Free Carousel by Barbara Baldwin

going a hundred miles an hour, as usual. Molly was supposed to be watching her because Saturday was Jaci's day off, but that never stopped Amanda from seeking her out. Besides, what did Jaci have to do on a day off, anyway?
    "Mrs. Sullivan is here and you must see what she has. Trunks and trunks of the most marvelous stuff," Amanda practically shouted right in Jaci's ear as she scooted to a stop in front of her.
    She had to grin at the child's incongruous use of the phrase marvelous stuff. For a five-year-old, she had an excellent grasp of the English language, probably from all the adults in the house talking to her all the time. Every once in a while, she would latch on to a word and use it in almost every sentence, sometimes regardless of whether it actually belonged there. Thus was the case for the word marvelous.
    "Well, what is all this wonderful treasure, and who is Mrs. Sullivan?" she questioned with a smile, for Amanda's good humor was always contagious.
    "Mrs. Sullivan is a seamstress from the city," Molly answered, having followed Amanda into the kitchen. "She says that Mister Westbrooke requested her presence to see to your wardrobe." Molly puckered her lips and fluttered her eyelashes, and Amanda burst out laughing. Jaci knew Molly teased, but was also implying there must be something going on between herself and the owner of Wildwood. Why else would he order clothes made for her?
    She rose quickly from her seat. "I didn't ask for clothes, and I don't see that I need anything until I can afford it." She said this more for the servants' benefit than her own. She could use some dresses that fit better, but she didn't know how she would pay for them.
    "You can't send her back. Uncle Nicholas wouldn't like it very much at all." Amanda pulled on her skirt trying to get her attention, but Jaci had already made up her mind.
    "There are some things over which your uncle should have no say." Leaving Molly and Delta with their mouths hanging open and Amanda propped on the huge wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, Jaci left to find the master of the house and give him a piece of her mind.
     
    * * *
     
    Two hours later, she had been poked and pinched and measured and embarrassed until she could take no more. Amanda giggled in delight, sitting in the middle of the bed surrounded by yards of ribbon, satins and lace. Molly smugly helped with whatever Mrs. Sullivan requested of her.
    Obviously, she had lost the argument with Nicholas and still fumed at his high handed attitude. She hadn't liked being called a responsibility, even if she was. And while he had refused to even discuss the cost, Jaci swore to herself she would pay back every cent. Now, as she surveyed the sea of colored cloth over every conceivable object in her room, she wondered how many years that would take.
    "Honestly, Mrs. Sullivan, I don't need this many clothes." She tried to step down from the footstool, but the seamstress would not tolerate it.
    "Nonsense, my dear. Every young lady needs at least this many and more." She had already measured Jaci and draped a variety of materials around her, trying for the right color combinations and trims. The pile of patterns she had chosen lay scattered at her feet.
    The matronly woman had explained as she stripped Jaci to the bare essentials that her wardrobe would be made back in the shop because with the new sewing machines, it could be done in half the time of having Molly sew by hand. However, she had brought a few ready-mades with her, and after trying them first and making minor adjustments, handed them over to her assistant to alter on the spot.
    "The more delicate undergarments, of course, will still be sewn by hand," Mrs. Sullivan assured her as she continued pinning fabric at her shoulders. "And the corsets, of course, will--"
    "No corset!" Jaci hadn't won her argument with Nicholas, but surely she could overrule this woman.
    "My dear, you have a well-developed bust, a tapering waist and large hips,