“Indeed,” her brother retorted, as he snatched the handkerchief off her head. “I’ll be bound you will attract customers just to see such a performance. I daresay you will make a go of it, Alicia, but you are to remember that Jane and I will provide you and Felicia with a home if you ever need it.”
“That I will never forget. It shall be my port in a storm, I promise you.” Alicia rose and shook hands with her brother. “We are agreed, then. You cannot like the scheme, I know, but I am delighted that you are willing to accept it. Thank you, Stephen. Now tell me of Jane and the boys.”
Chapter Two
In spite of an early start it was afternoon before Alicia and her brother and daughter reached the town of Tetterton. The main street was wide and boasted a green between two secondary lanes which diverged from it. The row of shops was handsome, some with slightly bowed windows and sparkling small panes of glass. Alicia noted that the inn, the Feather and Flask, was an old brick building with numerous gables. A glistening red ivy covered most of its surface. The inn chimneys dotted the skyline and welcoming smoke drifted forth to proclaim that the establishment was well used. A glimpse of the stables behind showed a modest amount of activity going forth. Next there was a bookseller’s shop, obviously given over to prints and paintings as well. The pastry cook’s front was narrow and somewhat dark, but more than made up for by the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked breads which issued forth.
Alicia’s eye next fell on an older sign, Joseph Dean, Linen Draper and Haberdasher, Established 1775. She gave a sigh of contentment and smiled at Stephen. “Here it is. Shall we have Lady Gorham’s barouche taken to the inn? No doubt you are both sharp set, but I cannot wait to see the shop.”
Stephen and Felicia agreed to postpone their meal, as both were only slightly less interested than Alicia herself in ascertaining the condition of her proposed purchase. Stephen appraised the double-fronted building with its three fan windows skeptically, but noted that it would take little more than a coat of trim paint to make it look very attractive. The room into which they entered was enormous. Shelves on either side were stacked with rolls of fabric and reached at least twelve feet to the ceiling. There were tables, counters, chairs, and ladders in the first room, with a smaller room behind where ready-made items were displayed.
Mr. Dean himself came to assist them; he looked sallow and shrunken and Alicia had a strong desire to recommend that he seat himself. She did not wish to embarrass or upset him, so she quelled her desire and allowed him to explain to her the workings of his shop. His assistant, Gregory Allerton, quietly and efficiently assisted the customers who wandered in during their tour of inspection. These customers were of as much interest to Alicia as the inventory Mr. Dean rattled off of Irish poplins, French gloves, Indian muslins, brocades, and a staggering variety of other items. The shop was obviously patronized by a wide range of country society, including men, women, and children of almost every class.
Mr. Allerton treated them each respectfully, and he surprised Alicia by showing great deference to an eccentrically dressed elderly woman who tended to snap at him.
“You need not tell me these will wear well, young man, for I have the evidence of my own eyes to disprove it. Did I not buy a similar pair of gloves not two years past? Look at them now—a bundle of rags,” she stormed, waving the offending items in his face. “There is not an item carried in this shop which can hold up to a bit of use.”
“Perhaps if you were to consider these kid gloves rather than the satin, my lady,” the young man suggested deferentially.
“Kid gloves? Why, they cost the earth!” she protested with a glare.
“They justify the extra expense by how well they wear, I assure you. And our price for them is quite reasonable.”
“Reasonable! I should not consider two guineas reasonable. Why, in my youth they were to be had in London for under a guinea.” The old woman’s eyes glazed reminiscently. “I had a pair of lavender kid gloves for ten years. Now that is something you cannot provide nowadays—a pair of gloves which will wear for ten years! Ten days, more like.”
Mr. Allerton, uncomfortable under this attack before Alicia and her party, cast a worried glance at Mr. Dean, who hastily excused himself from them and trotted over to the recalcitrant customer.
“Good day, my lady. Is there some problem? Perhaps I can personally assist you to find what you need.”
