by Linda Finlay
At that moment the carriage tilted as it turned sharply into the lane and she clung on tightly, watching as the steeply pitched roofs of the almshouses flashed by the window. Then they turned again and she shook her head. This carriage was already travelling much faster than Doris ever did.
‘I wish Tom could see me,’ she said, looking down at the sea shimmering beneath the cliffs. Gulls screeched and wheeled on the breeze. ‘There’s his lugger pulled up by the fish hut.’ Rupert stared in the direction of her pointing finger. ‘That one with the white spars. He painted them so they’d show in the dark and no smugglers would want to use his boat,’ she said proudly.
Rupert looked quickly across at her but she was busy staring out of the window.
‘He’ll be going out to bait the pots soon,’ she added, and Rupert duly looked down at the boats drawn up on the beach.
‘Tom – he is a special friend?’ he asked.
‘Oh, Rupert, you know full well he’s my betrothed.’
‘Indeed?’ he asked, furrowing his dark eyebrows as he glanced down at her left hand. ‘Well, Lily, I must say that I’m surprised. If I were lucky enough to have such an attractive young lady as my betrothed, I’d want everyone to know she belonged to me.’
‘How would you do that?’ she asked, puzzled.
‘I’d buy her a ring with a stone as big and bright as her speedwell eyes,’ he replied, looking at her meaningfully.
She felt her cheeks burn and, cursing inwardly, turned to stare back out of the window. Would she never grow out of this childish blushing? Then, sensing he was waiting for her to respond, she turned back towards him.
‘Well, Tom and I don’t need showy baubles to seal our relationship,’ she retorted.
‘Sorry, Lily, I always seem to be putting my foot in it with you. Let’s just enjoy the ride, shall we?’ he asked, smiling.
She nodded, relaxing back on the leather squabs once more. Truth to tell she’d have been delighted if Tom had gone down on one knee and proffered a ring, but that was the stuff of fairy tales, wasn’t it? There again, he had said he was saving up for one. She didn’t think Rupert would understand, though. If he wanted something, he could probably just go and buy it.
They were cresting the cliffs, the dark red soil from the adjoining fields showing through the bright green of the early summer crops. The warmth from the sun shining through the window, combined with the gentle swaying motion, restored her equilibrium. But as they began their descent into Coombe, the carriage started to rock precariously from side to side. It was going too quickly for the rutted ground and the driver appeared to be having difficulty keeping the horses to the track. She peered out of the window and saw that he was using his whip vigorously. Feeling compelled to say something, she looked across at Rupert, who, seemingly unaware, was staring at the tumbledown cottages they were passing.
‘Good grief, just look at those topsy-turvy huts clinging to the cliffs,’ he said, grimacing. ‘Don’t tell me people really live in them?’
‘Yes, Rupert, they do, and they call them cotts or cottages,’ she said, sighing. ‘I guess all the houses in London are grander.’ But before he could answer, the coach lurched again, sending her sliding towards the other side of the carriage. Unable to stand it any longer, she shouted, ‘Look, I really don’t like the way your driver is whipping the horses. It’s not necessary.’
Surprised at her outburst, he stared at her for a long moment.
‘You’re right, of course, Lily,’ he agreed, pulling down the window and shouting to the driver to desist. However, they were now passing alongside a pigsty and hastily he put a hand up to cover his nose before snapping the window shut. Collapsing back on the squabs, he looked so affronted she had to stifle a giggle.
‘Good healthy smell of the country, that, Rupert,’ she couldn’t resist saying.
‘Yes, I see,’ he said politely, clearly not realizing she was pulling his leg.
Feeling a pang of remorse, for he was loaning her his carriage, she smiled sweetly at him.
‘Not much further now,’ she said, as they passed the church. Excitement bubbled as she looked out at the familiar scenery. ‘We’re here,’ she announced as they reached the orchard. Peering around, she could see no sign of the new tenant and, as Rupert shouted to the driver to stop, she got ready to jump out. But Rupert was staring from the muddy path leading to the barn down to his grey flannel trousers and shiny shoes.
