The Royal Lacemaker (35 page)

‘You go on now and I'll pour
our tea,' she said, smiling at her. The girl didn't need telling twice
and scuttled out of the room.

Mrs Bodney, eyes blazing, turned to
Lily. ‘How dare you disobey me? That girl's nothing but a paid
servant.'

‘As am I, Mrs Bodney,' she
retorted, unable to contain her fury any longer.

‘I hardly think you can compare
yourself to a wench who serves at tables,' the other woman snorted.

Furious at her high-handed attitude,
Lily replied heatedly, ‘I used to serve at the squire's table and Lady
Clinsden never once spoke to me in such a condescending manner. But then I guess she
has breeding,' she added for good measure.

Mrs Bodney's cheeks flushed as red
as the flames in the grate and the room fell silent as the two women glared at each
other across the table.

‘If you've quite finished,
Lily, I suggest we break our fast,' Mrs Bodney finally said, picking up her
knife and fork. ‘I've no intention of wasting good food, or my
hard-earned money,' she added.

Lily watched as the other woman began
tucking into her meal, then shrugged and did likewise. They ate in silence, but the
thickly cut ham was so delicious Lily hardly noticed the awkwardness. When
they'd finished their meal, Mrs Bodney sat stirring her tea thoughtfully.

Finally, she looked up, asking,
‘Feeling better now, Lily?'

‘I enjoyed my meal, thank
you,' she answered carefully.

‘Your diplomacy does you credit,
Lily,' said her employer, smiling briefly. ‘Before we continue our
journey, I want you to understand something. When you run a business, it becomes
second nature to ensure everyone works efficiently. The old adage of time being
money is still true today. When you have your own enterprise you will understand
what I mean.'

‘That's hardly likely to
happen,' spluttered Lily, looking incredulously at her employer.

‘Well, I understand from Lady
Clinsden that you suggested it might be a good idea for her to have some lace
collars and cuffs made so that she can attach them to her dresses and change their
appearance without upsetting her husband.'

‘I offered to
make her some, yes.'

‘And, she liked your suggestion
and is commissioning you to make them when you have completed the lace for the
Queen. Lily, you spotted a business opportunity that I did not, and believe you me,
it's rare for me to miss one. With initiative like that, you could become a
successful business trader yourself.'

‘Well, even if I did, I would
never be offensive to people who were trying to do their job,' Lily
retorted.

‘If I was a bit abrupt with that
young girl it was because she was being sloppy; a trait I cannot abide,' Mrs
Bodney added, as if that explained everything.

‘What about the poor coach
driver?' Lily couldn't help asking. ‘You were rude to
him.'

The other woman sighed. ‘If you
realized what a responsibility it is ensuring the Queen's lace is safely
transported, then you might understand my anxiety. Now come along, we've still
a fair journey ahead of us.' Rising to her feet, she hurried from the room,
leaving Lily no choice but to follow. However, she couldn't help smiling when,
after settling the bill, her employer tossed a coin onto the bar.

‘A tip for the young waitress
girl; please see that she gets it,' she ordered, before sweeping outside.

The sun was peeping above Peak Hill,
tinging its slopes with an orange hue. The air felt raw and a strong wind was
blowing russet leaves from the trees in swathes. Shivering, Lily pulled her shawl
tighter round her as they hastened back to the carriage. The driver was standing
joking with the ostlers, but his laughter quickly changed to a grimace when he saw
them approaching. Raising his eyebrows at
the others, he sauntered
over to the carriage and dutifully held the door open for them.

‘Thank you, my good man,'
Mrs Bodney said, stepping inside. His jaw dropped in surprise, and Lily had to turn
her head to hide another grin. But then her employer, reverting to type, snapped,
‘I trust you've looked after my precious parcels, driver?'

‘Wouldn't dare do anything
else,' he muttered before jumping onto his box and snatching up the reins.
Lily groaned inwardly then settled back on the squabs, wrinkling her nose at the
unfamiliar smell that still pervaded the interior. She was about to ask Mrs Bodney
what it was when the other woman spoke.

