The Flower Seller

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The Flower Seller Page 26

by Linda Finlay


  ‘I’d love to,’ she replied, her heart thumping excitedly.

  ***

  Isabella entered the cottage on cloud nine, only to be confronted yet again by a sobbing Dotty.

  ‘I didn’t know about it, honest,’ she wailed. ‘I just went to the big house as usual and was handed this note to give to Father and then the door was shut in me face. It was the only way I could see Alfie.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Isabella asked.

  ‘Got a letter from Lord Lester, haven’t I?’ her uncle replied, stabbing the embossed sheet of paper in front of him with his finger.

  ‘As my wishes haven’t been complied with, I have no alternative other than to rescind my custom with your company. Henceforth, Furneaux will be supplying my flowers,’ he read. ‘Has this anything to do with you?’ he asked turning to Isabella.

  ‘I didn’t mean to slap his face or . . . but he was going to kiss me and . . . ,’ hearing them gasp, her voice trailed away.

  ‘He was going to kiss you?’ Mary asked, her brows disappearing under her cap.

  ‘Well, he don’t say anything about that here,’ her uncle grunted. ‘Merely that he’d requested you deliver the flowers to Mrs Tripe instead of our Dorothy.’

  ‘Oh,’ Isabella murmured, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. ‘Well, Lord Lester did mention this to me when I last delivered the violets but never for one moment did I think he was serious.’

  ‘Obviously he was,’ Frederick snapped. ‘You don’t ignore the orders of someone like that. Not only have I lost custom at Covent Garden, but Furneaux’s got his nose in at Powderham and, if that’s not enough, now he’s to supply the big house. What do you say about that, eh?’

  ‘I can only apologize for not conceding to Lord Lester’s wishes that I deliver his flowers but . . . you see, well . . . that was only part of the bargain,’ her voice trailed away and she felt her cheeks flush as she remembered her last meeting with the onerous man.

  ‘I see,’ her uncle sighed. ‘He thought like mother like daughter, eh? Might have guessed.’

  ‘If he was taking liberties then you was within your rights,’ her aunt declared. ‘There’s been talk in the town. Don’t concern yourself, Izzie, a man like that will get his come-uppance sooner or later, lord or no lord. I’d love to have seen his expression when you slapped him,’ she chuckled. If only you knew, Auntie, Isabella thought.

  ‘It ain’t no laughing matter, Mother,’ Frederick grunted.

  ‘No, of course not,’ she replied, composing herself. ‘’Tis only weeks til Christmas and you girls can help me get things ready for when Father secures his orders. You’ll be supplying all the big hotels and restaurants with table arrangements and corsages, won’t you, Father?’ she said, turning to her husband.

  ‘Yes, I will,’ he agreed, looking mollified.

  ‘Well then, girls, what do you say?’ she asked. Isabella nodded her agreement. Although she was dying to tell her aunt about Felix’s invitation, this wasn’t the time. Dotty, however, had no such qualms.

  ‘As it’s not all my fault about the flowers, can I walk out with Alfie and go to his Christmas do?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Frederick grunted. ‘I’m going to see to my cultivars. At least they don’t answer back,’ he added, plonking his straw hat firmly on his head.

  ***

  ‘You’ll never guess what? Father’s had a change of heart,’ Dotty whispered. They were lying in bed, Alice snoring gently beside them. ‘He says as long as I don’t go sneaking behind his back again, I can walk out with Alfie. He wasn’t sure about me going to the Christmas do at the big house, but Mother put in a good word, saying Lord Lester wouldn’t lower himself to put in an appearance. Just as well ’cos I’ll never have enough money for a new outfit.’

  ‘As I said before, you can choose one of mine,’ Isabella reminded her. ‘Felix is taking me out to dinner at a local hotel on Christmas Eve, so I shall need to adapt one as well.’

  ‘Coo, we’ll look like real toffs,’ Dotty sighed happily.

  ‘Indeed we will,’ Isabella smiled.

  ‘Everyone’s talking about the feud between our families. Father and Uncle Bill are making plans to outdo Furneaux. All seems stupid to me. Cors, Father having earned less means we won’t have many treats for Christmas. It’s the kids I feel sorry for but, as Mother says, you can’t pull a rabbit out of a hat when you’ve got no hat in the first place.’

