The Abandoned Duchess Seems to Want a Peaceful Life - Chapter 147

Chapter 147: The Seamstress Who Works Away From Home

Jeanne glanced up at the sound of a bird chirping, “pitchi-pitchi.”

The early summer sunlight streaming through the open window was dazzling, causing a slight ache in her eyes, which had been focused on her work.

She realized the sun had climbed high in the sky. A delicious smell drifted in from beyond the window, stimulating her hunger.

Before moving to Enkar Village, two meals a day, morning and evening, had been the norm. However, she had become accustomed to three meals a day thanks to the villagers’ gifts and the various food smells at lunchtime.

It had been almost three months since she and her daughter moved to this village at the northern edge of the country. It had been barely springtime, the time when the snow might just melt, but now the sky was a clear summer blue.

“Mama! I’m hungry!”

As Jeanne stood up to prepare lunch, interrupting her work, her daughter, Jill, returned. She had apparently been playing with the neighborhood children, her lovely cheeks flushed crimson like apples.

“I’ll get it ready soon. Go wash your hands. And would you please fetch some water from the well?”

“Yes!”

The well, one of several installed in the village, wasn’t far from the house. It wasn’t too much of a burden for her seven-year-old daughter.

Jeanne smiled at her daughter’s cheerful, childlike voice.

Jeanne had worked as a seamstress for a noble family in the north. She had begun serving at the age of eight and worked for nine years before falling in love with a merchant who frequented the mansion. She married him and moved to Soarasonne, giving birth to her daughter, Jill.

Her husband was a traveling salesman employed by a large shop. He wasn’t incredibly wealthy, but he was a hard-working, dependable man who dreamed of one day becoming independent and owning a small shop of his own.

They had a happy life, though not wealthy, until her husband died of an epidemic when Jill was three.

After her husband’s passing, she worked as a seamstress for a tailor in the city to make a living. However, due to the famine that started last year, work drastically decreased, and eventually even mending work disappeared, leaving mother and daughter destitute and barely able to survive.

It was then that the wife of the master carpenter, who frequently commissioned mending work, suggested she try working in this village, prompting her to move.

The incredibly favorable conditions – transportation to the village and housing, along with living expenses for the first month – led her to verify the offer three times.

If she stayed in the capital, she and her daughter would likely starve and face a dire outcome. She had considered sending her daughter to work for a merchant’s household, but there were many parents with the same idea, and only positions resembling indentured servitude were available, leaving her at a loss.

She sold off her meager possessions, used the little money she had to feed her daughter, and boarded the carriage to the Enkar region.

As she stoked the embers to start a fire, she recalled how incredibly cold it had been that day.

Her terribly thin daughter was heartbreaking, so she had hugged her, putting her own coat over her. The carriage owner, likely feeling pity for Jeanne’s shivering, had let her sit in the most sheltered spot among the luggage.

“Mama, I got the water!”

“Thank you. Put it over there.”

This village’s well had a metal component Jeanne had never seen before. A lever could be raised and lowered, making it easy for women and children to draw water.

Jill, proudly showing off the shallow bucket of water she had fetched, had rosy cheeks and her usually dull brown eyes, clouded with hunger, now sparkled with light.

Black bread from the market and a chicken and vegetable salt soup comprised today’s lunch. While meat was rarely on the table when they lived in Soarasonne, the Enkar region was heavily focused on poultry farming, making meat and eggs affordable, allowing them to occasionally enjoy such meals.

“The children for the sewing lessons will be arriving soon, so you should join them.”

“But I promised to play with the village kids this afternoon too!”

“You’re old enough to start working now, so you need to learn how to sew properly.”

Jeanne’s slightly stern tone caused Jill to pout and reluctantly reply, “Yes.”

In this area, many children were free from household chores and labor, enjoying leisure. Even while Jeanne was sewing, she could often hear the sounds of children playing and running around outside the window.

In both cities and rural areas, children were a significant source of labor. Jeanne herself had been assigned a job at eight years old, leaving home at age nine.

