Encouraged, he’d convinced Lord Godolphin to plant a row of trees along the walk from the estate gates to the front entrance. Of course, as soon as she heard about it, Lady Stormont insisted on doing the same at Rosebriar. The added bonus to his income was welcome, but the real reward to him was that he no longer got lost going to either of the estates.
Chapter Fourteen
It was once again market day. November mornings were chilly, so Selina wrapped an extra shawl under her cloak, donned her hat, and made her way to the marketplace. She’d been so busy filling orders the past week she’d had no time to shop or to even cook. She’d subsisted on nothing but tea and biscuits for the last two days.
Market day in Highgate was a festive occasion, with most of its residents meeting in one place. Since she spent most of her time alone, she treasured the opportunity to talk to the vendors, and by shopping earlier in the day, she could avoid the crush of shoppers.
First, she stopped at the linen draper to purchase supplies for the extra orders that had come in that week. She also made arrangements for extra firewood to be delivered. At the rate orders continued to come in, she’d be able to keep herself fed and warm through the winter, even if the shop was empty after Christmas.
After that, she made other small purchases, saving plenty of room in her basket for whatever Mrs. Pennywinkle had to sell.
The elderly woman greeted her with a wan smile. She seemed thinner, and again Selina’s heart ached that she wasn’t able to do more for the woman who’d done so much for her. She purchased as much as she could carry, and stayed to chat.
“Good morning, Mrs. Davison. Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
The low timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. The sensation was quickly replaced by one of mortification. She was no silly young debutante, for heaven’s sake. She was a widow, and she needed to behave in a manner appropriate to her station.
She pasted on a pleasant smile and faced him. “Good morning, Mr. Benton. It most certainly is a lovely day.” She gestured toward her old friend. “Mrs. Pennywinkle and I were just remarking how considerate the skies were to avoid raining down on the marketplace today.”
He cast a sincere smile at the older woman. “Good morning to you, Mrs. Pennywinkle. I hope the good weather encourages the shoppers to purchase from you.”
It was Mrs. Pennywinkle’s turn to laugh. “How kind of you to say so, sir, but the shoppers only come to me when the bigger venders run out. Or if they’ve known me from long ago and take pity on me.” She took Selina’s hand.
He looked as if he would say more, but his response was interrupted when a child’s voice rang out. “Mister Benton, the wool you want is in that shop over there.” A young boy of about ten years stood nearby, pointing at the dry goods store. “The lady won’t let me bring it to you. Said you have to come in and pay for it first.”
“Thank you, Timothy,” James replied. “I understand the owner’s reluctance to let you take it. Perhaps you can show me where you found it in the shop.”
“You’re buying wool?” Selina asked.
“I’m building that model of the cat pergola,” he explained. “The wool—”
“—is for the cat hair. Excellent idea.” She looked down at the boy, who’d stepped closer. “Is Timothy your assistant today?”
“Yes, m’lady,” the boy replied. “I’m to make sure Mister Benton finds his way to the shop and back to Nettlebloom before the day is done.”
She noted James’ heightened color and hid a smile. “That’s quite a serious responsibility. I’m sure Mr. Benton appreciates your assistance.”
The boy drew himself up proudly. “My father is head stable master at Nettlebloom. I know every inch of this village, because I’ve ridden with him everywhere.”
“Wonderful,” she replied. “Do you assist your father, too?”
The boy’s face clouded. “No, he says I’m too young to drive or help with the horses. Mostly I help clean the stables, or help Mum inside the house when she’s busy. So I was happy when he told me to help Mr. Benton here, because I know where things are and I never get lost.”
“Timothy has been indispensable to me the last few days,” James supplied. “With his help I quickly gathered all the supplies I needed, and the model was assembled in no time. Now we need paint and wool to finish it.” He reached over and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Timothy has also educated me about many of Highgate’s residents and customs.”
Selina imagined the education consisted of much local gossip. Mr. Benton apparently had a lot of patience to indulge the boy. She could imagine him working with the little boy by his side, chatting away.
“Excellent, Timothy. And did Mr. Benton educate you about building?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. He promised that when we’re done with this thing, he’ll help me build a little house for my dogs, so’s they won’t freeze in the winter.”
What a kind man he is. So patient with Timothy, making him feel important. “I’m glad he has you to guide him, and I’m sure your dogs will appreciate their house.”
The group bid each other a good day, and James followed the boy to the dry goods shop, chatting with him in a friendly manner as they walked. Most of the men in her experience wouldn’t have spoken so kindly to a child.
“A fine man, he is. Not at all like his father.” Mrs. Pennywinkle’s sharp eyes followed the man and boy’s progress across the market.
“You know his family?”
“Of course. My sister Anna and her husband worked for Lord Sutton. He wasn’t exactly a bad man, but he didn’t pay attention to his family. Let his wife make all the decisions, and she terrorized the staff. Spent all her time promoting her son, the heir, and her spoiled daughter, and ignored poor James. Anna’s husband Ralph was the gardener, and the two of them used to sneak little James treats after his family had been cruel to him.”
“How could they treat him so badly?”
