The Royal Lacemaker (34 page)

Mrs Bodney gave her a penetrating look.
‘You didn't accept his apologies then?'

‘No, I did not. Why should I? I
may have had to entertain him as part of my duties but they are all but finished now
so it doesn't matter if I never see or speak to him again, does it?'

‘Well, there is still some work
left for you to do but no, you don't have to see Mr Mountsford again. Did he
leave anything for me, by the way?' she asked, looking down at the table and
frowning.

‘Yes, he left two small packets on
the dresser, and Mary took them through to the kitchen. Unfortunately, though, he
didn't stay long enough to sample any of his lovely strong tea,' she
said, staring meaningfully at her employer.

‘Thank you, Lily, I think you
should return to the workroom now,' Mrs Bodney said, quickly lowering her
eyes.

Not feeling up to meeting the inquisitive
stares of the others and in dire need of fresh air, Lily went to fetch her shawl. On
her way back down the stairs, she spotted the turnip lamp lying under the ledge
where it had fallen. Picking it up, she decided to take a walk to Coombe to see
Beth.

To her surprise, as she walked down the
path, she saw Tom sauntering towards her and, despite herself, her heart
flipped.

‘Afternoon, Lily. It's
unusual to see you out at this time of day,' he said, politely, doffing his
cap.

‘Afternoon, Tom. It's
unusual to see you at all round these parts,' she countered, only to see his
lips twitch.

‘You always were a ready
wit,' he said, stopping and giving her the cheeky grin that made her heart
somersault. ‘Where are you off to, anyway?' he asked.

‘I'm going to Coombe to see
Beth and give her this,' Lily said, holding out the turnip.

‘Hey, that's a great lamp.
It'll look right spooky when it's lit for Samhain tomorrow. Did you
carve it?'

‘Yes, with old Joe's help.
We made one for his grandson too,' she said proudly.

Tom looked at her quizzically.
‘You're still an old softy,' he said gruffly.

Her heart started thumping furiously,
but he didn't appear to hear.

‘I meant what I
said about still loving you, Tom,' she said. ‘I know you'll
probably never forgive me but I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for
disbelieving you about the ring.'

‘Yeah, well, water down the brook,
as they say. Happen I'm off to Coombe myself, so what say we walk there
together and have that chat?' he asked.

‘Yes, let's,' she
answered, smiling up at him. It would give them the time they needed to clear the
air between them once and for all, she thought.

‘Happen, I might have something to
show you,' he said, giving her his saucy wink and holding out his arm to
her.

‘Oh, and what might that
be?' she asked, linking her arm through his. But, before he could answer, Mrs
Bodney's strident voice sounded behind her from the doorway of Picky
Pike's.

‘Lily Rose, what are you doing
outside at this time of the day?' Then, without waiting for her reply, she
added, ‘I'll see you in the parlour, directly. There's something
you need to do whilst it's still light.'

Lily's heart plummeted. She wanted
to go with Tom but did she dare defy her employer?

‘Good afternoon, Tom. I
didn't notice you there,' Mrs Bodney said, peering out of the door. Then
with a brisk nod, she disappeared back inside.

‘Will you wait for me?' Lily
asked, looking hopefully at Tom.

‘Sorry, Lily. I've arranged
to meet someone before dusk and daren't keep him waiting. Give me the lamp and
I'll see that Beth gets it.'

Lily's heart
sank to the cobbles and she could have screamed in frustration.

‘Oh, well, thanks, Tom. Tell her
I'll visit her as soon as I can,' she said, reluctantly passing it over.
‘Will I see you again soon?' she couldn't help asking.

‘Lily, just how much longer do you
propose keeping me waiting?' Mrs Bodney called impatiently.

‘Go on, you'd best go in
before she lays an egg,' Tom said, chuckling as he went on his way.

Cursing under her breath, Lily went
inside, threw her shawl over the nail beside the stairs and went through to the
parlour.

‘And not before time,' the
other woman remarked, frowning as she looked up from her table. ‘Now, we know
how good your sewing is, don't we?'

‘My sewing?' Lily asked,
looking puzzled.

