‘Really, Mr Leland! You positively alarmed me,’ she said.
‘I should have knocked,’ the young man said wretchedly. ‘Indeed, I stood outside for some time, not sure what to do, but I heard no sound from within so I – I did not wish to discommode anyone, but I was so anxious to obtain my gloves. They were a gift from Charlie, you see, and he would be most put out if he thought I had lost them even before Christmas was over.’
‘Gloves?’ Tilly said wonderingly and he looked around, turning his hat in his hands as he did so, his face a picture of misery. Then his expression lightened.
‘There!’ he said eagerly. ‘On the dresser.’ And he darted across the kitchen and picked up the gloves that were indeed lying there, and showed them to Tilly.
‘You see! I put them down and since I have had them such a short time quite forgot to pick them up when I collected my hat. I do beg your pardon. I would not have distressed you for the world.’
‘I am not distressed,’ Tilly said goodnaturedly, now quite recovered from her surprise. ‘Now you are here, perhaps you would care for some supper? I have far too much here for my needs and I am sure you are hungry. I never yet knew a young man who was not.’
He looked at the table and then at her. ‘It is kind of you to ask me, Ma’am, but I think it would not be right of me to accept.’
‘Not right?’ She stared at him puzzled. ‘How can that be?’
‘I would like it too well,’ he said simply. ‘Not for the food, you understand, but for the chance to talk to you. You seem to me to be a – you are a very interesting – and – kind lady and talking to you would be a great – urn – pleasure. But I must not.’
She shook her head, more mystified than ever. ‘I do not understand.’
‘I am a shopkeeper, Ma’am, in a very small line of business as yet. It will be better one day, but – well, a small business. And you are a lady of property and therefore it would not be right in me to consider spending time at your table even though you have asked me in so generous and – and kind a manner.’
‘Oh, Mr Leland,’ She understood now and was embarrassed. ‘I am nobody special! Just a woman who –’
‘You are a lady of property, Ma’am, a respectable widow and it would not be seemly of me to accept your kind invitation,’ he said stubbornly, staring at a point somewhere above her head. ‘But I take it kind in you to ask, indeed I do.’
‘Mr Leland,’ Tilly said and smiled. ‘Mr Leland, I do believe you are a snob!’
‘I, Ma’am?’ He sounded scandalized. ‘I am a person who knows the proprieties, I hope, but that does not mean I am so mean spirited as to be a snob.’
‘You are too concerned with proprieties, Mr Leland, and sadly diminish your own most generous spirit if you think your so-called proprieties prevent us from sharing a meal in an agreeable manner with no harm to either. And anyway, I am no special lady of property! I may own this house, but I must earn my keep in it. I take in lodgers, Sir, to maintain myself and my child, and I cannot see that sets me any higher in station than you. You sell your goods in a shop. I sell my services in my house. We are much of a muchness, I think!’
‘I fear you are too kind, Mrs Quentin.’ He was looking doubtful now. ‘I am so anxious never to intrude or to seem to be any sort of – of tuft-hunter and to know my place.’
‘Mr Leland, your place is here at this table for the next little while,’ she said firmly. ‘And let us hear no more nonsense. Now, you will take some ham, won’t you? And some of Eliza’s excellent beef? Can you eat two slices? Here you are – and the salad.’
Chapter Twenty-seven
‘WELL!’ SAID DORCAS, and steepled her hands in front of her elegant bodice in a considering sort of pose. ‘I think you will agree that we have wrought well here?’
Eliza, who had been bustling about her new stove with a cloth and pot of blacking ever since the last of the installing workmen had gone, looked up, her face flushed with effort and pleasure.
‘Oh, yes!’ she said fervently. ‘It’s quite the most – well, I tell you, I feel like the cow’s dropped twin calves and all the hens are laying at home, I’m that pleased!’ And she set to polishing again, before starting the fire in the brand new grate. ‘I’ll take a day or two to get the way of it, no doubt, but then just you see the sort of dinners I’ll be making.’