  Isabella recalled the Christmases of her childhood. The china doll dressed as a fairy, the doll’s house made specially for her, and she’d always had a new outfit to wear. Perhaps she could find something suitable for Alice and Thomas, she thought.

  However, despite the events of the day, it was emerald-green eyes and a cheeky grin that filled her dreams.

  ***

  The next weeks were manic as they picked, posied and packed the violets ready for Covent Garden as well as preparing tussie-mussies to be assembled at the last moment. Determined to outdo his rival, Frederick was out securing orders from the many hotels and restaurants in the local towns and villages which were hosting Christmas celebrations.

  ‘It’ll mean working over the festive period,’ he told them. ‘But it’ll give us the opportunity to make up for the business we lost after the storm.’

  ‘We can still celebrate with a nice meal in the evening,’ Mary told them stoically. ‘Though don’t you young ’uns go expectin’ much in yer stockings,’ she told Alice and Thomas.

  Seeing their looks of dismay, Isabella and Dotty exchanged smiles. As well as altering gowns for their forthcoming parties, they were secretly making a dress and shirt for the youngsters. Isabella had even found a jacket she could make into a turnover for her auntie and appropriate items for her uncle and William. She had in mind something she could give her grandmama but alternated between thinking her idea brilliant or stupid.

  Although they were tired after long days working in the barn, anticipation lent enthusiasm to their long evenings of sewing. Dotty was so excited about the burgundy dress she’d found to alter that Isabella was surprised she could sit still long enough to stitch.

  ‘I’ll look like a princess,’ she kept saying. ‘Just wait til my Alfie sees me.’

  Isabella smiled, hoping Felix would be equally impressed with her outfit and that the fine weather, which had been surprisingly warm for December, would continue. Although she was becoming used to travelling in an open cart, she couldn’t help thinking longingly back to the days when she’d been conveyed by covered carriage.

  Chapter 31

  Christmas Eve arrived at last and excitement filled the little bedroom as they changed into their finery. Isabella stared at her appearance in the fly-spotted mirror. The satin silk in sapphire blue suited her colouring and she’d turned her favourite velvet cloak into an evening wrap to cover her shoulders. Unable to afford getting her hair coiffured, she’d pinned it up in a chignon with an ornate comb and, despite her aunt’s protestations that her feet would get cold, was wearing her silver sandals.

  ‘Coo, me ’air’s frizzed up grand,’ Dotty exclaimed delightedly, throwing down the brush on her mattress. Isabella smiled, still not able to equate the expression with pleasure. If her curls frizzed they were a nightmare to tame.

  ‘You look beautiful, Dotty,’ she told her cousin, for she did indeed look grown-up with her hair styled in ringlets instead of being tied in its usual braid.

  Having dropped a very excited Dotty off at the big house with instructions not to leave until they collected her, Felix and Isabella continued their journey to the hotel.

  ‘You look stunning,’ Felix told her when she emerged from the cloakroom.

  ‘Not looking too bad yourself,’ Isabella smiled, thinking that was an understatement. In his dark tuxedo and waistcoat, white winged-collar shirt and white bow tie, he looked every inch the man about town. He’d even tamed his dark wavy hair with spicy-smelling pomade.

  The evening, programmed to be a la
vish and leisurely affair with dancing between the courses, was something Isabella had been looking forward to. Streamers festooned the high ceilings and a tall Christmas tree scenting the room with pine and lit with myriad candles twinkled in the corner. As the other diners greeted Felix warmly, he proudly introduced Isabella but, although everyone was polite, she couldn’t help sensing their reserve. She was pleased when they were shown to a table for two in the bay window, from which they could look out over the lantern-lit green. The centrepiece, a tiny cluster of violets, was tastefully decorated with silver baubles.

  ‘There are violets on every table. I wonder who supplied them,’ Felix said, raising his brows.

  ‘To be honest, I don’t really care. For one night, I’d like to enjoy myself without worrying who secured the order for the flowers,’ Isabella told him.

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ he said, staring appreciatively at his first course of venison pâté adorned with cranberries. As the waiter poured their champagne, Felix gave her an outrageous wink.

