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Authors: Rosie Goodwin

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Family Life

The Ribbon Weaver (51 page)

BOOK: The Ribbon Weaver
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Seth welcomed him with a firm handshake and a smile, and Amy knew instantly that they were going to get on. Billy knew absolutely nothing about horses but he was eager to learn, and Amy knew that he had found a good teacher in Seth.

The couple were absolutely thrilled with their living quarters on the second floor of Amy’s new house, and Nancy clapped her hands in delight when she saw all the trouble that Amy had gone to, to furnish the three rooms for them. There were also two further rooms for extra staff should Amy require them, although she very much doubted that would be the case. The further two rooms would serve as a nursery and a schoolroom.

Everything in their living quarters was brand new, and as Nancy had never owned a new stick of furniture in her whole life, it seemed like a palace to her.

Within two days of being there, she felt as if she had lived there forever, and never tired of looking out at the wide-open spaces. It was like living in another world after knowing nothing other than the busy streets of London and she was often heard to remark to anyone who would listen, ‘I reckon I’ve died and gone to ’eaven. But we ’ave to come up wiv a good name fer the place, so what about The Woodlands or Treetops?’

And so she would prattle on as Amy looked on indulgently.

Now that Nancy and Billy were settled, Amy began to look forward to the Laroques arriving. They would be staying at The Folly, and Josephine already had all their rooms ready and waiting for them.

They came on a blistering hot day at the beginning of May and it was instantly obvious that Edwige Laroque was almost as excited as Josephine. She swooned with delight when Josephine showed her the tent, which had now had a beautiful wooden floor laid down for the dancing that would take place after the wedding feast.


C’est magnifique
!’ she declared, clasping her hands together, and Josephine smiled at the praise as she pointed out the table-plan.

‘But now, am I allowed to have a peep at the bridal gown?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’ Josephine told her. ‘I’m sure Amy would have no objections to me showing it to you.’

The two women wandered back across the lawns and Josephine led her upstairs.

‘Ah, simple yet elegant,’ Madame Laroque said approvingly as she studied the dress. ‘And will Amy be wearing
un voile
– you know, a veil?’

‘Yes, it’s over there.’

The woman looked towards it and she nodded again. ‘Good, good. It will hide her scar, will it not?’

Josephine bristled as the smile slid from her face. ‘I suppose it will,’ she conceded. ‘Although I think Amy is still beautiful even with the scar.’

‘Oh, but of
course
she is,’ Madame Laroque said hurriedly, seeing that she had offended her host. ‘But it is such a shame that her face was marked. She was such a beauty before that terrible attack. Still, we should be grateful for small mercies, should we not? At least her hands are undamaged. It would have been a sin, had she not been able to continue designing. My husband assures me that Mademoiselle Aimée is the most talented designer he has ever come across, and he has great plans for her future.’

Josephine smiled. ‘I will agree that Amy is talented. But what will happen if children come along? She may wish to devote her time to them then.’

The woman waved her hand dismissively. ‘
Non
,
non
, if this should happen, François would employ a nurse to care for them. In Paris, women of standing do not take on the menial tasks of caring for their
enfants
.’

‘I see.’ Josephine was concerned. ‘And what about whilst they are tiny and need their mother’s milk?’

‘We employ
une nourrice
… how do you say? The wet-nurse, who will come in to feed the
enfant
whenever necessary.’

‘Oh.’ Josephine was horrified as she thought back to when her own two infants had been born. She had treasured every moment she spent with them, and although she had had a nanny for them to see to the more menial tasks like washing and ironing their clothes, she had fed them herself and spent as much time as she could with them. Still, she decided that Amy would decide what she wanted, if and when that day came, and could see no point in upsetting Madame Laroque by airing her own personal views on the subject.

Outside on the lawn, Amy and François were heading for the new house. She was excited at the prospect of showing him their home and could hardly wait to see if he approved of her choice of furnishings.

They skirted the woods, and there it was before them. Amy held her breath as she waited for his first reaction. When it finally came it was not quite what she had hoped for.

‘It is somewhat small, is it not?’ he commented musingly.