‘Except, of course, that Mrs Oliver will not see, since she does not dine with us,’ Tilly said a little sharply. ‘It is but breakfast we agreed –’
‘Oh, pooh,’ Dorcas said. ‘I know that is what we agreed, but now we have been here a month it is clear to me that dining out so often is not as agreeable as I thought it would be. I prefer to dine at home more, and now you have your stove, Eliza, I imagine this will not be too big a task for you? Of course, if it is –’
She did not need to wait for Eliza’s response. It was obvious from the glowing face she turned to Dorcas that dinner would be no trouble at all; and Dorcas smiled at Tilly.
‘I had already decided, my dear, that you have made us so comfortable, Sophie and I, that we prefer to remain within doors more than we thought we would. I will add two guineas a week to my rent and that will, I know, cover our dinners. You cannot accuse me of being parsimonious, Tilly, can you? The rent I pay is generous.’
‘Yes,’ Tilly said a little heavily. Of course it was; she knew that perfectly well. She could easily have supplied dinner for Dorcas and her daughter each day for the rent they already paid and not been out of pocket. As it was, the extra two guineas was a handsome sum. It was just the inevitability of it all that rankled and she opened her mouth to say as much and then closed it again. Not here, in the kitchen, with Eliza listening. And Eliza, to boot, was now Dorcas’s warm ally.
Dorcas had gone to a great deal of trouble in her first weeks at number seventeen to be charming to everyone; the Misses K and F already adored Sophie and had enrolled her at their school (where fortunately she was very happy) much to Duff’s delight, who was now clamouring to start school himself, instead of being unwilling and anxious about it; to Eliza, who was eating out of her hand in no time; and to Charlie, who met her when she insisted on accompanying Tilly one morning to the grocer’s shop to place her weekly order.
He had persuaded Tilly that the new arrangement with Dorcas was a successful one. Now that she had to buy rather more for an enlarged household, Charlie told her, she was eligible for even greater discounts.
‘I learned a lot from you the first time you came to the shop and talked to Pa, Mrs Quentin,’ he assured her. ‘I run my business along your sensible lines now, cutting prices rather than supporting large debts, and that means I can offer sensible discounts to important customers, of which you are of course one. It’s as well your friend has come to join you, is it not?’
And so it was, in financial terms, undoubtedly. Dorcas, by coming to live in her house, had found a way to ensure that Tilly enjoyed some of the benefits of her father’s money. She should feel grateful, not uneasy. It was not a good way to be, she told herself sternly. She should be a better person and not so grudging.
Standing beside Dorcas in the kitchen, watching Eliza so happy with all her new toys – for there were other items Dorcas had paid for, including several pots and pans and patent devices for chopping meat fine or for chipping loaf sugar and sifting flour, all of which were going to save much labour for the hardworked Eliza – she castigated herself for being so – well – suspicious. Tomorrow the new housemaid was to start, an event which Eliza was eagerly awaiting. To have someone to order about and lord it over would, she told Tilly ingenuously, make her feel like a real housekeeper; and that was another occasion for happiness due to Dorcas’s arrival. Yet Tilly was still uncertain.
‘I must go,’ she said abruptly. ‘I have a number of things to do.’
‘Oh, but Tilly,’ Dorcas followed her from the kitchen. ‘I was hoping to persuade you to come with me to choose some new curtains for our bedrooms. I like what we have done so
far very well. The new furniture is exceedingly handsome and the painters have made an excellent fist of the rooms. But I cannot be sure which curtains would look best, and I would so value your opinion.’
It had been precisely this task that Tilly had wanted to carry out herself. She too was aware that the present curtains in the newly furbished rooms occupied by Dorcas and Sophie left much to be desired, and had planned to go out this very morning to seek new ones. To be forced to take Dorcas along – she bit back her resentment and nodded. ‘I was intending to deal with that today, in any case,’ she said.
‘Splendid!’ cried Dorcas. There are two or three linen drapers’ establishments, as I recall, in Knightsbridge and in the Kensington High Street. We could try Knightsbridge first and then if we must, take a cab to Kensington High Street?’
‘Indeed we could,’ Tilly said. ‘But I would prefer to –’
‘I am glad to hear that,’ Dorcas said blithely. ‘Wait a moment while I fetch my pelisse and tippet,’ and she was gone, disappearing upstairs in a pretty flurry of magenta ruffles.