‘I've not got time to listen
to you parroting, Lily. I need you to sew these together,' she instructed,
handing Lily six of the sprigs they'd made. ‘I have things to attend to,
but when I return, I'll inspect your work to see how you've got
on.' With that, she swept regally out of the room, reminding Lily of the time
she'd sat her ability test. The woman was still just as intimidating, she
thought, threading the needle and setting about her task.

How she wished she was walking over the
cliffs with Tom instead of sitting here doing this wretched sewing. He'd
seemed really pleased to see her, and she hoped the bad feeling between them was
completely gone. How frustrating to have had the opportunity of spending time with
him snatched away from her. Perhaps she should have ignored Mrs Bodney's order
and gone with him.

Luckily her mother, an
accomplished seamstress, had taught her well, for whilst her thoughts were in
turmoil, she stitched automatically. It was only when Mrs Bodney reappeared carrying
a lighted candle that she noticed dusk had fallen and the room was in shadow.

‘Right, let's see how
you've fared,' the woman said brusquely, reaching out for the completed
work. ‘Just as I thought,' she said, a few moments later. ‘Right,
Lily, go and pack your bag.'

‘What?' she exclaimed.
‘Oh, Mrs Bodney, I know I should have gone back—'

‘What are you wittering about? I
said go and get your things packed. We leave at first light,' her employer
said, impatiently waving her hand around.

So she'd been right: she was to
leave. Then she realized what the other woman had actually said.

‘You said “we”? Where
are we going?' she asked, looking at Mrs Bodney suspiciously.

‘I'll give you the details
on the morrow. If it was up to me, we'd leave straight away. However,
I've been advised that travelling overnight in these parts
with … well, let's just say it would be foolhardy.'

Completely bemused now, Lily stared at
her employer. ‘I don't—' she began, but Mrs Bodney cut her
short.

‘Lily, if you want to continue
working for me please take yourself upstairs and pack your things. Then I suggest
you get a good night's sleep. Travelling can be tiring, not to say tiresome,
and as our mission is confidential you are to tell nobody. Promise me?'

Knowing she was in no position to argue,
Lily nodded and took herself up to her room to pack. Going over to
the tin chest, she saw the pen and ink lying on top and wondered if she could take
them with her so that she could practise her letters. Deciding she'd better
not as they weren't hers to take, she placed them on the chair. Then, opening
the lid, she set her few possessions on the bed, tears welling as she saw her
mother's Bible and the bobbin Tom had fashioned to commemorate her pitifully
short life. The letter from Aunt Elizabeth crackled under her fingers as she stroked
it. Remembering the astonishing news it contained, she had a sudden desire to go to
see her. Of course she'd loved the people she'd always thought were her
parents, but now she yearned to find out where she'd come from.

Blinking back the tears, she noticed the
rays of the moon casting a silver pathway across her floor. Crossing to the
skylight, she stood looking up at the luminous sphere shining out of the inky
darkness. Why, she wondered, did everyone who mattered leave her?

But we are with you still, Lily. You carry us within your heart wherever you
go.

‘You're back, Father,'
she whispered, a sense of peace washing over her. He'd come when she needed
him. Then she remembered she was leaving here. ‘I've to go away
tomorrow, Father, but I don't know where. How will you know where to find me
for Samhain?'

Like I said, Lily, I'm with you always, watching over you, willing you to
choose the right path in life.

‘Oh, it's all so
complicated,' she whispered.

Be true to yourself, Lily. Remember, peasants never compromise their
principles.

His voice faded, and she knew he'd
gone. But he'd left
her with a warm feeling of optimism and
she was pleased she hadn't compromised her principles. Wiping away the tears
that were flowing freely down her cheeks, she finished her packing then, exhausted,
collapsed into bed.

Making her way downstairs at first
light, she saw the hallway was busy with activity. Despite the early hour, parcels
were already loaded on a carriage that was drawn up outside.

