The Royal Lacemaker (19 page)

‘But he must be charging
something,' she protested.

‘Think of it as a small gift from
your betrothed, Lily,' Tom said.

‘I can't expect you
to—' she began; then, seeing the look of pride on his face, kissed his cheek
instead.

As Lily entered the parlour on Monday
morning, Mrs Bodney signalled for her to be seated.

‘Whilst we break our fast, I have
several things to acquaint you with.' Lily sat looking at her employer
expectantly. Mrs Bodney, however, calmly poured their tea before continuing.

‘Unsurprisingly, Mr Pike
has
agreed to let me rent his premises for the sum I originally
offered,' she said. ‘Conveniently for us, it seems he has an important
deal to broker further west. He is leaving this morning and will be away for some
time. Whilst I've already engaged the best lace makers in Devonshire, I feel
it would be prudent to have a few extra standing by in case of sickness or
incapacity. I myself do not have the time available to test the quality of their
lace making, so this job will now fall to you, Lily.'

‘Yes, Mrs Bodney,' Lily
said, carefully cutting her toast into four, then biting into it daintily. Really
this preserve was so delicious, she thought, savouring every mouthful.

‘… so Mr Mountsford has
offered his services. Is that not kind of him?'

Quickly looking up, Lily saw the other
woman waiting for an answer.

‘Lily, dear, whilst there is no
doubt as to the quality of your work I rather think you need to improve your
listening skills,' her employer rebuked.

‘Sorry, Mrs
Bodney,' she said, looking down at her cup.

‘I was saying that Mr Mountsford
has gallantly offered his services. He is calling for you in his carriage at 10 of
the clock. You can direct him to Coombe and he will be happy to transport your
belongings from there to Pike's place.'

‘But I … the
agent's premises?' she said, surprised.

‘There is a room in the attic
there, which will afford you comfortable accommodation. In return, you'll have
responsibility for ensuring the work gets completed on time and that it is up to
standard. Of course, if you encounter any problems you can and must come to me. Now
do I take it you are agreeable?' Stunned, Lily could only nod, quite
forgetting Tom had already arranged to have her belongings moved.

‘Oh, and, Lily, it would serve you
well to be an entertaining companion, for I rather think Mr Mountsford has taken a
shine to you.'

Promptly at 10 o'clock, Rupert
Mountsford drew up outside Mrs Bodney's cottage. As Lily clambered inside the
carriage and settled back onto the squabs, she became aware of an unfamiliar smell.
It was rather pleasant, vaguely reminding her of Christmas. She turned to ask Rupert
what it was, but he was calling to the driver. Then, they pulled away and her
attention was diverted by what was passing by the window.

‘Goodness, this must be how the
Queen feels,' Lily said, leaning forward and waving to her friend Sally,
who'd just emerged from the dairy and was staring at her incredulously. Rupert
smiled indulgently, but a few minutes later he wrinkled his nose as a noxious stench
pervaded his nostrils.

‘What on earth
is that disgusting smell? And what are all those people doing?' he asked,
pointing to the huddle of women hunched over the brook.

‘Village folk draw their water
from there and do their washing. It's a kind of meeting place where they catch
up on the gossip at the same time as doing their chores.'

‘But there are ducks and geese
swimming in it,' he said, shaking his head.

‘That's why the canny go up
the top of the village, Rupert. By the time the water reaches here it's full
of slops and whatnots,' Lily informed him, laughing as he shuddered.
‘It's clearly a different way of life where you come from.'

‘Indeed it is,' he agreed
with feeling.

At that moment the carriage tilted as it
turned sharply into the lane and she clung on tightly, watching as the steeply
pitched roofs of the almshouses flashed by the window. Then they turned again and
she shook her head. This carriage was already travelling much faster than Doris ever
did.

‘I wish Tom could see me,'
she said, looking down at the sea shimmering beneath the cliffs. Gulls screeched and
wheeled on the breeze. ‘There's his lugger pulled up by the fish
hut.' Rupert stared in the direction of her pointing finger. ‘That one
with the white spars. He painted them so they'd show in the dark and no
smugglers would want to use his boat,' she said proudly.

Rupert looked quickly across at her but
she was busy staring out of the window.

‘He'll be going out to bait
the pots soon,' she added, and Rupert duly looked down at the boats drawn up
on the beach.

‘Tom – he is a
special friend?' he asked.

‘Oh, Rupert, you know full well
he's my betrothed.'

‘Indeed?' he asked,
furrowing his dark eyebrows as he glanced down at her left hand. ‘Well, Lily,
I must say that I'm surprised. If I were lucky enough to have such an
attractive young lady as my betrothed, I'd want everyone to know she belonged
to me.'

‘How would you do that?' she
asked, puzzled.

‘I'd buy her a ring with a
stone as big and bright as her speedwell eyes,' he replied, looking at her
meaningfully.

She felt her cheeks burn and, cursing
inwardly, turned to stare back out of the window. Would she never grow out of this
childish blushing? Then, sensing he was waiting for her to respond, she turned back
towards him.

‘Well, Tom and I don't need
showy baubles to seal our relationship,' she retorted.

‘Sorry, Lily, I always seem to be
putting my foot in it with you. Let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?' he
asked, smiling.

She nodded, relaxing back on the leather
squabs once more. Truth to tell she'd have been delighted if Tom had gone down
on one knee and proffered a ring, but that was the stuff of fairy tales,
wasn't it? There again, he had said he was saving up for one. She didn't
think Rupert would understand, though. If he wanted something, he could probably
just go and buy it.