Tilly sighed and went to fetch her own outdoor garments of a new long paletot in purple plush trimmed with gimp cord and black Spanish lace. At least, she told herself defiantly as she put on her new spoon bonnet which showed her hair prettily and was adorned with a bunch of Parma violets, I can show her I can be as elegant as she is. This had been her first purchase of new clothes for some time, and indeed had only been made possible by Dorcas’s arrival. But she did not wish to think about that.
But when at last Dorcas arrived downstairs, Tilly’s heart sank. She was wearing a most elegant outfit in the first stare of fashion; the magazines had been full of excited chatter for some weeks about the new Garibaldi shirt, in blazing scarlet trimmed with black braid and buttons, a black silk cravat and very full sleeves, worn over black skirts with the whole surmounted for outdoor wear by a short square-cut Zouave jacket and a black Tudor hat with a scarlet feather. Dorcas was wearing all of this, with the addition of a broad band of scarlet silk let into her black silk skirt well above the hem, and scarlet shoes with a black ribbon rosette at the toe. She looked perfectly delectable and it was all Tilly could do not to gape at her like some bystander in the street when the Queen rode by.
‘I knew you’d like it,’ Dorcas said with satisfaction. ‘I have purchased a fully matching costume for darling Sophie – she shall wear it to show you this very evening. I decided I really must take it all out this morning, even if only to buy curtains. Now, my dear, are you ready? I adore your bonnet. One of the new ones, is it? Too, too sweetly pretty. Come along now. I’m sure a walk will make us both feel in excellent spirits,’ And she linked her arm in Tilly’s and led her out of the house.
‘It is just like when I was a child,’ Tilly said abruptly when they reached the end of the Grove and were about to set out towards Knightsbridge. ‘You always did what you wanted and made me feel quite set about, for you never did as I wanted.’
‘Oh, my dear Tilly!’ Dorcas opened her eyes wide and stopped walking. ‘Am I being a burden to you? I wouldn’t wish that for the world – I wanted only to come home to live and – and to make life easier for you. It is all wrong that your Papa should have left you no money, and I thought when you had gone to such pains to find me that it would be good and proper to share with you the money your Papa left.’
‘I have heard all that before,’ Tilly said. ‘And I agree it sounds – it sounds polite and kind in you. But when I was small you could beguile me, and I fear you still do.’
‘But you are not small now, Tilly,’ Dorcas said with what seemed a most sensible air. ‘And I have no wish to beguile you. Tell me how I am beguiling you now and I will stop it at once. I only thought that it would be agreeable to share a shopping expedition as we did when we bought the furniture at Shoolbread’s, and show off my new clothes – and indeed yours too. That paletot is new, after all! And so is your bonnet. And here we are prosing along agreeably and yet you are like the fretful porcupine and accuse me of – well, I don’t know what. I do think you’re being a little – well, captious. How am I beguiling you, tell me that?’
Tilly stared at her, nonplussed, knowing there was right in all she said and took a sharp little breath.
‘Oh, I don’t know! It is just the way you make me feel. You always did. You chose to go to Knightsbridge or to Kensington for curtains, when I might well have chosen to shop here in Brompton. There are excellent shops in Middle Queen’s Buildings and –’
‘Then that is where we shall go!’ Dorcas said heartily. ‘I would not for a moment wish you to think I was being beguiling simply by suggesting where we go. Of course we do not have to do as I suggest. I am all yours, my dear Tilly, to do as you wish. Lead and I shall follow.’
Tilly shook her head in a helpless gesture and set out walking again, now in the direction of the nearest shops, knowing she had been silly. The shops in Knightsbridge would have given them a much greater choice of curtains than the linen drapers’ in Brompton; she knew that and she knew Dorcas did too.
And then, as they walked along the street, holding their skirts well clear of the slush – much to the delight of gentlemen passers-by who were greatly taken by the flash of Dorcas’s scarlet stockings – for no apparent reason Tilly remembered and said, almost before she realized the words were in her mind, ‘Dorcas – what happened to my spoons?’
‘Your spoons?’ Dorcas looked at her in complete bewilderment. ‘What spoons?’