She had heard it was a prosperous village, but she never imagined it to be this way.

After lunch and the cleanup, the sewing lesson students arrived with cheerful greetings.

While she had plenty of mending work, Jeanne’s main income was from these lessons.

Women came from this village and another slightly distant village four days a week to learn needlework. Most studied for about two hours once a week; however, a few women with a little more means would visit twice a week.

The students ranged in age from young girls to women around Jeanne’s mother’s age.

“Welcome. Today we will cover how to sew shirts and the finishing touches. Everyone, please sit down.”

Because she was expected to teach these lessons at home, the house provided was spacious enough to include a large table for Jeanne and Jill. Four women attended today, and Jill was sitting demurely on a small child’s chair in the corner, taking out her own small sewing box.

Unlike noble garments, commoner clothes are made using large patterns that don’t require individual measurements. They were generally slipped over the head, tied at the waist with cloth or a sash, and then a vest was worn over the top.

It wasn’t difficult work, but most of the women had never held a needle before, and often struggled to sew straight.

Seamstresses usually began as apprentices around eight years old, aiming to become fully skilled, but this group also included married women and those older than Jeanne, and they diligently attended the lessons, despite their lack of skill.

Seamstress work was usually done in all-female environments, often with unpleasant senior workers. When Jeanne was young, the loneliness of being away from home made the experience difficult.

Unlike indentured servitude, where children essentially just reduced the number of mouths to feed, everyone here was learning skills out of their own free will. Therefore, despite the similar needlework, the atmosphere was pleasant.

“Jill, what’s that?”

The youngest girl in the class noticed Jill working quietly in the corner of the room and peered at her handiwork.

“They’re covered buttons. The smaller ones are for clothes, and the larger ones are for decoration.”

“There are decorative buttons! They’re cute. Can I make some too?”

“It’s easy!”

Jill glanced at Jeanne.

The fabric was high-quality. Covered buttons are made using small scraps, but they are still valuable items.

“Jill, if you finish sewing the shirts and have time left, teach her.”

“Okay!”

Jill’s energetic response brightened the girl’s face, and she increased her sewing speed slightly.

Girls, in particular, enjoyed dressing up a little. They would add small embroideries with colored thread to their sleeves or gather the hems of their skirts, each enjoying their own small touch of fashion.

After Jill showed her how to make small covered buttons, the girl immediately sewed one onto the collar of her shirt.

“It’s very cute. It complements the clothes nicely.”

The covered buttons made from dyed fabric scraps were quite a nice accent. Seeing this, the other women also started making buttons after finishing their shirts.

Although their skills were somewhat clumsy, their bright eyes made Jeanne pretend not to notice that the day’s lesson was running slightly behind schedule.

As the sun began to set and the sewing students went home, Jeanne was taking a break when she received visitors.

Two women arrived. One had an orange dyed jacket over a white dress, far finer than anything the villagers wore; she also wore a fabric hat with a ribbon matching her jacket and a scarf fastened with a brooch at her chest. The other woman had elegant light blond hair and wore a navy blue dress. A large man, apparently a guard, stood behind them.

“I’m sorry for coming so suddenly. I was on an inspection nearby, and I had some time left, so I decided to stop by and see how things are.”

The young woman, clearly of noble birth, was not at all overbearing; her tone was polite and respectful.

“I am Melfina von Oldrand. I am the lord who governs this entire region.”

Jeanne was shocked and instinctively bowed deeply; it was an ingrained habit from her nearly ten years working for noble families.

“Please, relax. I heard from Village Chief Lutz that a seamstress had come here, so I thought I’d come and have a chat.”

“Yes, I am honored.”

“Is there anything inconvenient or troubling you?”

“You’ve provided a house for me and my daughter; the neighbors often give us gifts. The villagers are extremely kind to us.”

“That’s good to hear. There weren’t any professional seamstresses around here, so we’re very happy to have you.”

