Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1)

by Tracie Peterson

  “I was wondering if you might help me with a matter, Miss Mintie. I’ve been so busy since my arrival from England that I’ve not had time to go into town and visit the stationery shop. I promised to write my aging father back in the homeland, and I hoped that you might be willing to make such a purchase for me. I placed the money on my bureau. I would be most willing to reimburse you for your time and inconvenience.”

  Mintie frowned, drawing her brows together as she was known to do. She felt the tightness in her face and hoped her look relayed her displeasure. He’d called her by her first name, but instead of reprimanding him, she decided to let it pass. “I suppose I could put it on my list, but I won’t be going shopping until tomorrow.”

  Mr. Farnsworth took a step backward and nodded. “Quite all right. I won’t have sufficient time to write a proper letter until Sunday afternoon.”

  Lucy’s eyes danced with anticipation as the door closed behind Mr. Farnsworth. “I’ll go into town for you, Miss Beecher.”

  “I’ll just bet you’d like to do that. I’m paying you to serve meals and clean up afterward, not go prattling off to town wasting valuable time on that Englishman. You best move along or it will be time for you to get back to the mill before you’ve finished your work here. You can be certain I’ll not pay you for a shoddy performance of your duties. I’m going upstairs, but I’ll be back down to check on your progress.”

  Mintie watched the child hasten into action and then hurried up the steps to the room occupied by John Farnsworth and five other men. Hesitating momentarily, she glanced up and down the hallway before silently chastising herself. Whom was she expecting to see lurking in the corners? There was nobody in the house except Lucy. Besides, Mr. Farnsworth himself had told her the money was on his bureau. She turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  Entering the upstairs rooms on a Wednesday, she felt oddly out of place. Monday mornings and Thursday afternoons were the times she normally entered the rooms occupied by the men. Mondays for stripping the beds and gathering other laundry, Thursdays for dusting and scrubbing floors. Unlike the girls who worked in the mills, these men were more than willing to pay for cleaning chores that weren’t included in their monthly rate for room and board—which was precisely why Mintie had taken the position as keeper of the men’s boardinghouse. Across the street, Adelaide had enough difficulty maintaining some semblance of order with the few girls she had. How could she ever possibly manage a house that was completely full, plus the extra chores for the men?

  Observing the coins, Mintie hesitated only a moment before sweeping them into her palm. Making a quick survey of the room, her gaze fell upon a tattered envelope lying atop Mr. Farnsworth’s trunk. Instinctively, she reached for the missive but stopped herself. Instead, she leaned forward until her nose nearly touched the aging paper as she carefully read the name and address inscribed on the letter.

  “Miss Beecher, are you still up there?”

  Startled, Mintie jumped back, rushed out of the room, and hastened down the stairway. “What do you want?”

  Lucy’s upturned lips and sparkling eyes were quickly replaced with confusion. “Did I do something wrong, Miss Beecher? You said I’m to tell you when I complete my chores and to never leave without first telling you.”

  Mintie felt heat rising in her cheeks. “You did nothing wrong. Are you leaving now?” That was as much of an apology as Mintie would make to a servant.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be back later.”

  Mintie nodded. Why did the child make that same remark every time she left the house? They both knew she would be back later. Lucy’s family needed her earnings, and although it was a concession not easily made, Mintie needed Lucy’s assistance. Still, it would do the child some good to learn proper manners and speech. Perhaps if time permitted, Mintie could further instruct the girl. There was no sense in allowing the child to turn into a hoyden.

  ****

  Lilly tucked the porcelain teapot into a cozy and placed it on the dining room table beside a small silver tray of shortbread, teacups, and saucers. “I can complete the meal preparations, Miss Addie. I want you to enjoy your tea and have a nice visit with your sister.”

  “I never enjoy visits from my sister. She comes over here to snoop and feed her own ego, and that’s a fact. Each time she spies a new boarder arriving or hears that one has departed, she shows up on my doorstep with her admonitions. After she’s had her tea and enumerated my list of failures, she flies back across the street, leaving me to feel even more inadequate than when she arrived.”