‘You stay here,’ Lily laughed. ‘It will only take a moment to collect my things and my boots are used to the muck.’ Before he could answer, she jumped down from the carriage.
‘Good job we don’t still have our pig or the ground by the barn would be a quagmire,’ she couldn’t help shouting over her shoulder.
Rupert, however, was gingerly climbing down after her and staring aghast at the cottage, the lean-to linny and then the pig pen.
‘Did you really live in this ramshackle building?’ he asked in disbelief.
‘This was our home, and very happy we were here too,’ Lily retorted, marching towards the barn. Carefully picking his way around the puddles, Rupert followed after her.
‘Mind the rats,’ she warned, smiling to herself as he visibly paled. That would teach him to be rude about their family home. The barn door creaked as she pulled it open, and to her relief she saw her things safely stacked on the clean straw.
‘Is this all you have?’ he asked, staring at the small bundle that constituted her worldly goods.
She nodded. ‘Don’t need much to live,’ she said, picking it up, but he reached out and took it from her.
‘Here, allow me.’
‘Thank you, Rupert.’ She peered around, surprised not to see signs of activity. ‘Could I just have a quick look inside the cottage? I’d like to say goodbye.’ Understanding – or maybe sympathy – flashed in his eyes and he nodded.
‘Take as long as you need, Lily. I’ll wait in the carriage.’
Making her way round to the back, she lifted the latch, giving the door the necessary shove to open it. Slowly, she wandered through the cold, empty rooms, hearing the echoes of her childhood, remembering happier times. The fuss their parents had made of them on their birthdays and Christmas, with specially made cakes, fruit pies and a feast of succulent roast chicken or pork. Their living room would smell fragrant with cooking for hours after the meals had been eaten. Then there were the egg hunts at Easter, each child desperate to be first to find the biggest, which their mother would have coloured with onion skins. She could almost see Rob chasing her from room to room, hear their squeals of laughter. That was before the accident, of course.
She sighed, remembering her grandmother saying that a life took an age to live, yet the memory could skip down through the years in moments. She hadn’t understood what she meant at the time but she did now. Her chest tightened painfully and she feared she might choke.
‘Goodbye, Father, goodbye, Mother,’ she whispered. Then, blinking back the tears, she hurried outside. As she pulled the door shut for the last time, a skylark flew up from the adjoining field, its joyous song floating on the breeze. Vowing not to cry, she bit down hard on her lip and hurried back to the carriage.
Rupert smiled as she settled on her seat.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked gently, concern clouding his eyes, but she felt too emotional to speak. Nodding briefly, she turned and stared out of the window.
They travelled back through Coombe in silence, passing the church with the graveyard where her parents and siblings were buried, the rickety forge, red sandstone inn and cob cottages with smoke rising in plumes from their chimneys. Lost in her memories, she forgot Rupert was sitting opposite, until he reached over and gently covered her hand with his. Looking up, she caught a waft of lemony citrus from his cologne. It was quite pleasant, she thought, but a different smell from the one she’d noticed when she’d first got into the carriage. There was something reassuring about the warmth of his touch and she found herself starin
g in fascination at his silky smooth skin and neatly manicured nails. Such a contrast to Tom’s work-roughened hands, she thought. Guiltily she snatched her hand away. What was she doing letting another man touch her?
Rupert just smiled and said nothing.
It could have been minutes or hours before he broke the silence; Lily had completely lost track of time.
‘We’re nearly there now,’ he said, pointing out of the window. To her surprise, she saw the carriage was making its way up the main street of Bransbeer.
‘Will you be all right?’ he asked, as they drew to a halt outside the agent’s imposing premises. ‘I’m sure Mrs Bodney will understand if you need to partake of a little refreshment before you resume your duties, and I’d be delighted to escort you to the hostelry.’ At the mention of her employer’s name, Lily snapped back to the present.
‘Thank you, Rupert, but I have missed almost a morning’s work as it is.’
‘That’s as maybe, but I’m sure Mrs Bodney would permit you time to recover from what has obviously been an upsetting experience for you.’
