The Royal Lacemaker

by Linda Finlay

  ‘But what can we do to help?’ she asked.

  Her aunt smiled. ‘Actually, an idea did occur to me when I was speaking to my brother earlier,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, what was that?’ Lily asked.

  ‘I thought it would be good for Rob to learn a new trade and my brother agreed. But nothing can be decided until he and Rob have had a discussion. I can’t say anything more,’ she said, yawning. Gathering up the lace work and thread Lily had given her, she got to her feet. ‘It has been a tiring day so I’ll be away down to Grace’s to check on young Beth and then I hope to get some sleep.’

  ‘Thank you, Aunt Elizabeth, for all you’ve done for us. I don’t know how we’d have managed without you.’ Impulsively Lily threw her arms around the woman and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Oh, get away with you,’ Aunt Elizabeth clucked, flushing with pleasure. ‘But just you think hard about your own future, young Lily,’ she said, wagging her finger as she left.

  ‘All well between you and Rob again then?’ Tom asked, coming into the room a few moments later.

  ‘Yes, thank heavens,’ she said, smiling with relief.

  ‘He’s still worrying about the eviction,’ Tom said frowning.

  ‘So Auntie was saying. Look, Tom, my head’s spinning like a top and I can’t think straight at the moment.’

  ‘Poor thing, it’s been quite a day, hasn’t it? I know you’ll never forget your mother but I wanted to make you something particular to remember her by,’ he said, flushing as he handed her a small package.

  She opened the brown paper, and carefully folded back the small piece of linen within, then had to blink back the tears when she saw the bobbin he’d fashioned out of fish bone. It was delicately etched with the name of her mother, Sarah Rose, and the dates July 1802–May 1839, her pitifully short life span.

  ‘Thank you, Tom, I’ll treasure it always,’ Lily whispered, trying to swallow the lump that was threatening to choke her. ‘I’ll keep it with the one you made for our betrothal.’

  ‘Well, we’ve been stepping out for over a year now and I’m still working hard to get you that ring, like I promised. Then everyone will know you’re my intended.’

  ‘Oh, Tom, they know already. Anyway, it’s you that matters to me, not fancy baubles.’

  ‘It’s important to me that you have a betrothal ring, Lily,’ he said firmly.

  ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ she said, anxious to break the tension.

  The mizzle of earlier had cleared and the afternoon air smelled fresh. Swallows swooped low, catching insects, and the crickets were chirping in the meadow. Everything seemed normal, and yet everything was different.

  ‘It’s strange to think we won’t be living here after next month,’ she said, sighing.

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to get a pass from the squire to come visiting,’ Tom teased. She tensed. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?

  ‘There’ll be no need for that, Tom. Oh, don’t worry,’ she added quickly, seeing his sharp look. ‘I have an alternative plan.’ And she vowed she would make enquiries as soon as she returned to Bransbeer.

  ‘Oh?’ he asked, breaking away from her and frowning.

  ‘Now I’ve been made up to overseer it will make sense to live near to where I’m working. This is a fine opportunity to earn extra money for our wedding.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but you’re being evicted in less than a month and if you’re not careful you’ll all be out on the streets, Lily.’ She suppressed a shudder. ‘Remember, this job, however good, is only temporary,’ he added.

  ‘It’s for six months and I can always find another position after that. The status of overseer is far superior to that of a maid in service. Why, it could set me up for the future,’ she declared.

  ‘Pardon me, your ladyship. I suppose you’ll not be wishing to walk out with a humble fisherman now,’ he mocked.

  ‘Idiot,’ she said, laughing as she linked her arm through his. ‘You know I love you and the extra money means we can marry as soon as I’m out of mourning.’

  ‘Lily, love, that’s a wonderful idea but the little extra you’ll be getting won’t make that much difference,’ he scoffed.

  Irritated by his condescending attitude, she stopped walking and turned to face him. With great delight, she told him just how much she was now earning. His eyes widened in surprise and he stood there gaping like a freshly caught fish.

  ‘Come along or we’ll never reach the water,’ she said, laughing.