  Lilly patted the plump woman’s shoulder. She’d come to care about Addie in the few days since her arrival. There was something motherly in the woman, and it caused Lilly to miss her mother more than she realized. Though sometimes she remembered her mother doing little things—dusting the furniture, tucking a handkerchief in her sleeve, pouring tea—Lilly’s favorite memories were of the times when she’d prepare for bed and her mother would come in and brush Lilly’s long hair while they talked of the day.

  “Sometimes,” Addie confided, “I think sisters are merely a nuisance.”

  Her comment roused Lilly from her memories, and she shook off the sadness that threatened to ruin her day. “I always longed for a sister. But perhaps it wouldn’t have been so much better than a brother.”

  Addie gave her a soulful smile. “Mintie is fifteen years my senior. She’s always believed that age alone gave her the authority to manage my life,” she replied. “But tell me more about your family. You have a brother? I’d like to hear about him—and the rest of your family. We have time before Mintie arrives.”

  Addie was difficult to refuse. The woman reminded her of a ray of sunshine, always lighting up the room, so Lilly heeded her request and sat down. “My brother, Lewis, is nine years older. We were never close. Oh, I attempted to win his affection as a little girl, but nothing seemed to work. Soon I learned to keep my distance. Lewis resented having another child enter the family circle. For some reason, which I fail to understand, he believes our parents ceased to love him when I was born.”

  “’Tis true that some children can’t seem to comprehend the fact that their parents have enough love to spread among all of their children.”

  “I suppose so, but I don’t believe my parents could have been any more obvious in showing their love and affection for Lewis. Even after their deaths, he continues to despise me. He grasps at every opportunity to make my life miserable.”

  “Surely he’s not quite that bad, my dear. You know, Mintie can sometimes make my life miserable with her callous remarks and rigid behavior, but deep down I know she loves me.”

  “Miss Addie, Lewis does not love me. From the time I could toddle, he took great pleasure in pulling my hair, pinching me, and even tripping me as I passed by him. When I was six years old, my dear brother held me upside down over the bank of the Merrimack River. Had Jonas and Matthew Cheever, neighbor boys who lived on the adjoining farm, not happened along that particular day, I’m certain Lewis would have dropped me over Pawtucket Falls and into the rushing waters of the Merrimack River.”

  “Now, now, don’t think such a thing. Boys are prone to outrageous pranks—or so I’ve been told. Of course, that does seem a bit extreme. Perhaps he didn’t realize the seriousness of his actions.”

  “He was fifteen years old, Miss Addie. And now that our parents are dead and he’s made off with everything they ever owned, I suppose he doesn’t care whether I’m alive or dead. He gave absolutely no thought to what would become of me after Father died.” Pain stabbed at Lilly’s heart with the realization of how absolutely alone she felt.

  Addie clucked her tongue and slowly shook her head back and forth. “I know it can be difficult to think good of someone who has hurt you so deeply, but I don’t believe your brother wishes you dead. You’re much too lovely a girl for anyone to wish you harm. I’m sorry to hear you’ve lost your parents, child. How long since their . . . ?”

  “M
other’s been gone five years, but my father was buried just last week,” Lilly said with a tremble in her voice. She swallowed hard, hoping to hold back the tears that were forming and threatening to spill at the mention of her father’s death.

  The older woman leaned forward and wrapped Lilly in her embrace. “I had no idea. Why, you should still be allowed to mourn his passing. Seems just terrible that you should lose him and your home at the same time. But don’t you worry. You’re going to be just fine, Lilly,” she whispered. “I can feel it in my bones. You have a home here now.”

  Lilly wiped at her eyes and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Thank you for being so kind. I didn’t mean to become so emotional.” Addie’s kindness made it easy to give in to her sorrow and memories.

  Lilly watched the older woman’s face tighten into a grimace as the clock chimed. “Mintie.” Addie breathed the word as if it held some mystical spell over them.