They were cresting the cliffs, the dark
red soil from the adjoining fields showing through the bright green of the early
summer crops. The warmth from the sun shining through the window, combined with the
gentle swaying
motion, restored her equilibrium. But as they began
their descent into Coombe, the carriage started to rock precariously from side to
side. It was going too quickly for the rutted ground and the driver appeared to be
having difficulty keeping the horses to the track. She peered out of the window and
saw that he was using his whip vigorously. Feeling compelled to say something, she
looked across at Rupert, who, seemingly unaware, was staring at the tumbledown
cottages they were passing.

‘Good grief, just look at those
topsy-turvy huts clinging to the cliffs,' he said, grimacing.
‘Don't tell me people really live in them?'

‘Yes, Rupert, they do, and they
call them cotts or cottages,' she said, sighing. ‘I guess all the houses
in London are grander.' But before he could answer, the coach lurched again,
sending her sliding towards the other side of the carriage. Unable to stand it any
longer, she shouted, ‘Look, I really don't like the way your driver is
whipping the horses. It's not necessary.'

Surprised at her outburst, he stared at
her for a long moment.

‘You're right, of course,
Lily,' he agreed, pulling down the window and shouting to the driver to
desist. However, they were now passing alongside a pigsty and hastily he put a hand
up to cover his nose before snapping the window shut. Collapsing back on the squabs,
he looked so affronted she had to stifle a giggle.

‘Good healthy smell of the
country, that, Rupert,' she couldn't resist saying.

‘Yes, I see,' he said
politely, clearly not realizing she was pulling his leg.

Feeling a pang of
remorse, for he was loaning her his carriage, she smiled sweetly at him.

‘Not much further now,' she
said, as they passed the church. Excitement bubbled as she looked out at the
familiar scenery. ‘We're here,' she announced as they reached the
orchard. Peering around, she could see no sign of the new tenant and, as Rupert
shouted to the driver to stop, she got ready to jump out. But Rupert was staring
from the muddy path leading to the barn down to his grey flannel trousers and shiny
shoes.

‘You stay here,' Lily
laughed. ‘It will only take a moment to collect my things and my boots are
used to the muck.' Before he could answer, she jumped down from the
carriage.

‘Good job we don't still
have our pig or the ground by the barn would be a quagmire,' she
couldn't help shouting over her shoulder.

Rupert, however, was gingerly climbing
down after her and staring aghast at the cottage, the lean-to linny and then the pig
pen.

‘Did you really live in this
ramshackle building?' he asked in disbelief.

‘This was our home, and very happy
we were here too,' Lily retorted, marching towards the barn. Carefully picking
his way around the puddles, Rupert followed after her.

‘Mind the rats,' she warned,
smiling to herself as he visibly paled. That would teach him to be rude about their
family home. The barn door creaked as she pulled it open, and to her relief she saw
her things safely stacked on the clean straw.

‘Is this all you
have?' he asked, staring at the small bundle that constituted her worldly
goods.

She nodded. ‘Don't need much
to live,' she said, picking it up, but he reached out and took it from
her.

‘Here, allow me.'

‘Thank you, Rupert.' She
peered around, surprised not to see signs of activity. ‘Could I just have a
quick look inside the cottage? I'd like to say goodbye.' Understanding –
or maybe sympathy – flashed in his eyes and he nodded.

‘Take as long as you need, Lily.
I'll wait in the carriage.'

Making her way round to the back, she
lifted the latch, giving the door the necessary shove to open it. Slowly, she
wandered through the cold, empty rooms, hearing the echoes of her childhood,
remembering happier times. The fuss their parents had made of them on their
birthdays and Christmas, with specially made cakes, fruit pies and a feast of
succulent roast chicken or pork. Their living room would smell fragrant with cooking
for hours after the meals had been eaten. Then there were the egg hunts at Easter,
each child desperate to be first to find the biggest, which their mother would have
coloured with onion skins. She could almost see Rob chasing her from room to room,
hear their squeals of laughter. That was before the accident, of course.

She sighed, remembering her grandmother
saying that a life took an age to live, yet the memory could skip down through the
years in moments. She hadn't understood what she meant at the time but she did
now. Her chest tightened painfully and she feared she might choke.

‘Goodbye, Father, goodbye,
Mother,' she whispered. Then, blinking back the tears, she hurried outside. As
she
pulled the door shut for the last time, a skylark flew up from
the adjoining field, its joyous song floating on the breeze. Vowing not to cry, she
bit down hard on her lip and hurried back to the carriage.

Rupert smiled as she settled on her
seat.

‘Are you all right?' he
asked gently, concern clouding his eyes, but she felt too emotional to speak.
Nodding briefly, she turned and stared out of the window.

They travelled back through Coombe in
silence, passing the church with the graveyard where her parents and siblings were
buried, the rickety forge, red sandstone inn and cob cottages with smoke rising in
plumes from their chimneys. Lost in her memories, she forgot Rupert was sitting
opposite, until he reached over and gently covered her hand with his. Looking up,
she caught a waft of lemony citrus from his cologne. It was quite pleasant, she
thought, but a different smell from the one she'd noticed when she'd
first got into the carriage. There was something reassuring about the warmth of his
touch and she found herself staring in fascination at his silky smooth skin and
neatly manicured nails. Such a contrast to Tom's work-roughened hands, she
thought. Guiltily she snatched her hand away. What was she doing letting another man
touch her?

Rupert just smiled and said nothing.

It could have been minutes or hours
before he broke the silence; Lily had completely lost track of time.

‘We're nearly there
now,' he said, pointing out of the window. To her surprise, she saw the
carriage was making its way up the main street of Bransbeer.

‘Will you be all right?' he
asked, as they drew to a halt
outside the agent's imposing
premises. ‘I'm sure Mrs Bodney will understand if you need to partake of
a little refreshment before you resume your duties, and I'd be delighted to
escort you to the hostelry.' At the mention of her employer's name, Lily
snapped back to the present.