  They continued on their way, but Tom remained quiet, seemingly lost in thought. Then, reaching the cliff edge, they stood side by side gazing at the huge rollers breaking on the beach below. Although it had been sad to lay her mother to rest, Lily couldn’t help feeling she was now at peace and hoped that she and her father had indeed been reunited.

  The setting sun was painting the bay a glorious riot of gold and scarlet. Lily closed her eyes and wished that their future would be as rosy as the scene before them. It was some moments before she noticed Tom was still unusually quiet.

  ‘Farthing for them?’ she asked.

  He grinned wryly. ‘Funnily enough, it’s money I’m thinking about. Simon’s been finding it hard managing the lobster pots now his feet are bad, so I’ve taken them over. I was hoping the extra would help with our wedding, but even now, I’ll not be earning anything like you, Lily.’

  ‘So?’ she demanded, puzzled.

  ‘So, it means you’ll be bringing in more than me, and that’s something my pride won’t allow. It’s the husband’s duty to provide, so I guess I’ll just have to come up with a way of earning even more.’

  ‘But you work all the hours as it is, Tom.’

  ‘But it isn’t enough, is it?’ he insisted, his voice louder and echoing off the cliffs.

  ‘Surely, it doesn’t matter who brings in the money? It will all go into the pot, won’t it? A lobster pot, even,’ she said, laughing up at him. But, for once, he remained serious.

  ‘It matters to me Lily,’ he said firmly. ‘Especially as you seem to have developed a taste for wearing finely fashioned gowns. Though I must say, it does make you look right comely.’ Lily opened her mouth to say that it was one Mrs Bodney had lent her, but Tom was speaking again. ‘Anyway, I’d better be on my way, tide’s early tomorrow.’

  Watching as he strode down the path towards Bransbeer, she sighed. She knew he was a proud man, but surely it didn’t matter a prawn who earned the most? He was so old-fashioned.

  The sun had finally dipped behind the horizon, but it wasn’t only the gathering shadows that caused her to shiver. What did her future hold? She so wanted to continue working for Mrs Bodney, she just had to find suitable lodgings she could afford. Of course, the choice seemed easy to him but he didn’t realize the consequences if she went into service. She could remember her father telling her you didn’t get anything for nothing in this life. Well, she wasn’t afraid of hard work, but surely she had the right to choose where she did it, and for whom?

  CHAPTER 10

  Entering the workroom the next morning, Lily set about uncovering the pillows, keen to have everything ready for the ladies’ arrival, for she knew each minute saved was an extra minute’s lace making. She also wanted to inspect the work they’d done in her absence, but as she looked down at the lace pinned up on the first pillow, a frown creased her face. It was in exactly the same state as it had been when she’d left to go to the funeral. Quickly she moved to the next pillow, then the next, her frown deepening. Unable to believe her eyes, she checked the pillows again, but not one sprig of lace had progressed.

  ‘Morning, Lily. How was the funeral?’ Mary asked, entering the room closely followed by the rest of the ladies, chattering together.

  ‘The funeral service went well, thank you, Mary, which is more than I can say about your work here. Will someone please tell me the meaning of this?’ she asked, pointing to their pillows.

  The room fell silent, as the puzzled ladies stared at her.
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  ‘Before I left, did I or did I not remind you of the quota you had to achieve before you took your leave?’ she asked. They nodded in agreement. ‘Is this another of your pranks?’ she asked, turning to Cora.

  ‘No!’ the girl protested, looking bewildered.

  ‘Then why has no progress been made?’

  The ladies looked at each other and then back to Lily.

  ‘Well?’ she asked, hearing her voice rising and fighting to control her emotions.

  As usual, it was Mary who spoke. ‘What’s wrong, Lily? We only did like we’d been told.’

  ‘What do you mean, you did as you were told …’ Lily began, but Nell butted in.

  ‘We just did what that lady said.’

  ‘What lady?’ Lily asked.

  ‘The one you sent to tell us the pattern had been changed and we was to go home,’ Nell said slowly, as if she was talking to a child.

  ‘But I didn’t send anyone. What was she called?’ Lily asked.