  The forbidding announcement was followed by a sharp knock at the front door. Before Lilly had an opportunity to exit the dining room, Mintie Beecher swooped down the hallway, entered the room, and seated herself at the table. “Are you going to take my cape and bonnet, or must guests hang them up themselves, Adelaide?”

  “I’d be pleased to take your cape and bonnet,” Lilly offered.

  “May I assume you are one of the new boarders?”

  “She is,” Addie replied. “What other questions have you come to ask me?”

  Mintie’s eyes grew dark as she wagged her finger up and down in front of Addie. “Watch your tone, young lady. You seem to forget whom you’re speaking to.”

  “How could I forget when you constantly rush over here to remind me, Mintie?”

  “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I merely came by for a nice cup of tea. A brief respite in a week of drudgery. Now you’ve succeeded in ruining even that small ray of sunshine. Why must you be a torment to me when I only seek to maintain civility and unity for the sake of the Judge and our sisterhood?”

  Lilly watched as Addie’s face began to etch with concern at her sister’s words. It was apparent that Mintie knew how to control Addie’s every emotion. “I’ll leave you ladies and be off to the kitchen,” Lilly announced once she’d hung Mintie’s cape and bonnet.

  “No, I want you to join us.”

  Mintie Beecher’s words were a command, not a request, and Lilly hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I thank you for the kind offer, Miss Beecher. However, I work for Miss Adelaide until I go to the mills, and she’s instructed me to complete preparations for the evening meal. I can ill afford to take orders from another.”

  Addie patted the chair beside her. “Why don’t you join us for a few minutes, Lilly? Then you can finish your work.”

  Lilly nodded and seated herself beside an obviously grateful Addie as Mintie poured the steaming tea. “How is it you’re working for my sister?” Mintie’s thin eyebrows rose in unison as she looked over her spectacles and awaited a reply.

  Lilly studied the stern-faced woman momentarily. Her gray-brown hair had been pulled back into a tight and orderly bun. Not a single strand of hair dared to be out of place. Her gown was just as simple and no-nonsense. The dove gray cloth had been done up in a very plain fashion without benefit of trim or embellishment.

  “Well? Are you tongue-tied?” Mintie questioned.

  Lilly held back a sharp retort. “I don’t begin my employment at the mills until next Monday, and we were able to reach a mutually satisfactory arrangement.”

  Mintie waited. An uncomfortable silence shrouded the room as the older woman sat staring across the table, first at Lilly and then Addie.

  Addie drew in a breath to speak but paused momentarily before proceeding. “I understand you have a new boarder, Mintie. I hadn’t realized you had any vacancies until Mrs. Wilson gave me the news while she was measuring me some yard goods yesterday.”

  “Is that what she’s telling folks? That I had a vacancy? How dare she? I had no vacancy. That young Mr. Cheever sent word, asking that I take on Mr. Farnsworth as a boarder.”

  The mention of the Cheever name caused a tightening in Lilly’s chest. No doubt it was Matthew to whom Miss Mintie referred. He was a part of this nightmare that had been brought to Lowell by the Associates. His participation had forever put a wall between them. It had destroyed their love for each other—their plans.

  Miss Mintie continued to ramble on. “He said he knew I had no openings, but Mr. Griggs agreed to move to another house so that I could take on Mr. Farnsworth.”

  “Seems odd to move one man out so another can have his place,” Addie commented.

  A look of pride washed over Mintie’s face. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and elongated her neck until she resembled a matriarchal ostrich. “Well, Mr. Cheever’s note said that he had been informed my boardinghouse was the best run in the city and that when he had questioned the men with regard to where they would live if given the opportunity, my house was the most highly recommended. He went on to explain that the Associates wanted Mr. Farnsworth to experience only the best that our boardinghouses had to offer.”

  “Cheever. That name sounds familiar,” Addie remarked, glancing toward Lilly.

  Lilly frowned. Please don’t ask me, Miss Addie. Please don’t ask. Lilly quickly turned her attention to Mintie. “What’s so special about Mr. Farnsworth?”

  “I’m not sure, but I can tell you that if I had known he was straight off a ship from England, I wouldn’t have agreed to take him. He’s probably a spy, and those Associates are too foolish to realize it.”