‘You know, Lily, you remind me of
myself a few years ago.'

‘Oh?' Lily said in surprise,
undecided if this was a good thing or not.

‘I wasn't afraid to tell
people what I thought either. Not that you would have dared to do so when you first
started working for me. Quite the shy little thing, you were then. You've come
a long way in, what is it, five months or so?'

‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney,' she
answered, not sure she liked being compared to her employer.

‘Mind you, I wouldn't have
sat there half the morning without demanding to know where I was going or
why,' she continued, giving Lily a conspiratorial grin.

Lily was relaxing back in her seat,
thinking that perhaps her employer wasn't so bad after all, when the carriage
hit a rut. It jolted her forward so forcefully, her cap slipped down over her
forehead.

‘For heaven's sake do
something with your appearance,'
Mrs Bodney snapped, opening
her bag and handing Lily a hat pin. ‘Here, use this until your hair grows. I
don't want the others thinking I've brought a scarecrow from the country
fields with me.'

‘The others?' she asked,
carefully fixing the pin through her cap and into her hair, so that it didn't
prick her scalp.

‘Yes, the women you will be
working with. All those sprigs you've made need to be sewn together to form
the flounce around Her Majesty's dress. It's to measure four yards in
circumference. Can you imagine?' she asked, shaking her head.

‘Oh,' was all Lily could
say, as she sat there trying to envisage such a thing.

‘Then there's the veil, the
collar, cuff edgings and all manner of adornments to be stitched and attached to the
backing. I feel faint just thinking about it,' Mrs Bodney said, shaking her
head.

‘Where are we going to do all
that?' Lily couldn't resist asking.

‘Ah, curiosity at last.' Mrs
Bodney raised her eyebrow. ‘I have secured premises in Honiton.'

‘Honiton? But that's miles
away. Why can't we do this sewing up in the workroom?'

Mrs Bodney sighed. ‘Because it
wouldn't be big enough to accommodate the lace as it's joined together.
It's delicate work, which requires the skills of sewers and finishers.
Naturally, I have managed to secure the services of the finest in Devonshire.
Besides, Honiton is on the staging route to London. The Queen has instructed I take
the finished lace to the palace myself,' she added, as if that explained
everything.

‘How long will I
be away from Bransbeer?' Lily asked, an image of Tom flitting into her
mind.

‘Three weeks; maybe nearer a
month,' her employer answered. ‘As I've said before, the Queen
expects her commission to be fulfilled by St Catherine's Day, which is the
25th of November, as you know.'

‘But if I'm in Honiton, who
will oversee the ladies back at the workroom?' Finally, she was able to ask
the question that had been worrying her since they'd left Bransbeer.

‘As I said yesterday, the actual
lace making is all but finished. When I decided I'd be travelling to Honiton
today, I paid them their money and sent them home,' Mrs Bodney replied.

‘What? Even Mary?' Lily
asked with a pang.

‘Mary is staying to look after
things at my cottage in my absence,' Mrs Bodney said, smiling.
‘That's enough talking for now. We need to get as much rest as we can
manage in this rattling contraption, for we shall be exceedingly busy over the next
few weeks.' And with that, her employer settled back on the squabs, pulled her
cover over her, and closed her eyes.

As the carriage trundled its way through
the Devonshire lanes, Lily pondered on all Mrs Bodney had told her. Mary still had a
job and she herself had work for a few more weeks yet. Although her employer
hadn't said, this job in Honiton must surely include board and lodging for
they couldn't possibly travel all this way each day. She looked at Mrs Bodney,
who was now dead to the world, and smiled. Not only was this carriage quite
comfortable, it afforded them cover. She bet Mrs Bodney had never travelled in a
donkey-cart, open to the elements. Of course, Rupert
Mountsford's carriage had been plusher than this one, although in some ways
it did appear curiously similar. And it had that same Christmassy smell. She really
must remember to ask Mrs Bodney about it when she woke.