  ‘She didn’t say. Just said you’d told her to deliver the message straight away. As she was wearing a black veil and long black gloves, we guessed she’d come from the funeral.’

  Now it was Lily’s turned to look confused. Casting her mind back to the small group gathered in the church she was sure no one there had been wearing a black veil.

  ‘She spoke all genteel, like Mrs Bodney does when she receives the merchants,’ piped up Anna.

  ‘But I didn’t send anyone here and, as far as I know, no change has been made to the pattern. I’ll go and check with Mrs Bodney straight away,’ she said snatching up her shawl. ‘In the meantime, please get on with your work.’

  ‘Tilda, did you let a lady wearing a black veil into the workroom yesterday?’ she called out to the maid once she’d closed the workroom door.

  Startled, Tilda looked up from her duties and nodded.

  ‘You’ve been told that only Mrs Bodney and the lace makers are permitted to enter that room, Tilda, so explain yourself.’

  Looking scared now, the maid explained that the lady had told her that Lily had instructed her to speak to the workers.

  ‘Were you with her the whole time?’

  ‘Yes, but she was only here a moment.’

  ‘Did she look at the ladies’ work?’

  ‘Oh, no, she wasn’t interested in that at all. She just stood in the doorway and told them that as the pattern had been changed, you’d said they were to stop work straight away and go home. Then she rushed out like she’d been stung by a bee. Am I in trouble, miss?’ she asked, her lip wobbling.

  As Lily looked at the worried girl, she felt her anger evaporating.

  ‘No, Tilda,’ she sighed. ‘Tell me, is Mrs Bodney working at High House this morning?’

  ‘Yes, she is,’ she said, nodding frantically.

  ‘I’m going to see her right away. No one is to enter the workroom in my absence. Should anyone call, they are to wait in the parlour until I return. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Lily.’

  Rushing up the lane, her thoughts in turmoil, she didn’t see the women washing their clothes in the brook, or the parson waving to her from the church steps. She was in such a state that her breath was coming in noisy gasps by the time she reached High House. Rapping briskly on the door, she could hardly contain her anxiety.

  ‘Is something wrong, Lily? I trust all went well at the funeral?’ Mrs Bodney asked, as soon as the maid had withdrawn.

  ‘Yes, well, no. What I mean is …’

  ‘Calm yourself, Lily. Take a deep breath then start at the beginning. It’s the best way, I find.’

  ‘Mrs Bodney, something terrible has happened. Whilst I was at my mother’s funeral, a stranger visited the workroom. She told the ladies that as the pattern had been changed, they were to stop work and go home immediately.’ There was a moment’s silence as the older lady digested what she’d said.

  ‘Well, the pattern’s certainly not been changed. Our dear Queen’s known the exact design she wanted from the start, I can assure you of that. Now, can you think of anyone who would want to put a bobbin in our works, so to speak?’

  There was only one person Lily could think of but he didn’t wear a veil. Anyway, as far as she was aware, it was only Lily he had it in for, so she held her tongue.

  ‘Well, if you do think of anyone, please let me know. Now you must make haste and get those ladies back to work. They will be well behind schedule but you may assure them they won’t have any money deducted from their wages provided they’ve recovered output by my next visit.’

  Back in the workroom, the concerned lace makers were relieved to hear they weren’t going to lose any of their much-needed money. As they were due to receive their first month’s wages shortly, they knew they’d have to work flat out to make up for all the time lost. Gloom descended upon the workroom like a blanket of sea fog.

  ‘I don’t mind staying on, but the trouble is, the later I’m away at night the more the kids play up,’ Anna muttered, and the others nodded in sympathy.

  ‘What about us cutting our noon break?’ Mary suggested. Lily knew Mrs Bodney wouldn’t approve but she couldn’t see any other solution.

  ‘Just until the schedule is back on track then,’ she agreed.

  For the rest of the day they worked as fast as they dared, fearful as ever of making mistakes, so that by the time she told them they could cover their pillows they were boggy eyed with tiredness. However, that didn’t stop them speculating as to who the mysterious lady with the veil had been as they hurried from the room.

