her mind from wandering too far. If she allowed those thoughts of possible failure to flow through her, she would accomplish nothing. Willing her fingers to cease their trembling, she threaded a needle and started the arduous task of placing tiny, even stitches under the brim to hold the taffeta in place.

      She would be a rock for Becky and Nan, just as she’d always been.

      But all the same, ʼtwould be nice to have someone she could talk to, and to share her fears with.

      A light footstep sounded on the threshold. “Look at this!” a cultured, sweet voice remarked. “A proper millinery here, in Tansley.”

      Susannah glanced up, her heart beating fast. A slight, pretty young lady stood in the doorway, a delighted expression on her face. Behind her, two other ladies peered in through the shop window. Well-dressed ladies, ladies who—judging by appearances only, of course—might be gentlewomen.

      Susannah rose, her knees quaking so badly she hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. Gracious, one couldn’t very well fall flat on the floor before her very first customers. She must compose herself. Susannah offered a slight smile—the best she could under such trying circumstances.

      “Yes, ma’am. We’ve just opened. Won’t you come in.” Her voice sounded as wobbly as an old cart-wheel, and she cleared her throat.

      “I should say so. Annabella! Evangeline! Do come in!” The lady turned to her companions. “It’s the loveliest little shop I’ve seen—thought at first I had imagined it.”

      Her companions scurried in, giggling. “Oh, Eliza! Isn’t it marvelous?” One of the ladies—Evangeline? Or Annabella? At any rate, the blonde one wearing her hair in stylish ringlets—clapped her gloved hands in rapture. “Now we don’t have to wait to go to Town for new bonnets.”

      “I’ll take the blue satin one in the window,” Eliza’s other companion, a regal brunette, stated flatly. “Do you have more ready-made than is in your display?”

      Susannah paused. They had crafted very few bonnets—she’d wanted to earn more money before whipping up a dozen or so to have ready for purchase in the shop. The supplies were expensive, after all. But stating that to these fine ladies might make her shop seem small and cheap indeed.

      “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but you see our bonnets are made to specification. We work to make sure that each one is suited to the wearer and is a perfect match not just for her clothing but for her features, as well. So, you see, we do not have much stock ready-made.”

      Nan and Becky looked up from their work, their dark eyes reflecting merriment and respect as Susannah made her bold pronouncement. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? Because the thought of a bespoke milliner in a sleepy village was patently absurd. But that was before her first customers proved to be gentlewomen.

      ’Twas a daring move, to be certain. She clutched the half-finished bonnet to her bosom. Surely those fine gentlewomen could hear her heart pounding like a big bass drum.

      “Delightful! So we could order anything we want, and to match our gowns.” Eliza waved a hand airily about the room. “I am working on my winter wardrobe with my seamstress, Anne. I should like to have you come up to the house and see what she has planned in the

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