Her ladyship bent a disparaging eye on him. “I doubt it, Mr. Dean. You cannot produce what you do not carry, which is quality merchandise.”
“If your ladyship wishes to have me order something from York or London...,” he suggested tentatively.
“And pay for the service? I should think not. My son can bring me anything I need, I thank you.”
At this point Mr. Allerton re-entered the conversation. “Perhaps you would care to consider these white satin mitts for the time being, Lady Stronbert. They might serve until the marquis makes a journey to town.” He laid the mitts carefully on the counter and murmured, after a questioning glance at Mr. Dean, a reduced price for the item.
Alicia watched appreciatively as the old woman’s stubbornly set face relaxed somewhat in her belief that the battle was won. Not that her ladyship immediately agreed to the purchase; she examined the mitts minutely and, unable to find any fault with them, grudgingly said, “You may put them on my account.” Mr. Dean voiced his appreciation and excused himself while his assistant wrapped the tiny package.
Wiping his forehead, he returned to Alicia muttering apologetically of the dowager marchioness of Stronbert before he resumed his discussion of the shop. Just as they entered the rear cubicle that served as an office, Alicia saw the customer depart with a swish of her incredible orange-striped puce walking dress over old-fashioned panniers.
“I fear I have not been up to keeping ahead of the paper work this last half year,” Mr. Dean remarked with a wave at the disorderly piles, “but you will find that everything is paid for immediately.” He began to cough discreetly, and turned aside from them when he was unable to contain the racking gasps which overtook him. Alicia quickly pulled up a chair for him and Stephen gently seated him in it. It was several minutes before he was able to recover himself to speak further with them.
“I beg your pardon,” he finally managed. He turned red-rimmed eyes to Alicia and explained, “I am anxious to sell the property and the business, as you can see, due to my health. I should like to show you the cottage myself, but I fear I need to rest for a moment.” He handed a ring of large keys to Stephen and explained that the cottage was right behind the shop, facing on Fetter Lane and could be reached through the rear of the shop or by going back to the entrance and turning down the lane. “I wish you will understand that the cottage is very small and not in the best order at this moment,” he apologized. “I have not taken care of it as I should since my wife died several years ago.”
Alicia chose to exit through the rear of the office and found a small L-shaped, overgrown garden with a well-traversed path leading to the small white cottage. There was not a great deal of space in the kitchen or the maid’s room, and the dining room and sitting room beyond were only of moderate size. But the wood wainscoting was attractive. Somehow it reminded Alicia in miniature of the home of a friend she had had as a girl. The entry hall had stairs leading directly up to the floor above, where two bedrooms came off either side. These rooms were dusty and dark, and Alicia hurried to open the dark and fading draperies. When the autumn sun shone into the rooms, dust drops dancing in its beams, there was an indefinable change in the atmosphere. Alicia and her daughter smiled at one another suddenly and a decision was made. “We shall have it,” Alicia announced.
Stephen turned an alarmed countenance on his sister. “But you have not even seen it from the front yet. And what about the shop? Mr. Dean is obviously months behind in his bookkeeping and...”
“Now, Stephen, you know that matters not the very least. If you are willing, I would have you negotiate t
he price with him. But do not take advantage of his illness. I can afford to pay a fair price since the cottage will be adequate for us.”
“But, Alicia, it is tiny!” he protested.
“Yes, but it is also charming and we shall easily make do. And Stephen, make sure that the assistant, Mr. Allerton, is willing to work for a woman. Also, find out how soon I may take possession. I want things settled as quickly as possible. My solicitor is in Scarborough, and the funds from the sale of Katterly Grange, my share of them, are immediately available.”
Stephen could not accept this rash decision without demur. He was used to handling all the business for his family and found it difficult to see his sister invest her modest financial worth in such an endeavor on the basis of a few minutes’ inspection. His voice was tinged with sarcasm as he asked, “Would you not rather prefer to handle the transaction yourself?”