Lily smiled at his understanding. ‘You have been most kind but I dare not neglect my duties. I appreciate your assistance, though. Perhaps, I could offer you afternoon tea once we are settled in our new place of work.’
‘Thank you. I’d like that,’ he said, beaming, and despite her recent low mood she found herself smiling back.
She was still grinning as she jumped down and went to collect her things from the driver, only to find her way blocked.
‘You’re looking mighty pleased with yourself.’
‘Tom, what are you doing here?’ she asked, her smile growing wider.
‘I might well ask you the same question, Lily Rose.’ The sharpness of his voice wiped the smile from her face.
‘Whatever’s wrong, Tom?’ she asked, noticing now the set of his jaw, fists clenched by his side.
‘Didn’t believe it, did I, when Molly came down to the boat as soon as we landed, shouting she’d seen you riding through the village in a posh carriage sat alongside your fancy man? Ran here as fast as I could and what do I see? That she was telling the truth, that’s what,’ he shouted.
‘But, Tom, Mr Mountsford kindly escorted me back to Coombe in the carriage to collect my things,’ she said, bemused.
‘Oh, so my arranging for the carter to pick them up wasn’t good enough for you?’ he growled, his eyes narrowing.
Before she could reply Rupert appeared at her side, asking, ‘Is something wrong, Lily?’ Realizing they were now drawing curious stares from passers-by, she shook her head and forced a smile.
‘No, everything is fine, thank you, Mr Mountsford. I was just explaining to Tom how you kindly escorted me back to Coombe this morning so that I could collect my things.’ She turned to Tom.
‘Wasn’t that kind of Mr Mountsford, Tom?’
But he was too busy glaring at Rupert to respond.
At that moment, Mrs Bodney’s strident voice cut through the crowd that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.
‘Miss Rose, come inside immediately.’ Turning quickly, Lily saw the furious look on her employer’s face and groaned. Muttering to Tom that she’d see him later and nodding to Rupert, she grabbed her bundle from the driver and hurried after the irate woman. She was for it now.
‘Well, Lily, what excuse can you possibly have for making such an exhibition of yourself in public?’ As Lily looked into the formidable face of Mrs Bodney, her legs began to tremble and she was grateful for the cover her long dress afforded.
‘There was a slight misunderstanding, Mrs Bodney.’
‘It looked more than that to me. I’m a respectable businesswoman, Lily, and cannot – no, I will not – have my overseer causing such a disturbance in the street.’
‘But I …’ Lily was shaking all over now and was afraid if she didn’t soon sit down, she’d fall down.
‘There are no buts, Miss Rose,’ Mrs Bodney said, banging her fist on the table. Bobbins crashed to the floor and Lily watched helplessly as they scattered in all directions, their threads unravelling on the stone flags. She waited for Mrs Bodney to rant about them getting dirty, but intent on delivering her diatribe, her employer seemed not to notice. ‘As you are aware, Mr Mountsford is a reputable merchant with whom I conduct a considerable amount of business, and I distinctly remember instructing you to treat him with courtesy and respect.’
‘But I did, it’s just that Tom had already arranged—’
‘My dear Mrs Bodney, please forgive my intrusion,’ Rupert Mountsford said from the doorway. ‘It would appear that in my efforts to be of assistance to Miss Rose I neglected to consult with her betrothed. Regrettably, having already made arrangements himself, he jumped to the wrong conclusion. However, we now – how shall I put it? – understand each other perfectly.’ Although his voice was serious Lily could see his eyes twinkling with amusement.
‘I see,’ said Mrs Bodney, struggling to regain her composure. ‘Well, Miss Rose, I dare say it has been an unsettling morning for you. As long as you remember I have a reputation to uphold, we will say no more about it. There will be half a dozen ladies arriving shortly to sit the ability test. I suggest you go through to the room behind this one, which is to serve as the workroom. You can set out the requisite materials and when I have finished my business I’ll be through to check everything is in order. Rupert, perhaps you would care to take a seat? I have made a number of changes I need to acquaint you with.’