How much further was this Honiton, she
wondered, shading her eyes from the midday sun as she peered out of the window. The
passing countryside had the mellow air of autumn, despite the breeze blowing the
coppery leaves from the trees. She sighed, remembering how she and Tom had always
caught one to wish upon. Last year, when she'd failed to catch a leaf of her
own, he'd pretended to pluck one from her hair, insisting she'd caught
it fair and square. She saw that the hedgerows were still groaning under the weight
of luscious purple berries. Back in Coombe, they'd all have been picked and
turned into pies and jellies by now. She wondered if Tom's mother had baked
him his favourite bramble cobbler. The thought made her mouth water.

It had been wonderful seeing Tom again,
especially as he'd been like the old Tom she loved. How she wished she'd
had the opportunity to tell him she was going away. Round and round her thoughts
spun, like the wheels on the carriage, so that by the time they stopped to change
the horses, she felt quite worn out.

‘Come along, Lily, time for our
break,' her employer chirped, refreshed from her snooze. The driver opened the
door, looking warily at Mrs Bodney. But she smiled and thanked him so profusely he
stood there shaking his head, unable to comprehend the change in her demeanour.
Then, shrugging, he turned away to attend to the horses.

This hostelry was situated on the
outskirts of a town and looked smarter than the one they'd stopped at earlier.
They were shown into another private room, where they sat in
comfortable chairs by a roaring fire. As they tucked into plates of cold meats,
bread and pickles, followed by cake and hot sweet tea, Lily felt quite happy.

‘I could get used to living like
this,' she said, sighing contentedly as she sat back feeling replete.

‘Well, you had a taste of it at
the Harvest Supper,' Mrs Bodney pointed out.

‘Yes,' Lily said, shuddering
at the thought. ‘And I'd sooner be poor and principled than rich and
rootless with my affections,' she said firmly.

‘Bravo; well said, young Lily. I
rather think you will go far in this life. Now we'd best be on our
way.'

‘This Honiton is certainly some
distance from Bransbeer, isn't it?' Lily moaned, for she was comfortable
and would have preferred to remain by the fire.

‘Regrettably, owing to the
valuable merchandise we are carrying, the driver wouldn't risk travelling
across open country. It's tiresome having to travel the longer route, but
safety is paramount. Thank heavens Rupert honoured his promise to loan me one of his
carriages or we would be travelling by stagecoach,' she said, her expression
indicating she couldn't imagine anything more awful. Suddenly Lily understood
why the carriage seemed familiar and why it had the same smell.

‘May I ask you something, Mrs
Bodney?' she asked. The woman nodded. ‘I've noticed this strange
smell in Mr Mountsford's carriages that I can't quite place. Do you know
what it could be?'

‘I think it might be the spices
that Mr Mountsford transports back to London. Now come along, we must be
on our way,' Mrs Bodney answered, jumping to her feet and
heading for the door. Surprised at the other woman's abrupt departure, Lily
followed after her.

They returned to the carriage and
settled back against the squabs. With her employer soon asleep, Lily spent the rest
of the journey pondering on their earlier exchange. Mrs Bodney had been distinctly
uncomfortable when Lily had questioned her about the strange smell. In fact,
she'd had the same look as when Lily mentioned the packets Mr Mountsford left
for her on his visits. She couldn't help feeling it was somehow connected with
the activities on the beach that old Joe had mentioned.

Dusk was descending by the time they
arrived in Honiton, but Lily was hardly aware of her surroundings for as soon as the
carriage door was opened, a strong gust of wind threatened to blow her off her feet.
Revived from her rest, Mrs Bodney ushered her up the steps of a large town house,
ringing the bell impatiently. The door was quickly opened by a grey-haired woman
with thin lips, who stared at Lily suspiciously.

‘Maria?' Mrs Bodney said,
frowning. ‘I'm surprised to see you answering the door.'

‘I was just passing by when I
heard the bell. Thought it sounded urgent, the way it kept ringing,' she said
pointedly. ‘You'd best come in,' she added, somewhat grudgingly,
before disappearing up the stairs. As Lily stood in the hallway glancing around, a
stout, homely-looking woman bustled through to greet them.

‘Mrs Bodney, welcome. I trust your
journey was not too arduous.'