Ives had reserved the upper two floors of the structure as his own private living quarters, leaving the ground level to be utilized solely for his haute couture . As Jeff further expounded, Farrell normally employed eight people, the most important being a young widow, Elizabeth Dalton, who was solely responsible for making the patterns for the new designs and supervising the seamstresses. She assisted her employer in managing the shop and had many other duties that verified her importance.
As a rule, Ives’s Couture staffed six other seamstresses and a strapping youth who took care of the cleaning chores when he wasn’t fetching and toting. In spite of the limited personnel, the shop supplied most of the haut monde and style-conscious ladies in the Charleston area with stunning wardrobes for the changing seasons as well as modish frocks and lavish gowns any time of the year. Dainty accouterments were also readily available on the premises and didn’t need to be ordered unless a customer had something specific or extravagant in mind.
Jeff ushered Raelynn to a cozily furnished sitting area located near the entrance of a pair of spacious hallways. Long tables, laden with beautiful fabrics in different textures, colors, patterns, and weight, were angled against the walls of both. The smaller corridor provided offices near the front for the employer and his assistant. Behind these were cubicles for fittings. Private sewing rooms for the seamstresses divided the larger hall, at the end of which was a large window of small-paned glass that framed a carefully tended garden. A nearby passageway led to the back door and, off to the side, a stairway supplied access to the upper stories.
Through the doors of the nearest two seamstresses’ rooms, Raelynn espied two dummy forms bedecked in fashionable gowns of breathtaking beauty, readily evidencing the talent of the couturier. At the entrance of the last cubicle, a tall, dark-haired woman, of about a score and five, stood talking with its occupant who remained hidden from view. Upon espying the new arrivals, the brunette quickly made her excuses and, with an ebullient smile, hastened forward to greet them.
“Mr. Birmingham, how good it is to see you again,” she averred in mellifluous tones. Her dark eyes fairly glowed with a brilliance that matched her smile. But then, with an openly gracious manner and a beauty charmingly enhanced by a pale yellow empire gown, she truly seemed imbued with a radiance of her own.
“Elizabeth, you’re looking as enchanting as always,” Jeff declared, with debonair flair sweeping his hat before his chest and clicking his heels in a concise bow. His own broad grin evidenced his unquenchable pride as he slipped a hand behind his wife’s back and made the introductions. “May I present my bride, Raelynn. My dear, this is Mrs. Elizabeth Dalton. She manages the shop for Farrell with the greatest of ease.”
At such praise, Elizabeth softly hooted and banished his claims with a graceful wave of a slender hand before facing Raelynn. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, Mrs. Birmingham. Mr. Ives has literally been singing your praises ever since the happening outside our shop.”
Raelynn’s pained smile evidenced her chagrin. “Oh, dear, I was in hopes that no one would remember that, but I suppose my expectations were a bit farfetched, considering the number of people who collected around us that day.”
Elizabeth tossed her head in amusement and laughed. “When there’s a member of the Birmingham clan involved, my dear, you can be fairly certain that he’ll reap a goodly share of attention from Charlestonians. Still, when a lady has been bequeathed with your fine looks, Mrs. Birmingham, you needn’t bear the name of a prominent family to gain everyone’s notice. ‘Twill surely be yours wherever you go.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dalton,” Raelynn replied with a gracious smile. “You’re very kind indeed. And may I say how pleased I am
As a rule, Ives’s Couture staffed six other seamstresses and a strapping youth who took care of the cleaning chores when he wasn’t fetching and toting. In spite of the limited personnel, the shop supplied most of the haut monde and style-conscious ladies in the Charleston area with stunning wardrobes for the changing seasons as well as modish frocks and lavish gowns any time of the year. Dainty accouterments were also readily available on the premises and didn’t need to be ordered unless a customer had something specific or extravagant in mind.
Jeff ushered Raelynn to a cozily furnished sitting area located near the entrance of a pair of spacious hallways. Long tables, laden with beautiful fabrics in different textures, colors, patterns, and weight, were angled against the walls of both. The smaller corridor provided offices near the front for the employer and his assistant. Behind these were cubicles for fittings. Private sewing rooms for the seamstresses divided the larger hall, at the end of which was a large window of small-paned glass that framed a carefully tended garden. A nearby passageway led to the back door and, off to the side, a stairway supplied access to the upper stories.
Through the doors of the nearest two seamstresses’ rooms, Raelynn espied two dummy forms bedecked in fashionable gowns of breathtaking beauty, readily evidencing the talent of the couturier. At the entrance of the last cubicle, a tall, dark-haired woman, of about a score and five, stood talking with its occupant who remained hidden from view. Upon espying the new arrivals, the brunette quickly made her excuses and, with an ebullient smile, hastened forward to greet them.
“Mr. Birmingham, how good it is to see you again,” she averred in mellifluous tones. Her dark eyes fairly glowed with a brilliance that matched her smile. But then, with an openly gracious manner and a beauty charmingly enhanced by a pale yellow empire gown, she truly seemed imbued with a radiance of her own.
“Elizabeth, you’re looking as enchanting as always,” Jeff declared, with debonair flair sweeping his hat before his chest and clicking his heels in a concise bow. His own broad grin evidenced his unquenchable pride as he slipped a hand behind his wife’s back and made the introductions. “May I present my bride, Raelynn. My dear, this is Mrs. Elizabeth Dalton. She manages the shop for Farrell with the greatest of ease.”
At such praise, Elizabeth softly hooted and banished his claims with a graceful wave of a slender hand before facing Raelynn. “I’m thrilled to finally meet you, Mrs. Birmingham. Mr. Ives has literally been singing your praises ever since the happening outside our shop.”
Raelynn’s pained smile evidenced her chagrin. “Oh, dear, I was in hopes that no one would remember that, but I suppose my expectations were a bit farfetched, considering the number of people who collected around us that day.”
Elizabeth tossed her head in amusement and laughed. “When there’s a member of the Birmingham clan involved, my dear, you can be fairly certain that he’ll reap a goodly share of attention from Charlestonians. Still, when a lady has been bequeathed with your fine looks, Mrs. Birmingham, you needn’t bear the name of a prominent family to gain everyone’s notice. ‘Twill surely be yours wherever you go.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Dalton,” Raelynn replied with a gracious smile. “You’re very kind indeed. And may I say how pleased I am
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