  Lily watched them go, then, determined to start making up for the time she’d missed, resumed her work. It seemed only moments later that Tilda popped her head around the door.

  ‘Pardon me, Miss Lily, but Mr Mountsford wondered if you could spare him a moment. I’ve shown him through to the parlour.’

  ‘Thank you, Tilda. Tell him I’ll be with him shortly,’ she said, striving to keep her voice pleasant, for she really could do without any interruptions this evening. Stretching her back to ease her aching muscles, she straightened her cap and hurried through to the parlour.

  Rupert Mountsford rose to his feet, greeting her with such enthusiasm that she found her exasperation disappearing.

  ‘Miss Lily Rose, I hope I find you well?’

  ‘Indeed you do, Mr Mountsford. I trust you are keeping well yourself?’

  ‘Rupert – please call me Rupert,’ he insisted. That idea didn’t sit well with Lily at all, but Mrs Bodney had insisted she was to keep him happy when he visited.

  ‘Well, Rupert,’ Lily said, blushing as she stumbled over his name, ‘how may I help you? I’m afraid Mrs Bodney isn’t here at present but I’ll be happy to convey a message to her.’ She swallowed.

  ‘That’s most kind. However, I saw Mrs Bodney yesterday. The fact is, Lily … I may call you Lily?’

  She nodded, impatient for him to come to the point.

  ‘My business today took longer than anticipated and as it’s too late for me to begin my journey back to the city, I’ve decided to stay overnight at a hostelry nearby. I was wondering if you would do me the honour of joining me.’

  Shocked by his suggestion, her eyebrows shot right up to her cap and she could feel heat burning her cheeks.

  ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Mountsford, I can assure you I’m not …’ Outraged, she stammered to a halt.

  ‘Forgive me, Lily, I’ve been clumsy in my proposal. I was merely suggesting you might care to join me for a bite of supper. My carriage would convey you safely home afterwards.’

  ‘Oh,’ she muttered, looking down at the floor and thinking how stupid she was. ‘I thank you for the invitation, Mr Mountsford … erm, Rupert, but that will not be possible. We have experienced a delay here and I must work on this evening.’

  A glint hardened his eyes, but it was gone so quickly she thought perhaps she’d imagined it.

  ‘That is most unfortunate. Forgive my intrusion. I’ll detain you
no longer. Perhaps I shall be luckier on my next visit. Good evening, Lily.’ And with that he bowed and made his exit, remembering just in time to duck to avoid hitting his head on the door frame.

  Eager to make up the hours she’d lost and grateful for the longer hours of daylight the summer afforded, Lily worked on each evening after the others had left. By the end of the following week, although her lace had grown nicely, she thought that if she saw any more white thread she’d go crazy. It was a relief to tidy her things away that Saturday night, and after checking the workroom was neat for work to resume on Monday, she snatched up her shawl.

  Arriving at the stables, she was glad to find Doris in her usual place. Having hitched up the cart, she was about to climb in when something caught her eye. Lying on the seat was a black veil and a black glove. Remembering the visitor to the workroom, she shivered. Whoever had placed them here obviously knew this was her donkey-cart and was expecting her to find them. But why only the one glove? she thought peering around. The cobbled yard, however, was empty.

  In church the following morning, Lily looked to see if there were any strangers present. Suddenly a ripple of excitement ran around the congregation and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Squire Clinsden ushering his wife into their family pew. What were they doing here, she wondered. Usually they graced the village church only when propriety dictated, preferring instead to worship in the far grander cathedral of Exeter.

  All through the service she could feel the squire’s eyes upon her. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t refrain from glancing up over her hymnal at him. Two hazel eyes mocked her back and his thin lips twisted into a leer, making her feel so sick she could hardly concentrate for the rest of the service.

  As the final blessing was given, the Squire and Lady Clinsden rose and swept regally up the aisle. The parson hurried after them, bowing and thanking them for honouring his service with their presence. Aunt Elizabeth was busy talking to Grace and didn’t notice that Lily hadn’t followed them out. She was hoping that if she waited the squire would have left, but to her horror, he was waiting for her by the yew tree opposite the lich-gate.