Seeing as it was much larger than the whole row of cottages that she had been brought up in, Amy could not agree with him. ‘It’s very spacious inside,’ she assured him. ‘There are five bedrooms as well as the servants’ quarters upstairs, and the kitchen is huge. There is also a study where we can both work and a drawing room and a dining room. I’m sure you will be surprised when we get inside. Nancy and I thought we might christen it Treetops – what do you think?’

François shrugged indifferently and once in the hallway, stood with his hands folded behind his back as he looked around critically. ‘It is, as I thought on first glance, quite small compared to the residences I am used to living in,’ he said. ‘But then we shall be spending the majority of our time living in Paris, so I am sure we will manage very well for the time we are here.’

‘But … I thought we had agreed to spend the majority of the time
here
.’ Colour had flamed into Amy’s cheeks and he saw that she was not pleased. Not wishing to cause a row before their wedding, he smiled at her charmingly.

‘Let us not quarrel,
ma petite
. First we shall be married and then we shall worry about trivialities.’

‘But where I live
isn’t
a triviality, François.’ There was a determined glint in her eye that he had never seen before, and he realised that she had more spirit than he had given her credit for. He had assumed that Amy would be easy to manipulate but now he wasn’t so sure.

‘I have to think of my gran,’ she went on. ‘She is an old lady now, and once she is living here the only person she will have for company when I am absent is Nancy.’

François kept his smile fixed firmly in place although he was beginning to get annoyed. It was bad enough that he had been forced to agree to Molly living with them. Now it seemed she would dictate their comings and goings. Still, he consoled himself. There was an easy way around that problem. Once they were married, Amy could stay here with her gran if she so wished and he would come and go to Paris as he pleased.

Taking her into his arms he slowly kissed her lips for the first time in months and suddenly all her misgivings melted away. No problem was insurmountable and she was sure that they were going to be happy. Relaxed again now, she gave him a guided tour of the rest of the house and now he was nothing but complimentary about it.

It was now less than three days to the wedding and Amy was beginning to feel very nervous.

‘Stop pacin’ up an’ down, will yer,’ Molly told her. ‘My God, at this rate yer’ll be a nervous wreck before the weddin’ day dawns. What’s up wi’ yer anyway?’

‘I don’t know,’ Amy admitted. ‘It’s just nerves, I suppose.’

Molly suddenly stood in front of her and peering closely at her asked, ‘Are yer
quite
sure as yer want to go through wi’ this, lass? It ain’t too late to change yer mind, yer know.’

Amy snorted. ‘Can you imagine what a scandal it would cause? And what would the Forresters say, after all the money and effort they’ve put into it?’

‘The way I see it, it’d be a nine-day wonder,’ Molly said stoically. ‘While folks are talkin’ about you they’d be leavin’ some other poor bugger alone … An’ as for the Forresters – well, if they loved yer, which I believe they do, they’d want what’s best for yer.’

Amy laughed nervously. ‘Oh, just ignore me, Gran. Every bride has doubts before her wedding, so I believe.’ She began to limp towards the stairs and as Molly watched her go she frowned. Amy was doing really well on her new leg but she could not walk as far now as she had used to, and by the end of each day her limp was visible.

Even now, so close to the big day, Molly could not rid herself of the feeling that François was not the right one for her girl. But then as Molly’s mother had been fond of saying,
We all have to learn by us own mistakes
. Amy was a grown woman now and old enough to make her own choices, be they right or wrong.

Chapter Thirty-Six

 

It was the night before the wedding and Amy was waiting for the carriage that her grandfather was sending to take her back to Forrester’s Folly.

It was hard to believe that she had slept in the cottage for the very last time as she looked around her. Tonight she would sleep in her late mother’s room and tomorrow morning the carriage would return to pick Molly up, so that she could help Amy to get dressed for her wedding.

She was lost in thought when a shadow suddenly fell across the open doorway and Toby appeared. His hair was still wet from his wash following a long day down the mine and when Amy saw him her face lit up. He had been avoiding her, these last few weeks, but she had been hoping that he would come to say goodbye. It didn’t feel right to go off and start her new life without his blessing.