Tilly’s face hardened. ‘My mother’s Russian enamel spoons. The day you ran away to marry Walter, you came to me in great distress for money. I had none but I gave you my mother’s spoons – the ones she had promised me. What did you do with them?’
‘Oh, those!’ Dorcas’s face cleared. ‘I had quite forgotten, you know! They were enamel, were they? I had not recollected – I took them to – let me see now, if I can remember.’
She bent her head as they walked on, watching her red shoes flashing in and out under her black silk skirt, greatly pleased at the effect. ‘I must see if I can remember – ah yes! I took them to a shop in Knightsbridge! I recall perfectly now. He gave me three sovereigns for them.’
‘Three – but they were worth much more than that, I am sure!’ Tilly stared at her companion. ‘You could not have let them go for so little.’
‘I did not think they were worth more,’ Dorcas replied. ‘He offered that and I was glad to get it. It was enough for my needs, I thought.’
‘Enough for – you told me you needed five pounds. I remember perfectly.’
‘Oh, you always ask for more than you need in such circumstances!’ Dorcas said. ‘And I believed I could manage with three.’ She dimpled. ‘And I did. We were married, after all.’
‘So you sold them cheaply for that reason?’ Tilly cried. They were my mother’s. And mine!’
‘But you gave them to me. I didn’t think you ever expected to have them back,’ Dorcas said. ‘You did not say.’
Tilly looked at her, lost for words. Could she ever understand the way Dorcas’s mind worked? She did not believe she ever would and sighed deeply. ‘I suppose not. Can you at least remember at which shop you sold them?’
‘After all this time, I cannot be sure – but wait. Perhaps I can.’ She frowned. ‘It was a small jewellery shop, opposite that toyshop in Kensington High Street – is it still there? Joseph Toms, that was the one.’
‘I think Toms’s shop is there yet,’ Tilly said and suddenly her spirits lifted. ‘I wonder if we could get them back? I’d like that above all things!’
‘He must have sold them on by now,’ Dorcas said. ‘I can’t see why he would not, if they were in truth worth so much more as you say and he got them cheaply.’
‘But perhaps not – can you recall the name of the shop?’
Dorcas shook her head. ‘I remember only it was opposite Toms’s establishment. Shall we go and see? Now?’
‘Not now,’ Tilly said after a mom
ent. ‘We said we were to buy curtains.’
‘Indeed we did. It is entirely up to you, Tilly,’ Dorcas said submissively. ‘Which shop do you intend to visit, Tilly?’
‘Elizabeth’s,’ Tilly said firmly. ‘Elizabeth Harvey’s. I have known her for many years. We went to church together when I used to go to Holy Trinity. When her father died she was left the shop and her husband, the Colonel, helps her run it. It bears both their names now. It is at the other end of the row,’ She pointed out a shop front that bore in large letters the superscription, HARVEY NICHOLS.
Dorcas nodded. ‘I remember when it was the old man’s shop, before the Great Exhibition, when we first came to Brompton, Mamma and I.’
There was a little silence and then Tilly said, ‘I need some silks for finishing those shirts of Duff’s. I will get them here.’ She turned towards the small haberdashery they were passing. ‘Elizabeth has silks too but I must say they are expensive, though very fine. Perhaps they will have the same, but not so costly. I will be very quick.’
‘I am in no hurry,’ Dorcas said sunnily and together they went into the shop, which was small and rather dark and cluttered, but smelled agreeably of new fabric and lavender.
‘Can I help you?’ a voice said and Tilly peered into the dimness as a man came forward.
‘Oh! Good morning, Mr Leland,’ she said.
‘Good morning, Mrs Quentin,’ he said and smiled, obviously pleased to see her. ‘I thought you usually bought your haberdashery from Mrs Nichols.’
‘I do,’ Tilly said. ‘I have known her these many years, but she has become very costly for silks lately and I thought I would see what your prices are. I had no notion this was your shop. It does not say Leland outside.’
‘No, it does not. It was my uncle’s shop. He is William Hatch and has started another shop in Gloucester Road which is doing very well, so he said I should have this one as my mother had died. She was his sister, you see.’
‘You did not tell me this when last we talked,’ Tilly said. ‘I would have been most interested –’ Tilly began, but Dorcas interrupted.
London Lodgings Page 29