There was no hidden meaning in her kind words. Jeanne, having served in a noble household and seen visitors from afar, found this gentleness unfamiliar.

While captivated by the smiling woman’s golden hair and clear green eyes, Jeanne noticed a loose thread on the white fabric of her hat.

Noble households have dedicated dressmakers and seamstresses. Pointing out a loose thread might cause reprimands or even dismissal.

However, Jeanne couldn’t imagine the kindly woman who had asked about her troubles doing such a thing, and wearing a hat with a loose thread until she returned home somehow felt wrong.

“Excuse me, my Lady. There seems to be a loose thread on your hat. If you like, I can mend it.”

“Oh, the decoration must have come off in the wind, and it must have frayed then.”

As the lady reached for her hat, the woman beside her, likely a lady-in-waiting, quickly took it.

“Indeed, there is a slight fray. I apologize for not noticing.”

“I’ve been wearing it all day; it’s understandable that I didn’t notice. Um, Jeanne, can you fix it quickly?”

“If it’s just this, it’ll only take a few minutes.”

The decorative pin on the hat must have caught on the seam. With a few quick stitches of invisible thread, the fray was barely noticeable.

“It’s impolite to say this to a professional, but you’re really skilled. Can Jeanne perhaps make hats as well?”

“I can do a bit of everything. When I was in Soarasonne, I also did piecework making the bodies of hats.”

While elaborate decorations were done in hat workshops, the simpler bodies were often commissioned from seamstresses doing piecework.

Once you refused work, future requests would likely stop. Seamstresses who did piecework couldn’t survive without being versatile.

“Well, if you’re free, would you make a hat for me sometime? I want a light summer hat with a wide brim.”

“Of course, I can make that for you, but…are you sure it’s alright?”

For noblewomen, the elegance of a hat was a kind of symbol of social status. They were adorned with ribbons, lace, expensive beads, many brooches, and feathers to make them more conspicuous.

These were made by specialty hat shops in large cities because they required many expensive materials.

“Marie, some paper.”

“Here you are.”

At the lord’s request, a woman who seemed to be a lady-in-waiting quickly handed her paper and a pen. The paper didn’t seem to be parchment, and the pen was used to quickly sketch something without ink.

“I want a wide brim to shade my eyes. Heavy hats tire my neck, so minimal decoration, no ribbons or feathers. Colored thread embroidery would be nice.”

The sketch showed a wide, softly curved brim, a simple but practical design.

“Marie, why don’t you have one made too?”

“With pleasure.”

“Then, a different color for Marie’s – deep green or red would suit your hair color.”

“A light blue or green to match Melfina’s eye color would be nice.”

The two whispered together, more like close sisters than mistress and lady-in-waiting.

“It will take some time, as we need to source the fabric, but if that’s alright…”

“Of course, that’s fine. It’s still a while until midsummer, so no need to rush.”

Marie, the lady-in-waiting, took the mended hat, gently placed it on the lord’s head, and carefully adjusted its position.

“If you have any troubles or worries, please consult the village chief. I’m looking forward to seeing the finished hat.”

“I’m honored. I will do my very best.”

The lord smiled lightly and said goodbye to Jill before leaving.

“Sister, she was beautiful.”

“Yes, she was.”

She was a typical noblewoman, beautiful beyond belief. A hat with lace, feathers, and glittering beads would suit her far better than a simple one.

Yet, she said she was looking forward to the hat Jeanne would make.

Looking at the lord, Jeanne felt she finally understood why this territory was prosperous and its people so kind.

Her earlier response about having no troubles had been honest.

She’d come to this village on the northern edge, on the condition that she work as a seamstress for at least a year, but the people were kind, and the work was enjoyable.

Most importantly, living here, she wouldn’t have to send her daughter away to work, and they wouldn’t have to worry about food.

“Let’s make a hat that will provide excellent sun protection. Jill, will you help?”

“Yes! I’ll help!”

Her daughter’s brown eyes, so much like her late husband’s, shone brightly.

Jeanne smiled at her daughter’s energetic reply.