Alicia bent a quizzing look on him. “You, too, Stephen? I have managed an estate for something like sixteen years, and I have had a rather successful time of it, you know. It was difficult, not to say impossible, at the start to convince those I dealt with that I took the position seriously. I am no less serious about this endeavor, and I have seen several businesses in the last two months. This shop is ideal for me. Yes, I should like to handle the transaction, but Mr. Dean will feel more comfortable if you do so. However, if you object...” Her eyes held his steadily, bringing a flush to his cheeks.
“I shall be happy to assist you,” he admitted grudgingly. “Lord, Alicia, when you stare me down that way I wonder that I should ever question your judgment. But one is not used to having a woman make such a large decision, and on such a brief inspection.”
“Few women are called on to do so. I could dither and worry and consider all the drawbacks, of course. But then I should probably lose the shop. Shall we go out the front way to see the facade of this gem?” she asked her companions laughingly.
They were all delighted with the twin-gabled appearance of the cottage from the lane. The half-timbered structure had latticed windows on the ground floor and in each of the bedrooms above which gave it an appealing symmetry and simplicity. Felicia pointed out the autumnal cyclamen and blue cornflowers interspersed with golden arnica that grew around the cottage and added their colors to the scene. There were trees along the lane and it was but a few steps to the main street with its green across from Mr. Dean’s shop.
“Stephen, if Mr. Dean is willing, I should be interested in purchasing the furniture with the house,” Alicia commented as her daughter skipped ahead of them down the lane.
“You might be able to afford something better, my dear,” he suggested.
“No doubt, but I shall not have the time, I fear.”
“As you wish.”
Mr. Dean was delighted to rid himself of the whole. He was planning to let a furnished cottage in Cornwall and had no intention of carting his furniture to such a remote locale. He and Stephen quickly came to an agreement on a price for the whole which Alicia feared was below its worth. She held her tongue, however, as her brother imperceptibly shook his head at her when she would have protested.
Over a late luncheon at the Feather and Flask he explained, “Mr. Dean had set the price a trifle high so that we might bargain. I assure you that he is perfectly satisfied with the conclusion. He is aware that he is leaving the business in a state of chaos which will absorb a great deal of time for you. And he is in a hurry to be rid of the business, which will always cost a seller, as I am sure you know. We have not taken advantage of his illness, I assure you. He will be out of the cottage within the month, but his suggestion that you might stay here, at the Feather and Flask, for a few weeks ahead of time to acquaint yourself with the workings before he leaves is a wise one. I feel sure Mr. Allerton was sincere in his assertion that he would be pleased to work for you, and give you the benefit of what experience he has. You know, Alicia, I am tempted to believe that this whole endeavor of yours is like to prosper,” he remarked with a cheerful grin.
“There is one thing,” Felicia began hesitantly.
“Yes, love?” her mother prompted her.
“I shall miss riding dreadfully,” she admitted.
“Yes, and I. I dare say we can work it out, though. Wait until we are settled here and I have the time to look about us for a solution, can you?”
“Of course, Mama.” Felicia sipped at her cider thoughtfully. “I shall enjoy it here, I think. I saw several young ladies strolling along the street as we came out.”
Alicia sighed and her forehead creased in an anxious frown. “You must realize, my dear, that in taking the shop I have lowered our social standing. It may not be possible for you to associate with all of the young women you would choose.” Alicia’s troubled eyes sought her brother’s. “That is, of course, the worst of it. I could work my fingers to the bone on the estate and yet maintain our standing because it was not obvious. I shall hate to see Felicia snubbed because of this.”
She returned her gaze to her daughter and reached out a hand to clasp the girl’s firmly. “It is not easy to accept one’s reduced circumstances, ever. You shall have to be brave, my love. I could not think of a better solution to our problems than a shop, but things will not be as they were before.”
“Oh, Mama, do not think me such a gudgeon! What do I care for those who will snub us?” Felicia cried. She could not bear to see her mother troubled on her account after watching her work for years only to be tossed about in such a manner. “I shall have more than enough to do with you in the shop. There will not be so much time for visits and teas and rides.”
