The Royal Lacemaker (12 page)

All afternoon, Lily ignored the curious
stares and whispered exchanges that stopped whenever she looked up. Finally, when
the shadows had lengthened, and she could call a halt to the day's work, she
breathed a sigh of relief.

Still hoping to catch the cobbler, for
she knew he too worked very long hours, she waited until the last of the ladies had
left the workroom and then followed them out into the street. To her surprise, Tom
was sitting on the wall outside and all thoughts of getting her boots repaired
vanished. He seemed oblivious to the lace makers huddled in a group nearby, throwing
speculative glances their way. Obviously they'd deduced he was unlikely to
have sent the flowers, for a fisherman's wages would never stretch to such
luxuries.

His eyes lit up when he saw Lily and,
taking hold of his arm, she led him down the hill, away from the others.

‘It's nice to see you,
Tom,' she said, snuggling closer, breathing in the mixture of salt and sea
that was him.

‘I was wondering if you'd
time for a cold drink before you return to Coombe?' he asked. She glanced down
at her boots. Oh, what the heck, they'd last another day or so.

‘That would be lovely, Tom,'
she said, smiling up at him.

They sat together
looking out over the harbour and for the first time that day Lily felt herself
relaxing.

‘This fruit drink's really
refreshing,' she said, having almost drained her jug in one go.

‘That it is. Eliza makes it
herself. Says the recipe's been handed down in her family for generations. You
should ask her how it's made, then you could make us some when we're
wed.'

She nodded then, remembering her news,
began telling him about her aunt's housekeeping position and Robert's
apprenticeship.

‘The trouble is they'll be
moving to Ilminster and taking the donkey-cart with them,' she finished.

‘Well, Lily my love, I'm
right pleased for Robert. It would've been hard for him to go from being man
of the house to nothing when you move out.'

‘I must confess I hadn't
thought of that,' she replied, feeling guilty.

‘You've had a lot in your
bowl recently. Will Beth be staying with Mrs Goode when they go?'

Another stab of guilt pricked her.
‘Aunt Elizabeth says as she's settled so well it's best to leave
her. I called to see her after you left yesterday and she was really happy. She
showed me the lace she'd made and it's really good. Mother would have
been so proud of her,' she said, looking sad for a moment. ‘Perhaps we
could take her down to the beach at Coombe Head for a picnic one day soon?'
she suggested, brightening.

‘Don't see why not, Lily. It
would do us all good. We could take young Harriet as well and give Mrs Goode a
break.' Lily smiled fondly at him, thinking how thoughtful
he could be. But his next words shattered her good mood. ‘Still, going back
to what we were talking about. That just leaves you. It's not long until your
eviction notice expires, is it?'

‘I know, and I am giving careful
consideration to what I'm going to do,' she said, smiling sweetly at
him.

He took a long swig of his drink, then
looked at her speculatively.

‘I don't know what's
been going on up at the manor, our Lily, but you can rest assured I'll get to
the bottom of it.'

She took a breath to calm herself and
then forced a smile.

‘And I don't understand why
you should think anything's been going on, Tom. Isn't it reason enough
that I want to stay working for Mrs Bodney?'

‘All I want is your happiness,
Lily, but I can't help feeling you are keeping something from me. Without
complete trust between us, we cannot have a true relationship. Promise you'll
tell me if anything's wrong?' he asked, peering at her so earnestly she
had to look away.

‘Maybe you could look for lodgings
here in Bransbeer now you have only yourself to worry about. Just think of all that
travelling you'd save each day. I'll ask Mother if she knows of anyone
with a room to rent,' he continued, looking pleased with his suggestion.

‘What a good idea, Tom,' she
exclaimed, as if the thought had never occurred to her. If his mother knew of
anywhere, that would be such a help.

‘Oh, Lily, if it wasn't that
you was in mourning, I'd suggest we marry right now for I'm sure we
could scrape enough together to get ourselves started.'

Lily grimaced. There
was nothing she'd like better, but people would say it was disrespectful and
she didn't want to begin their married life with a cloud hanging over
them.

All the way home, her thoughts raged as
turbulent as the weather was becoming. Tom's words about trust kept going
round her head.

Involuntarily her thoughts went back to
the Harvest Supper. She shuddered, remembering how she'd been ferrying dishes
along the dingy hallway towards the scullery, when the squire had pounced out from
behind the linen cupboard. Laden down with crockery, she'd ducked and dived as
his slug-like hands reached out, attempting to paw her private places while making
the most lewd suggestions. How she hadn't dropped one of his precious plates
she'd never know. Steely determination to avoid both his advances and having
her wages docked for any breakages had been uppermost in her mind. It was later that
the feelings of revulsion had really hit her. It was the squire who'd made the
advances, ensuring he'd caught her when she was alone. Never ever had she
given him one ounce of encouragement. Her conscience was clear, she thought,
remembering Tom's words about trust.

It was only as she was leading Doris
into the barn that she remembered she hadn't mentioned the flowers. But as she
let herself in through the scullery door all thought of Tom vanished.

‘Have you had a good day, my
dear?' Aunt Elizabeth asked as she continued stacking crockery. Then before
Lily could answer, she said, ‘Oh, before I forget, Lady Clinsden is delighted
you've decided to accept the position at the
manor and
wishes to discuss details of the summer ball. She'd be obliged if you would
call upon her first thing on the morrow. I must say I was surprised. I didn't
know you'd changed your mind.'

Lily's heart sank.

‘I haven't. In fact,
I've already told the squire I'll be continuing to work for Mrs Bodney
and won't be accepting his position. Nor will I be serving at table at their
summer ball.'