  Addie chuckled and leaned forward to pour another cup of tea. “Goodness, Mintie! Will you never get over thinking the English are continuing to plot against us? If the Associates were bright enough to stake out and build these mills and this community, I’m sure they’re capable of choosing loyal employees.”

  “Spoken with a complacency the English would love to hear, dear sister. They’ve brought this Farnsworth over to help them with their calico prints, I’ve been told. Seems he brings with him the expertise to improve that fabric the mills are passing off as calicos at the present. Who is to say if that man is coming here to spy on us and send word back to England? If a man says he’s willing to turn on his own country, he bears watching. Why, just today I saw a missive on his trunk bearing the imprint from a Lancashire factory. You’ll not soon convince me he’s come to aid this country in its bid toward industrialization.”

  “You were searching through Mr. Farnsworth’s personal belongings?” Before she’d had time to think, the words had escaped Lilly’s lips. She now had the full attention of both sisters. “I’m sorry, this is none of my concern. Please—disregard my question.”

  “I am not a snoop!” Mintie ignored her sister’s raised eyebrows and turned her full attention to Lilly. “That letter was sitting out in plain sight. I was in Mr. Farnsworth’s room at his direction. He asked me to purchase some stationery. He told me there were coins on his bureau to pay for the supplies. I did nothing improper.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t, Miss Beecher. I didn’t mean to question your propriety. In all likelihood, however, I doubt Mr. Farnsworth would send you into his room if he had anything to hide.”

  “I can see you’ll do quite well with my sister. You two make a fine pair. Neither of you can see beyond the tip of your nose. Just remember how the Judge believed that there would never be an end to war with England until we put an end to them. The Judge was seldom wrong, Adelaide.”

  “He was wrong about his finances. If he had invested with the Associates, we’d still be living among Boston society. Instead, we’re boardinghouse keepers in Lowell. I don’t think there’s any more to your Englishman than meets the eye,” Addie replied.

  “Well, Mr. Cheever certainly is interested in Mr. Farnsworth. He personally came to interview me and inspect my house before Mr. Farnsworth arrived.”

  Addie gave her sister a puzzled stare. “What does that hav
e to do with your suspicions?”

  “Nothing, I suppose. Well, except that Mr. Farnsworth must be important or Mr. Cheever wouldn’t take such pains regarding his welfare. Mr. Cheever is an excellent young man—a man of quality, as the Judge would say. Quality and breeding always show. I trust that he would know if this Mr. Farnsworth were up to something. But then again, Mr. Cheever is very young.”

  Eventually, the sisters’ conversation became nothing more than background noise to Lilly. The mention of Matthew Cheever and his involvement with the Associates sent her thoughts scurrying back to the summer after he’d completed his second year at Harvard. He’d returned to the family farm. For the remainder of that summer, she and Matthew had thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company. Matthew’s mother had even hinted to Jennie Armbruster that perhaps more than boundary lines would unite their adjoining farms. Lilly had blushed when her mother repeated the statement. And even though Matthew had gone off to Harvard University to further his education, he had pledged to maintain the family farm. He’d hinted at other pledges, as well. But those promises—those dreams—had been rapidly forgotten with the arrival of Kirk Boott.

  “You hail from these parts?” Miss Mintie inquired, her shrill question breaking into Lilly’s thoughts.

  “Yes. East Chelmsford is my home.” Mintie leaned in more closely to hear the voice that was barely a whisper.

  “East Chelmsford? East Chelmsford no longer exists. This is Lowell,” Mintie retorted, her voice carrying that same rebuking tone she had taken with Addie only a short time earlier. “Chelmsford was no doubt an English name.”

  Lilly shifted only slightly in her chair as she gazed back at Mintie with the same determination she had seen in the older woman’s eyes. “This will always be East Chelmsford to me. Kirk Boott and his lords of the loom can name it whatever pleases them, but that doesn’t mean it changes in my mind or heart.”

  “What has Kirk Boott ever done to you that you speak his name with such disdain?” Mintie inquired.