“He was different. He didn’t care about nice clothes and meeting the right people. He preferred to be outdoors with Ralph. And the poor lad could never find his way around a city. He was fine outdoors at the country estate, but he was like a lost babe in the city.” She turned her bright blue eyes toward Selina. “You two would be good for each other.”
She remembered her grandfather as someone to be feared, not loved. Her own father had been more gentle, but distant. What kind of father would James be?
Why am I thinking of him as a father?
The question plagued her all the way back to her shop.
Chapter Fifteen
Finally the model pavilion was finished. He had to admit the face at the top of his miniature gazebo was a good likeness of Edwina, Lady Stormont’s precious cat. The roof came to a slight pitch, giving the cat a hunched back, as if she would at any moment pounce. The cat’s legs formed the four posts at each corner of the roof. The wool James and Timothy had purchased at the market worked perfectly for fur. Edwina’s head had been a challenge. James had carved the head out of a block of pine, painted it with his best recollection of the cat’s haughty expression, and arranged a bit of wool around it.
He’d sent a message to Rosebriar requesting another audience with Lady Stormont. Timothy had delivered the message and returned quickly with a reply from the viscountess telling him to come the following afternoon.
He’d worried about how he would get the model to Rosebriar, but the ever resourceful Timothy obtained permission from his father to borrow the family’s wagon. Together, they loaded the miniature pavilion. James then walked around to the front, where the young boy had settled on the bench seat.
“You’re coming with me?”
Timothy grinned. “Papa wants the wagon back today, so’s he told me to ride with you and point the way.”
James felt his face heat, but he couldn’t fault the stable master’s reasoning. All he could do was nod and climb in.
James resisted the urge to laugh at Cecil’s expression w
hen he opened the door to Rosebriar. The unflappable servant’s jaw had dropped, probably due to his early arrival. Timothy had already driven his father’s wagon around to the rear, where he would wait until James’ meeting with the viscountess was over.
He carried his model toward the sitting room, where Lady Stormont carried on a heated argument with Edwina. To be truthful, Lady Stormont did all the arguing. The cat ignored her from her perch on the sofa, occasionally swatting at an imaginary mouse. Scattered all around were cat-sized ball gowns in various hues and miniature tiaras.
“The artist is coming tomorrow to begin your portrait, and you haven’t yet chosen your gown. Surely you don’t expect to pose unclothed?”
Cecil cleared his throat, catching the viscountess’ attention. James ducked back out of her line of vision.
“My lady, Mr. Benton is here for his appointment. Shall I direct him to the library until I... straighten up?”
“Oh! No, Cecil. Just show him in. Perhaps he’ll be able to persuade Edwina to select a gown.”
James doubted he would be able to do any such thing, but the model gazebo weighed heavily in his arms and he longed to set it down.
“Very good, my lady.” Cecil stepped out, gesturing for James to enter.
The viscountess clapped with happiness when James set the model on the floor. “Oh, my, Mr. Benton, what a perfect likeness of Edwina! You are truly an artist. I saw the chalk drawing of the gardens that you made at Lady Wentworth’s home, and someday I’d like to commission you to make a drawing for me. But this — this is a true tribute to Edwina.” Turning to the cat, she added, “Don’t you think so, darling?”
As usual, the cat ignored her.
Lady Stormont stepped to the sofa, scooped up the cat, and set her down in front of the little structure. “There you are. A little Edwina sanctuary. Isn’t that lovely?”
Edwina turned her head away, apparently determined to not enjoy anything her mistress wanted her to.
But the lady continued her cajoling. “Oh, come now, darling. Mr. Benton created this just for you. And he can make a people-sized version of it, too!”
The cat finally turned her head, as if to protest having to show any attention to whatever it was her mistress raved about. But as soon as she stared into the eyes of her wooden likeness, she hissed and then raced to hide behind the curtains, climbing up the inside all the way to the top.
“Edwina, my dear, whatever is the matter?” The viscountess wrung her hands, ready to follow, but clearly she couldn’t reach her furry companion. “Cecil, you must save Edwina. She could suffocate in the drapery.”
James held back a smile as the servant tried to hide his grimace. The man simply nodded, fetched a ladder, and went to work.
Ten minutes later, the cat was back in her mistress’ arms, but she still refused to look at, much less enter, the cat pavilion. She resolutely kept her face turned away from it.
“Edwina, darling, surely you can tell me why you dislike this new playhouse. It looks just like you. See, Mr. Benton put your face at the top.”
And that’s the trouble, thought James. I wouldn’t want to go into a building that looks like me. But perhaps Lady Stormont didn’t have any such fears.
“Err, perhaps Edwina views entering the cat-house as… being consumed by another cat?”
Lady Stormont paused in petting the cat and looked up, her eyes wide. “Oh, dear. I never thought of that. Well, I suppose if she won’t go in this model, she won’t like the full-size version either.” She furrowed her brow. “I’d still like it to be something unique, though. Perhaps... a mushroom?”
James nodded, ready to agree to anything less batty than a monument to a pet. “Yes, my lady. I can do a mushroom.”