‘Ah, Lily, there you are. Hand the
driver your bag, then go and sit in the carriage. We will be leaving shortly.
Driver, be careful with those packages. The cost of any damage will be docked from
your wage,' Mrs Bodney warned, shaking her finger at him. Seeing his indignant
look, Lily hastily stepped up into the carriage. Then, as she settled back against
the squabs, she noticed that same peculiar scent in the air as she'd detected
in Rupert Mountsford's carriage.

‘We have a long journey ahead,
Lily,' Mrs Bodney said, climbing in beside her. ‘Driver, where are our
blankets?' she called, putting her head out of the window. ‘It's
perishing in here and if we expire, on your conscience be it.' Poor man, Lily
thought, as he dutifully handed blankets in to them, muttering under his breath. Her
employer, who could hear a pin dropping in her sleep, glared at him. ‘What are
you wittering about, man? Why would you need a short straw?'

Lily stifled a grin and busied herself
with the rough horsehair cover, but Mrs Bodney was still fussing. ‘Do get a
move on, driver. I've arranged to break our fast at the coaching house on the
Sidmouth Road, and at this rate it will be supper time before we get
there.'

The slamming of the
door was his only response. There was a thud as he climbed onto his box, then gave a
shout to the horses, and the carriage began to move.

Watching the familiar rolling hills pass
by the window as they climbed steadily out of the hamlet of Bransbeer, Lily wondered
where they were headed. She was dying to ask Mrs Bodney, but the motion of the
carriage seemed to have sent her employer to sleep. Her eyes were tightly shut and
Lily couldn't help noticing that she was as white as the foam on the
waves.

As she became used to the rocking motion
of the carriage, Lily could feel excitement bubbling up inside her. The visit from
her father had settled her and she was feeling cheerful again this morning. If Mrs
Bodney was taking Lily with her, wherever that might be, it must mean she still had
work to do. She couldn't help wondering about the others, though. Did they
still have work? If so, who was going to supervise them? All this thinking was
making her weary and before long her eyelids began to droop. She must have slept,
for the next thing she knew Mrs Bodney was shaking her arm.

‘Come along, Lily. What a time to
go to sleep,' her employer remonstrated. Lily started to protest but Mrs
Bodney was already climbing from the carriage, shouting to the driver that he
wasn't to take his eyes off her packages or his life wouldn't be worth
living.

‘It ain't now,' he
grunted, unhitching the horses and leading them towards the stables.

The coaching house was basic, but clean.
Spotting the welcome glow of a fire blazing in the grate, Lily moved towards it,
thinking to warm her hands. Mrs Bodney
frowned, shook her head and
marched over to the woman standing behind the bar.

‘Room reserved in the name of
Bodney and a hot meal ordered,' she announced. If the other woman was
surprised by her terse address, she was too polite to show it.

‘Morning, Mrs Bodney. Yer
room's all ready and waiting, if yer'd like to follow me,' she
said, her respectful tones seeming to mollify Mrs Bodney somewhat. The room they
were shown into was smaller but comfortable, with a table set for two in the bay of
the window.

‘There's water in the jug
for yer to refresh yerselves and I'll send Annie in with yer food
shortly.'

‘Thank you. We are travelling a
long distance and, as time is of the essence, please be quick in serving our
food.'

The woman nodded and left.

They'd barely had time to rinse
their face and hands and tidy themselves up when there was a timid knock on the
door. A young girl, struggling under the weight of a laden tray, appeared in the
doorway. Lily got up to help but Mrs Bodney frowned, ordering her to be seated.

‘We are paying guests, Lily;
please remember that,' she hissed. Biting down her frustration, Lily did as
she was told, watching helplessly as the trembling girl set down plates of ham and
eggs in front of them. She looked no more than eight, and seemed so ill at ease that
Lily felt she could almost reach out and touch her fear. Tea cups rattled on their
saucers as she placed them on the table, and her hands shook as she attempted to set
down a jug that was filled to the brim.

‘Mind you don't spill
that,' Mrs Bodney exclaimed,
making the poor girl jump so
that milk slopped over onto the cloth. As she stood there staring wide-eyed,
Lily's heart went out to her and, ignoring her employer's order, she
jumped up to help.