  ‘Hope this is as intoxicating as you,’ he whispered, raising his glass to hers. Not knowing how to respond, she smiled and turned her attention to her plate. The food was delicious and she savoured its richness after the simple fare she’d become used to.

  ‘Would my lady care to dance?’ he asked, jumping up as the music began.

  He was surprisingly light on his feet and Isabella effortlessly followed his lead. As he gazed tenderly down at her, she felt her pulse race. Whether from the bubbles or the tang of his cologne, she felt lightheaded and happy.

  The fish course was followed by roasted goose, and Felix persuaded her to indulge in another glass of champagne.

  ‘It’s been a hectic few weeks so let’s push the boat out,’ he laughed. ‘Hopefully, come the New Year, things will ease up and we can spend more time together.’

  ‘That would be nice,’ she agreed, for he was attentive and amusing and she hadn’t enjoyed herself so much in ages.

  ‘Well, what do you think of our little hotel? Not a patch on the swish London ones, I’ll be bound,’ he said.

  ‘Actually, I feel quite at home here. The food and service are excellent,’ she admitted, only to be rewarded by a broad grin.

  ‘Phew, that’s a relief. I was worried you’d find we yokels wanting,’ he replied, exaggerating his accent. ‘Come on, they’re playing our tune.’

  When she looked askance, he grinned, holding out his hand to lead her onto the dance floor. As their fingers touched, little arrows of pleasure shot up her arm once more. The music was slower this time and he held her tight, leaning in so she felt the warmth of his breath on her hair. Her heart was beating so loudly, she was sure he must hear it.

  ‘Gracious, who’d have thought it? A Furneaux with a Northcott,’ a lady muttered as she glided past them.

  ‘Matthew and Frederick would be shocked if they knew their offspring were associating, and so closely too,’ her partner replied.

  ‘Ah, but that’s Ellen’s girl, and you know what she was like. He’s probably hoping for a bit of fun tonight.’

  ‘Well, of all the . . . besides my name’s Carrington,’ Isabella cried, the magic evaporating like dew in the morning sun.

  ‘Don’t let them spoil our evening, Isabella,’ Felix murmured, as the music came to a stop. ‘Come on, dessert next,’ he added, leading her back to their table.

  Determined to ignore the barbed comments, they tucked into an ice-cream confection decorated with a sprig of holly, but it wasn’t until Isabella was sipping the aromatic strong coffee that she felt her hackles subside. Sensing Felix watching her, she looked up to see him frowning at the neckline of her dress.

  ‘You’re not wearing your silver locket?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t feel right somehow, after all that’s happened. I’m really not bothered about trimmings and trappings anymore.’ Felix stared at her for a long moment.

  ‘Do you know something? I really like this new Isabella. She’s softer, more approachable somehow. Just the sort of woman I want to marry in fact.’

  ‘But Felix, we haven’t known each other for long,’ she protested.

  ‘I’ve always known what I wanted, Isabella, and I want you,’ he replied, holding her gaze until she grew so hot she had to look away.

  ‘This coffee is absolutely gorgeous,’ she murmured, taking another sip.

  ‘And so are you,’ he whispered. ‘I wish we could spend tomorrow together but Father’s insisting we work. Strange when he’s always taken half the day off before. Mind you, he wasn’t happy I was bringing you here tonight.’

  ‘Uncle Frederick’s the same,’ she sighed. ‘Although he doesn’t mind me walking out with you as long as I don’t tell you any family secrets,’ she assured him. To her surprise, Felix stared down at the table. ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Doesn’t your father like me because I’m your rival’s niece?’

  ‘It’s not that, Isabella.’ Seeing the turmoil playing out on his face, she waited. ‘Father heard your uncle’s got hold of some cultivars and wants me to find out what species they are,’ he admitted.

  ‘Well, I can’t enlighten you, I’m afraid,’ she smiled apologetically. Instead of smiling back, he continued to look troubled. ‘There’s something else?’ she persisted, the babble of voices around them receding.

  ‘If I don’t find out, he’s threatening to disinherit me,’ he admitted. ‘Not that I’m worried for myself, but I can’t ask you to marry me without being able to offer you a decent standard of living. Not that it will be anything like the one you’ve been used to. However, I intend working hard to build up the business.’

