“You’ve my eternal gratitude for keeping them out of sight this long,” Cate said.
Mrs. Clifford led us to the back table, where she produced a thick packet of parchment. “You simply won’t believe what they’re doing in Paris this fall.” Taking out one of the papers, she spread it open on the table. “Just look at these block pleats. I never thought I’d see the day.”
We stayed at the dress shop for two hours while Cate and Mrs. Clifford pored over the patterns. Their excitement for the newest designs was contagious and before long both Liza and Johnny joined us at the table. Mrs. Clifford offered no objection and Cate went so far as to request their opinions on the various gowns she was considering. They all seemed very comfortable together, with no overt consideration for age or rank.
While Cate finalized her order, I wandered over to the accessories wall in search of a ribbon to match one of my new gowns from Henry. Liza followed, taking her place on the opposite side of the counter.
“Would you like me to cut something for you, miss?” she asked.
“A yard of that pale blue there.” I pointed the best I could at the display.
“This one?” she asked. I nodded and she took it from the shelf. Pulling the ribbon along a measuring stick, she snipped it off at the yard mark.
“You seem very comfortable with Lady Dinley,” I said. “How long have you known her?”
“All my life, miss. Her ladyship brought me into the world ten years ago.”
“Lady Dinley was your midwife?” I asked, sure that I must have misunderstood.
“Yes, miss. She’s birthed a lot of us children from the rookeries.”
“But Lady Dinley can’t be more than one and twenty. She couldn’t have been birthing babies at only eleven years old.” I had been fourteen before acting as full midwife, and even that was an uncommonly young age for something so fraught with danger.
Liza gave me a curious look. “To be honest, miss, I’ve never given much thought to her age, but I do promise that Lady Dinley’s was the first face I ever saw in this world. When my mama died two years later, her ladyship took me on as a ward.” She handed me the ribbon. “Would you like another color? I think this green would be very pretty against your skin.”
I nodded, temporarily at a loss for words.
With the ribbons tucked into my pocket, I followed Cate out of the shop and into the carriage. The new gowns had put her in high spirits, so much that most of the trip to the metal smith was filled with her lively chatter regarding Parisian and English fashion. I was the most attentive listener, my eyes fixed on her face as I studied its every line and feature. Her skin was flawless, perfectly smooth and undeniably youthful. Until speaking to Liza, I would have sworn an oath that she was only three years my senior. Five at the very most.
Propriety alone kept me from asking outright about her age. Fortunately, there was another subject I found of equal interest, and with a little luck would inevitably satisfy my curiosity on both fronts. At the first lull in the conversation, I pushed ahead.
“Liza told me that you’re a midwife.”
Cate gave me one of her smiles. “Liza has always been one to exaggerate my abilities. I’ve learned a trick or two over the years and try to do what I can to help. Mostly it’s the poorest of the poor who seek me out, those who can’t afford to pay to have their babies delivered.” She looked at me, her own curiosity evident. “Henry mentioned that you were a healer in the Colonies. Did you ever serve as a midwife?”
“More times than I can count. My mother was a midwife and trained me before she died.” I chose my next words carefully. “I was fourteen the first time I ever attended a woman on my own. From what Liza said, you must have been even younger.”
“Far too young,” she readily agreed. “Not yet ten years and so scared I nearly blundered the whole thing. By the time the real midwife arrived, I was holding a screaming baby boy and swearing on everything sacred to never get with child myself.” Cate laughed, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Nature has a way of making us forget such promises.”
Her age was forgotten by what sounded to be an admission of motherhood. I hadn’t even suspected the possibility and was just trying to wrap my head around the notion when the carriage came to a stop.