‘Well, her ladyship seems to think
otherwise, Lily, so you'll have to make your intentions plain,' her aunt
continued.

Lily nodded, distracted by the delicious
aroma wafting from the pot over the fire. As often seemed to be the case these days,
she'd quite forgotten to eat her noon piece.

‘I'm famished and need
something to eat before I drop dead on the flags.'

‘Davey called by with a rabbit for
the pot so I've made a nice soul-sticking stew for supper. They say poachers
always make the best gamekeepers,'
Aunt Elizabeth laughed,
giving a roguish wink. Impatiently, Lily watched as her aunt ladled a generous
amount into a dish and cut her a hunk of bread. Good old Davey, she thought. Many a
time, when their larder had been bare, he'd called by with a rabbit or pigeon
he'd chanced upon.

‘Robert's been clearing out
the barn and chicken coup. He's taken the fowl up to Grace as we'll not
be able to take them with us,' Aunt Elizabeth said.

‘That was a kind thought,'
said Lily, as she mopped up the last of the savoury juices with her bread.

‘He says he wants to leave
everything as neat as a needle,' Aunt Elizabeth continued, and Lily smiled to
herself. She was going to miss her aunt with her mixed-up sayings.

‘I've put your
mother's things in a pile on your bed. There's not much of any use. Even
her dresses are all worn through, though you might find the material useful for rag
rugs.'

Lily had a sudden vision of her and Tom
sitting in front of the fire, hooking strips of material into sacking, then realized
her aunt was still speaking.

‘You'll want to keep her
wedding ring and Bible, of course.'

Lily looked up in surprise.
‘Surely, she was wearing her ring when she was buried?'

‘What, so that the gravies could
filch it? I think not, our Lily,' her aunt snorted. ‘What those thieving
scoundrels get up to after a body's been buried is nobody's
business.'

Lily shivered and was pleased that
she'd finished eating her stew.

‘Anyhow, you'd best write a
note to Lady Clinsden so she knows what's happening.'

Robert, hobbling into the room at that
moment looked at Lily meaningfully.

‘It's all right, Aunt
Elizabeth. I'll see her ladyship gets the message first thing. You look tired,
Auntie, why not get on home now?' he said.

‘You're right, Rob, I am, so
I'll bid you both good night,' Aunt Elizabeth said, pulling her shawl
around her.

When she'd left, Lily smiled at
her brother.

‘Thanks, Rob. I think I'll
take a look at Mother's things before I turn in. Good night,' she said,
going over and pecking his cheek.

Walking into the
bedroom where her mother had spent the last few months of her life, Lily saw the
little pile of clothes with the Bible and wedding ring lying on top. Picking up the
golden band, she caressed it gently. Although it was now thin and slightly
misshapen, she knew it had been her mother's most precious possession. Gently
she touched it to her lips then slipped it onto the third finger of her right hand.
Standing alone in the dark room, her throat tightened and hot tears flowed like lava
down her cheeks. ‘Goodbye, Mother dear,' she whispered, for only now had
it sunk in that she would never see her again.

She woke next morning feeling drained
yet somehow cleansed inside. The air was bracing and by the time she trundled the
donkey-cart into the hostelry stable yard at first light, her spirits were lifted.
She knew her mother would want her to be happy. Having been a proficient lace maker
herself, she'd have been proud her daughter had been chosen to make lace for
the Queen, especially as she'd been the one to teach her the craft. Although
Lily preferred working in the company of others to sitting by herself for long hours
at a stretch, all this travelling was very time consuming. If she could find
lodgings in Bransbeer, she and Tom would have more time to spend together.

Feeling brighter than she had for a long
time, she handed the reins to Ned who, as usual, was looking the worse for wear, and
hurried towards Mrs Bodney's cottage.

‘Lily!' Hearing her name,
she turned and saw Mary puffing along the lane behind her.

‘Morning, Mary,
isn't it a beautiful day?' she said brightly and the other woman eyed
her sharply.

‘Aye, now the blow's
cleared. Look, I wanted to speak to you about the card that came with those flowers.
It's been playing on my mind all night …' But Lily had seen Tom
hurrying towards them and waved.

‘Tom. What a nice surprise,'
she exclaimed. ‘I don't usually see you at this time of day.'

‘I'll go on then, shall
I?' snapped Mary, annoyed at being interrupted, but Lily was smiling up at Tom
and didn't hear.

‘I've not got long. The pots
need baiting up,' he said, catching his breath. ‘I spoke to Mother last
night and she mentioned Miss Chicke has a room coming vacant. She runs the lodging
house next to High Field up on Long Hill. Mother says it's respectable so her
rooms get taken quickly.'

Lily's spirits rose higher still.
‘That's just past High House, isn't it? That could be very
convenient. Thank you, Tom,' she said, clapping her hands together excitedly.
‘I'll see if I can pay Miss Chicke a visit during the noon
break.'

It was a quiet morning, and whilst the
ladies worked diligently at their pillows, Lily walked over to the table and began
counting the pile of finished sprigs. To her relief, the lace makers' hard
work had paid off and she calculated they were back on schedule at last.

As the church clock chimed noon, she
rang the bell for their break and was just snatching up her shawl when she noticed
Anna was screwing up her eyes, a worried frown creasing her face.

‘Is something
wrong, Anna?' she asked, but the older woman shook her head and scuttled
outside. Anxious to be on her way, Lily hurried from the workroom.

As she made her way up the main street,
past the church and on towards the lodging house by High Field, she prayed the room
hadn't already been taken. Fighting down the butterflies that appeared to be
enjoying a summer ball of their own in her stomach, she knocked on the door of the
lodging house.