Chapter Sixteen
New orders continued to arrive daily at Davison’s Millinery. The excitement for Selina’s flower-covered hats had been bolstered by the announcement of Lady Stormont’s fête to celebrate the opening of the winter garden at Nettlebloom.
She’d finished her current orders and decided to close her shop early to make an afternoon visit to the market. She found Mrs. Pennywinkle and filled her basket. Around them, the marketplace hummed with people preparing for the holiday. This was her favorite time of year, when the sights, sounds, and smells all around her exuded happiness. The early December chill seemed to energize the Highgate population. Merchants sold hot drinks, roasted nuts, and dried fruits. In other stalls, hand-crafted items vied for shoppers’ attention.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Davison. And to you too, Mrs. Pennywinkle.” The deep voice rumbled from a point above her right ear, and she took a moment to compose herself before turning to greet the speaker.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Benton. Are you on your way to Nettlebloom or Rosebriar today?”
He grinned. “Neither. I’m on my way back to my townhouse from Nettlebloom. Have I veered far from the course?”
She laughed. “Not far. I take it the holiday marketplace distracted you away from the high street?”
He sighed. “Perhaps. My mind was focused on the holiday and the fact that I have yet to find gifts for my family.”
It was her turn to sigh. “I remember how much fun I had choosing gifts. My family was small, just my parents and me, but I always looked forward to seeing Mama and Papa’s faces when they opened the things I’d made or picked out for them.” She blinked away a tear. “I miss that.” Taking a reinforcing breath, she offered a shaky smile. “I’m finished with my shopping today. If you don’t need anything from the market, I’ll direct you to your home, and we can discuss your gift needs. Perhaps if we put our minds together, we can arrive at a solution.”
“Excellent idea. I accept your offer.” They both bid Mrs. Pennywinkle goodbye. Then she took his arm, and they made their way to North Hill Street. The sunlight had already begun to wane, deepening the colors around them to a rich hue.
“Tell me about your family gatherings. What sorts of things does your mother enjoy?”
“Er, I’m not sure. She doesn’t play an instrument or sing, and she doesn’t paint or do needlework.”
“Hmm. Does she belong to any clubs? A literary society or garden club?”
“She belonged to a garden club for a short time, but discovered she didn’t have a knack for making things grow. It was much easier to have the gardener or me take care of her projects. I think she enjoys the end product much more than the process of growing them.”
“So she likes flowers?”
“Very much. For her birthday in the summer, I can bring her flowers, but at Christmas, my choices are quite limited. In past years I’ve given her bushes of holly, trees for her yard, wreaths and boughs for decoration inside the house.”
“What if you were to give her summertime blossoms?”
“She would be elated. But how would I do that?”
“I happen to know someone who makes flowers out of silk. Normally, the flowers are placed on hats, but if they were placed on wire and bundled together—”
“—they would be a bouquet of her favorite flowers. That’s a brilliant idea. Are you sure you, er, your friend would have time to take on such a project before Christmas? I know ladies like to purchase new hats for the holidays.”
“I happen to know that she currently has time in her schedule, as she has just this morning completed her current orders.”
“Then I would like to place my order for a bouquet of daffodils. I recall Mother once stating they were her favorites.”
“Very good. Now what about the rest of your family? Are there any other women who might need a bouquet?”
“My brother’s wife, perhaps. She seems to enjoy bright colors, so perhaps a smaller bunch of clematis would appeal to her.”
“Excellent choice. I’ll send a message to your house when the order is complete.”
They’d reached his townhouse. “I am indebted to you, Mrs. Davison. I’m sure I can choose gifts for my father and brother, but I was at a total loss for
my mother and sister-in-law. I know they will enjoy their silk bouquets. I will be happy to pay whatever amount you charge.” He looked up at his doorway. “This is my destination. I should escort you to yours.”
“It’s not necessary, Mr. Benton. I’m just around this corner. The sun hasn’t set yet, and I have nothing to fear in this neighborhood.”
He shook his head. “That wouldn’t be right. It’s nearly dark, and I can’t in good conscience allow you to make the trip alone. I need to see you safely to your door.”
She chuckled softly. “I appreciate your gallantry. It’s been a long time since anyone felt the need to look out for me. If you like, you can come to the corner and watch until I reach my doorstep. Then you will still be able to see your house when you turn around.”
They walked together to the corner, where she let go of his arm and waved good-bye. She continued to her shop, acutely aware of his watchful stare as she walked away from him.
Chapter Seventeen
“I walked through the garden yesterday and was simply enchanted,” Lady Stormont declared. “The mushroom pavilion in the center is perfect.”
“Yes,” Godolphin agreed. “This garden will be the toast of England.”
“Thank you, my lord, my lady. I’m pleased the project meets with your approval.” James accepted a teacup from the viscountess and selected a small treat from the well-appointed tray. He took small bites and chewed deliberately, not wanting to appear as hungry as he felt.
The winter garden was complete, and the members of the Royal Horticultural Society had taken their first tour. Now they all gathered for tea at Rosebriar. James was content to stay on the periphery and listen to the society members’ impressions. Thankfully, the overall reaction seemed positive.
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