‘Hello, Toby. Or should I say goodbye? I’m glad you came to see me off.’ She held her hand out to him and he took it as he smiled at her.

‘I just wanted to wish yer well, Amy.’ She clung to his hand as she looked back at him and Molly discreetly slipped away to give them some privacy.

‘So, tomorrow is the big day then, eh?’

Gulping deep in her throat, she said, ‘Yes, it is. I can hardly believe it’s come around so fast. I dare say it will be your turn next. Have you popped the question to Annie yet?’

His face flushed. ‘Actually, me an’ Annie … Well, the thing is – we decided to call it a day. Or what I should say is,
she
did.’

Amy blinked in surprise. ‘But I thought you were getting on so well! I thought … oh, I don’t know. I thought you loved her.’

‘Well, we all know what thought did, don’t we? Truth o’ the matter is she got fed up o’ me keepin’ her danglin’, an’ I can’t say as I blame her. But Amy …’ his grip on her hand tightened now … I want you to be happy above all things. You are
sure
you’re doin’ the right thing, ain’t yer?’

She was saved from having to answer when they heard the sound of the carriage in the lane outside.

‘I shall have to go,’ she told him softly, and now there was a lump in her throat as she stared into his eyes. Molly came bustling back into the kitchen just in time to see Amy stand on tiptoe and kiss Toby on the lips, saying, ‘Just remember, you have been my dearest friend, and my door will always be open to you.’

He blinked, and then before she could say any more he was gone and she felt strangely bereft. She would miss their chats and the laughter they had shared. But more than that, she suddenly realised just how very much she would simply miss
him
.

‘Come on then, let’s be havin’ yer.’ Molly was ushering her towards the door. All of Amy’s possessions had already been moved to her new home and all that remained to do now was deliver Amy to her grandparents’ home.

Just before Amy climbed into the carriage, Molly hugged her fiercely. ‘Just be sure to get an early night,’ she cautioned her. ‘I want yer bright-eyed an’ bushy-tailed when I arrive in the mornin’. Do yer hear me?’

Forcing a grin, Amy told her, ‘
Yes
, Gran, I hear you. Now you just be careful, and if you need anything, give Bessie or Toby a shout.’ Her eyes suddenly filled with tears again and her voice dropped as she mumbled, ‘I wish you were coming with me tonight.’

Molly shook her head. ‘Don’t let’s start that again. I’ll be in the new place soon enough. Let’s go an’ get tomorrow over with, an’ get you away on yer bridal tour an’ then I’ll be there waitin’ for yer when yer get back.’

Amy sighed. She knew of old that Molly would not change her mind, so there was no point in arguing. Heaving herself up the steps of the carriage she settled herself into the seat as she smiled at Molly from the window.

‘I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night, Gran.’

‘Good night, lass.’

Amy waved as the carriage drew away, knowing that from this moment on, the humble cottage she was leaving would no longer be her home. It was a sobering thought.

As the carriage rattled down the long driveway leading to Forrester’s Folly, Amy saw that the grounds were bustling with activity. Maids with their arms full of flower arrangements were hurrying towards the enormous tent. Lanterns were being strung all along the front of it and men were also busily stringing them into the surrounding trees.

Yet more maids were inside setting the tables with crystal goblets and silver cutlery. And now she saw the cook bossily shouting her orders as flummoxed maids tried to set up the wedding cake to her satisfaction, on a table set to one side of where she and François would sit tomorrow. She shuddered involuntarily as the carriage drew to a halt. It would not be long now.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Nancy came haring towards her, her eyes bright with excitement as she helped Amy down from her seat.

‘Cor, I think this is gonna be a weddin’ to remember,’ she chirped as she linked her arm through Amy’s. ‘It’s like summink yer read about in fairy tales, ain’t it?’ she went on dreamily with a faraway look in her eyes. ‘Not so long ago when I first met yer, yer were workin’ fer the master, an’ then it turns out yer his own flesh an’ blood, an now ’ere you are, about to marry a dashin’ Frenchman. Yer can’t get much better than that, I don’t reckon.’

‘I don’t suppose you can,’ Amy said absently, her eyes still flitting about at all the bustle.

BOOK: The Ribbon Weaver
10Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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