13 - Outfits

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"I think you're ready," Patrick said.

Catriona looked up from her sewing book, internally admitting that she wasn't focusing on it anyways.

"Ready for what?" she asked.

Patrick slid into the chair next to her, folding his fingers in excitement.

"To make your first sale," he replied. "You've completed all your training in record time, with the highest marks."

Catriona gave an amused laugh. "Were there other students under your wing?"

"None as fascinating as you, I assure you. In celebration, I think we should go out on the town. I'll take you to a favorite place of mine."

He tapped the table to signal his exit, then stood and made his way to the kitchen. Catriona closed her book and tucked it under her arm. Mrs. Greene had given her the book to improve her seamstressing, but Patrick also had given Catriona a list of things for her to study and that took up most of her time. She couldn't even focus on the sewing book by the time she opened it.

She headed to her shared room, flopping the book on her bed and checking her closet. It was still bare despite the new outfits Patrick had bought her, and Catriona couldn't help but wonder what Rose's closet might have looked like. Rose has the perfect balance of style and expression in her clothes; and while Catriona's new items were beautiful and professional, none of them felt like her. It felt like she was wearing someone else's clothes, passing herself off as a woman of sophistication and elegance when she was neither.

She wanted clothes that were hers. Ones that felt like her own second skin, that expressed her desire for color, elegance, and confidence.

But nothing in her closet expressed such a thing, except for the fabrics sitting on the floor below her hangers; piles of colors and patterns that ached to be designed into something of beauty. The problem was, Catriona didn't know how to do such a thing.

"Going out with Patrick again?"

Catriona turned to see one of her roommates, Ruth, who was in charge of the gardens. Ruth removed her straw hat and fanned her roughened, reddened cheeks, sitting on her bed across from Catriona's as she recovered from the summer afternoon sun.

"He's a charmer, that one," Ruth continued. "I think if I was younger, I'd be flattered by him as well. It's easy to get swept up in his talk of the finer things in life. It's a shame he never earned any of the things he talks about."

Catriona chewed her lip, Ruth's statement refusing to settle in her stomach.

"I don't think it's wise to gossip," Catriona finally said, pulling out one of her finer dresses.

She felt a bit stronger for saying it. It was true, after all. Yes, that statement felt right to say.

Ruth didn't hesitate to object, however.

"Not gossip, child, but a warning," she said. "A beautiful girl as yourself is such a target for men like that –"

"Because I'm an idiot?"

Ruth stopped at Catriona's words. Catriona was shocked to hear them come from her own mouth, but the gates had opened, and it was too painful to keep her words in her chest anymore.

"That's what everyone thinks of me, anyhow," Catriona continued. "I'm not surprised you think it, too."

Catriona laid her outfit on the chair, stripping down to change.

Ruth took a wise breath. "Not a soul has called you such a thing, child."

"They think it."

"You're an honest worker, Catriona," Ruth continued, getting to her feet to look Catriona empathetically in the eye. "Don't let the dishonest ones tempt you with a life of fortune that will ruin you."

Catriona pulled her dress over her head, straightening it out over her hips.

"And perhaps if you knew anything about fortune, you wouldn't have the life you have now."

Ruth seemed too stunned to speak at first, taking a step back. As the silence between them stretched, Catriona realized her words hadn't felt right at all. They were bold. They were perhaps true. But they didn't feel as powerful as the ones she had said before.

"Well," Ruth said, her tone calm, but her face turning red. "If that's the life you want for yourself, Catriona, then so be it. Don't let an old, broke fool stand in your way.

Ruth marched out of the room, the slam of the door as it flew open an indication of her true feelings. Catriona stared at the ajar door in the mirror. The longer the doorway remained open and empty, the more her own words twisted in her stomach.

A shadow then revealed itself. Catriona reached up to close the neck of her dress with her fist as she saw it. She turned to the door, her eye catching the edge of Nathaniel Griffin's suit as it slid past, the faint sound of his shoes fading away on the other side of the wall.

Then there was silence. Catriona turned back to the mirror, looking at the fine dress she was wearing and wondering who her words were actually for. 


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Sorry this chapter is late. I kept reworking it, but I'm still not completely satisfied with the result.  

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