For the first time since Stephen had arrived he saw Alicia’s eyes overbright with the suspicion of tears. His sister could obviously bear any burden for herself, but she could not so easily see her daughter suffer for their situation. He wanted nothing more than to pack the two of them off with him to his home and protect them from their fate, but he was realistic enough to accept that it could not be so. “I think perhaps Felicia should not spend much time in the shop,” he suggested in a gruff voice.
“No, of course not. I have no intention of allowing such a thing,” Alicia retorted, as she had managed to gain control over her emotions again.
“Not help in the shop!” Felicia wailed. “If I am to have no friends, and no rides, what else am I to do?” she asked mulishly, knowing that she had phrased the question so as to hurt her mother but upset enough not to care.
Surprisingly, Alicia was not in the least put out by this behavior. “My dear girl, you may not have noticed that the cottage we are to occupy is in need of a great deal of work. Your uncle feels, as I do, that if you stay out of the shop some of the taint of it will not rub off on you. But I assure you that I have plenty for you to do. And,” she added helpfully, “we will have merchandise enough no doubt to squander a little on your clothes. You would not believe, Stephen, how clever she is with a needle. She has made most of her own clothes for the last two years with only some ideas from the fashion magazines. Should our endeavor fail, I have every intention of sending her out for a seamstress!”
Felicia giggled and her uncle looked puzzled at this jesting acceptance of their penury. Could his dear Jane be so calm in the face of such a fate? Could he? “We should be returning to Lady Gorham’s. It will be dark before we arrive, even now,” he said.
Stephen picked up his cane and gloves and assisted his sister and niece with their belongings. As they left their private parlor Alicia caught a glimpse of the spacious kitchen hung about with copper and tin utensils which shone; hams, tongues, and flitches of bacon suspended from the ceiling. She caught a glimpse of Lady Gorham’s coachman seated at a scoured deal table on a high-backed oaken settle with a foaming tankard of ale in his hand. How comfortable it looks, she thought. “Stephen, before we leave I should like to arrange to stay here in two weeks’ time. Felicia, you may choose to come then, or when we may occupy the cottage.”
Felicia had long since repented her o
utburst and declared, “I should like to come when you do, Mama, if you please.”
The landlord showed them the modest accommodation they sought, an oak-paneled room with a deep bow window facing onto the High Street. The women were delighted with the room and settled that they would take it for a week or two when they returned. “For I have a suspicion,” Alicia confided to her brother, “that Mr. Dean will be more than ready to leave when the transaction is completed, and I do not believe that will take the whole of a month.”
Stephen shook his head helplessly. “You are rushing things, my dear. Heaven knows these solicitors always manage to slosh about for unmerciful lengths of time.”
* * * *
But in the end Alicia was proved right. Stephen left the morning after their visit to Tetterton, and Alicia drove in to Scarborough to set her solicitor in motion. Mr. Crew had a fondness for his young (to a sixty-two year old man thirty-four was young) client, and, once he saw that her mind was made up, worked with all possible speed to complete the arrangements. Lady Gorham regretted their early departure but promised to visit them once they were settled. “And do not press me to stay at your cottage,” she said forcefully. “You have described it to admiration and I shall be delighted to see it, but if you have an inch to spare for a guest I shall be most surprised. No, I shall stay at the inn you mentioned—the Flashing Feather, was it?”
“No,” Alicia laughed, “the Feather and Flask, but we can make room for you in the cottage.”
“Nonsense. Not another word on the matter. Indeed, I believe I have an acquaintance in the neighborhood of Tetterton. Though I dare say she would not be all that excited to see me. Quite an eccentric she is,” proclaimed Lady Gorham, who often appeared to have pretensions in that direction herself.
Alicia accepted this decision easily enough, but remarked, “I want nothing more than to have you visit, Lady Gorham, but there is no blinking the fact that I am becoming a shopkeeper. It will change our station, and I cannot expect you to show me such kind observance as has been your habit.”
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