  ‘But Felix, that was my old life,’ she sighed.

  ‘A man has a duty to provide the best he can for his wife, Isabella,’ he said. ‘I can’t understand Father, though, he’s never been like this before. It’s since he and Frederick started competing.’

  ‘Yet Uncle Bill doesn’t seem to be affected, does he?’

  ‘He loves the actual growing process, as does Joseph. What they don’t know about violets is nobody’s business. Forgive me, Isabella, I didn’t intend mentioning any of this tonight. Listen, they’re playing the last waltz. Shall we?’ he asked, holding out his hand.

  As their bodies melded together, his closeness sent shivers of delight shooting all round her insides, and when he nuzzled the back of her neck she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. She really didn’t want the evening to end, but when the music faded away, he reluctantly released her and led her to the cloakroom to collect her wrap.

  Outside a sliver of silver moon lit their way to the cart. As soon as he’d helped her up, he reached into the pocket of his great coat and handed her a tiny package.

  ‘Happy Christmas, Isabella sweetest,’ he murmured.

  ‘Why Felix,’ she cried delightedly, tugging at the ribbon.

  ‘No, wait until tomorrow and when you open it, remember this.’ Then he kissed her lips, sending stars shooting across her universe. ‘And don’t forget to make a special wish,’ he added, his eyes blazing with emotion. Biting down the lump in her throat, she nodded and turned away before he could see her tears.

  ***

  Shrieks of excitement woke Isabella the next morning. She’d lain awake half the night, thinking back over her wonderful evening, Felix’s revelation and the decision she’d reluctantly made. Thankfully Dotty, who’d chattered excitedly all the way home then fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow, was unaware of the torment churning Isabella’s insides. Ignoring the cries of delight coming from downstairs, Isabella reached for the little box and tugged at the bow. As she gazed at the silver star shining from its satin lining, hot tears tumbled down her cheeks. Remembering her promise to Felix, she made the wish she knew could never come true.

  ‘Come along, Izzie, we’ve got a present for you,’ Alice cried. Quickly placing the brooch in her pocket, she wiped her eyes and hurried down the stairs.

  ‘Happy Christmas,’ t
he family chorused.

  ‘Look at my posh frock,’ Alice exclaimed, twirling around in front of Isabella.

  ‘Goodness, you look just like the Christmas fairy,’ she smiled. ‘And can this handsome young man really be Thomas?’ she added, seeing the boy stroking the soft material of the shirt she’d fashioned.

  ‘I’ve made you violet soap,’ Alice said, handing her a small parcel wrapped in paper. ‘Well, Mother helped, of course, but I did the stirring,’ she added proudly. ‘We had to wait ages for it to harden, though.’

  ‘Thank you. It smells gorgeous,’ Isabella said, putting it to her nose. ‘Even better than that I used back home,’ she added delightedly, for it was the first luxury she’d had since arriving here. ‘You’ll have to show me how to make it. Now, I have gifts for the rest of you too,’ she smiled, handing over the presents she’d secreted in her share of the closet.

  ‘Coloured pencils. Blimmer, never had none of them before,’ William cried.

  ‘These paint brushes be perfect for cleaning the leaves of my cultivars,’ Frederick said, looking pleased.

  ‘Why, if this isn’t the finest turnover I’ve ever had,’ Mary declared, pulling Isabella close. ‘Are you all right, dear? You look a bit pale,’ she whispered. ‘’Tis only natural you’ll be remembering your father.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ she replied, swallowing down the lump in her throat. ‘Can I take Grandmama her breakfast? I have something for her too.’

  ‘We’ll both go, shall we?’ Dotty said, jumping up and grabbing the tray from the table. ‘I can tell her all about my lovely night at the big house. Not that she’ll understand, but that’s not the point, is it?’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ Isabella agreed, smiling gratefully at her cousin, who unknowingly had just solved her dilemma. It wouldn’t matter if her grandmama didn’t understand her gesture; it was the fact she was making it.

  ‘Don’t be long, then. It might be Christmas but we’ve still got work to do,’ Frederick reminded them.

  ‘Slave-driver,’ Dotty muttered as they made their way outside. ‘Did you have a good evening, Izzie? You was very quiet on the way home.’

 

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