Before Mrs Bodney could change her mind, Lily hurried towards the door. However, in her haste to get away, she caught the toe of her boot on the corner of the step. Clutching at the doorpost for support, she watched in horror as a loose nail came away from the sole, spun across the floor, and came to rest by Mr Mountsford’s foot. Solemnly, he picked it up and held it out to her. As she moved to take it, he gave her such an outrageous wink she had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from bursting out laughing.
‘Do hurry up,’ Mrs Bodney commanded.
But Lily’s spirit had returned and, with head held high, she walked out of the room in what she hoped was a dignified manner. She only hoped Mrs Bodney hadn’t noticed the sole of her boot flapping as she went.
CHAPTER 22
Lily stood staring around the unfamiliar room, then spotted, stacked on the dresser, the patterns, bobbins and threads the ladies would need to make their test samples. She was about to set them out on the large round table when she noticed it was covered in a thick layer of dust. Snatching up a cloth, she gave it a brisk polish and had only just finished setting out the materials when Mrs Bodney bustled in. As usual her beady eyes had missed nothing, and she gestured impatiently to Lily’s boots.
‘How long have they required repair?’
Ashamed, Lily looked down at the floor. ‘Only a short while, Mrs Bodney.’
‘Well, this simply will not do, Miss Rose. Not only have you made an exhibition of yourself outside my establishment, you’ve also seen fit to turn up for work slovenly attired. Can you think of one good reason why I shouldn’t dismiss you on the spot?’
She gasped. ‘Oh please, Mrs Bodney, I promise to do better. Time hasn’t been on my side lately …’ She stuttered to a halt as the other woman held up her hand.
‘As it happens, Mr Mountsford has already appealed to my better nature, which he assures me I have hidden somewhere about my person.’ Mrs Bodney shook her head as though not quite believing what she was saying. The thought of Rupert Mountsford having the audacity to tease her employer in such a manner made Lily widen her eyes in astonishment. Mrs Bodney, though, was looking around the room, taking in the shining table and neatly laid out materials. Turning back to Lily, she shook her head.
‘You work well and your attention to detail is second to none. If you would only exercise a little more self-restraint, I’d be entirely pleased with you.’ She shook her head again. ‘Mr Mountsford also saw fit to point out that you’ve had a lot to contend
with of late, so on this occasion I will overlook your earlier behaviour.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney. I’ll work really hard and—’
‘As I’ve said, I have no concerns regarding your work,’ her employer cut in. ‘However, from now on you must promise to conduct yourself with decorum when you are about my business.’ Nodding vigorously, Lily breathed a sigh of relief. ‘And for heaven’s sake get yourself a decent pair of boots made. I suggest you take yourself to the cordwainer later and get sized.’
Lily looked at her employer in despair. ‘But I was going to get the cobbler to repair these,’ she said, pointing down to her boots.
As if she hadn’t heard her, Mrs Bodney continued, ‘Tell Albert only his finest work will do and that you require them to be ready in three days’ time.’
‘Why, he’ll never have a new pair made that quickly,’ Lily said, amazed at the assumption.
‘Oh, he will, Lily, believe you me. And, if you are worried about the cost, I will make an advance on your next month’s wages.’ There was a pause.
‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney,’ Lily said, when she saw her employer was waiting for her to say something.
‘Now, I’ll get Tilda to prepare your room and have your belongings taken upstairs for you. You’ll see she has already set your pillow over there,’ she said, pointing to the chair by the window. ‘I suggest you get on with your own work whilst the ladies are sitting their test, Lily. You will be on hand in case they need any help.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney, but I can take my own things up to the attic,’ she replied. However, the other woman was already bustling from the room. Lily let out a sigh of relief. Mrs Bodney was no longer referring to her as Miss Rose so it seemed she still had employment.
Moments later, a young woman with a mop of curly fair hair popped her head around the door.
‘I’ve come to sit the test. Mrs Bodney said it was all right to come through,’ she said, her trembling voice indicating how nervous she was.
‘Come and take a seat,’ Lily said, smiling to put her at ease. Then, before she could say anything else, the door opened again and an assortment of ladies, armed with their pillows, entered the room.
