The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2)

by Mary Kingswood

  After a few minutes, he moved on and Caroline realised her turn was coming. She quailed, having never even seen a duke before, never mind been introduced to one. She reminded herself sternly that he was just a man, for all his title and money and hordes of footmen, and he wasn’t much older than she was. Nor did she depend on his goodwill for employment or social favour. She was just a passing visitor who would never be here again. With such thoughts, she was able to make her curtsy without agitation. Then she became stuck, her mind an utter blank. What on earth does anyone say to a duke? Fortunately, Lady Narfield rescued her.

  “Ran, Miss Milburn’s grandfather drowned on the Minerva, too.”

  At once his face changed, alive with sudden interest. “Indeed? Then I am very sorry for it, madam. We are united in our grief, for none can comprehend such depth of sorrow who has not suffered it. Please sit, Miss Milburn.” He half turned and caught the eye of a footman, who somehow divined his meaning without any words spoken and brought forward a chair. The duke sat down beside Caroline. “Tell me of your grandfather, Miss Milburn, for I would know everything of my poor brother’s sailing companions.”

  “I’m very sorry, my lord, but I know nothing about him, except that he was a hop merchant on business in Ireland. I didn’t even know of his existence until after he was dead, and found out he’d left his house to my mother. Since she’s dead, my sisters and I inherited.”

  “So the inheritance came as a complete surprise?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But how came you not to know anything of him? Did your mother never speak of him?”

  “She never knew, either. She thought her father was a soldier who died in India, but in fact she was an illeg—” She stopped, blushing.

  “Ah,” he said, understanding. “Such things happen in the best regulated families, Miss Milburn.”

  “Even in yours?” she said, before she could stop herself. Across the table, Mrs Leatham’s eyes widened in horror, but she heard a low chuckle from Mr Leatham, standing behind her.

  The duke was not in the least disconcerted. He smiled at her, and his face softened from ducal dignity to impishness, which made him look even younger than his years. “Even in mine,” he said. “It is the way of the world, but a natural child need not be any great disgrace, on either side. Your grandfather made provision for your mother, and that is as it should be. For you, then, the sinking of the Brig Minerva has been nothing but a blessing, bringing you unexpected good fortune, and I congratulate you. Whereas for me, it has brought nothing but grief and uncertainty.”

  Uncertainty? What uncertainty could there be, surrounded by such wealth?

  He must have seen puzzlement in her expression, for he went on, “My brother was away in America for three years, Miss Milburn. There is always the possibility that he has married and fathered a son who is now the duke. That renders the succession most uncertain.”

  “Would he do that without telling anyone?” Caroline said.

  “Perhaps. He had a secretive nature, sometimes, and in his last letter to me he said that he had a surprise for me. I wondered then… but if he was bringing home a wife, she would have been on the Minerva too, and there was no woman on board.”

  “But there was,” Caroline said at once, without thinking. “She was dressed as a man, but she was a woman. Maybe your brother married after all.”

  15: A Wager

  For perhaps ten minutes, the duke and his sisters plied Caroline with questions, none of which she could answer. She could only refer them to Mr Willerton-Forbes, who had told her of the woman masquerading as a man. The duke leapt to his feet, intent on rushing away immediately to write to Mr Willerton-Forbes to obtain more information. He had actually turned and taken two steps away from the table when the horrible truth dawned on him.

  “If that was Gervase’s wife, then she is drowned too,” he said in a hollow voice. “If she carried a child, it is gone. It is no use.”

  “Three years, Ran,” one of the ladies said. “Ger was gone for three years. There could be a child left behind somewhere… too young to travel, perhaps. There is still hope.”

  “Still hope,” he echoed, but his voice was bleak. “Three years… I shall write anyway, and find out what I can. You will excuse me, Miss Milburn… Mrs Leatham… ladies.” He bowed, spun on his heel and strode away.

  “Poor boy,” one of the ladies said. “He has taken it very hard. They were very close, always.”

  “Was Lord Randolph’s brother much older than him?” Caroline said.

  It was Lady Narfield who answered. “Ten minutes. Twins, you see. Not identical, in looks or in temper. Ger was the mercurial one… up in the boughs one minute, sunk in gloom the next, and always restless. Ran was the steady, solid one. But inseparable as boys, until Father thought it best for them to spend some time apart. This trip to America was the final attempt to get all that restlessness out of Ger’s system before he married and settled down to be the heir. And now this. Poor Ran. He cannot believe that Ger is dead and he is alone now.” She sighed. “But enough of my brothers. Miss Milburn, I have a favour to ask of you. I shall be hosting my own party of guests later this month at Narfield Lodge. Mr and Mrs Leatham will be there, but I should like you to be of the company as well.”

  “Oh, my lady, I’m not fit to mingle in such society,” Caroline cried.

  “Let me be the judge of that,” she said, with a smile.

  “But I’m a lacemaker by trade, not a lady like you. I shouldn’t even be here today, except that— Well, I shouldn’t,” she said, not liking to mention the wager. “I certainly shouldn’t be staying as a guest. It’s not right.”

  “You need not be ashamed of your origins.”

  “I’m not ashamed of them, my lady, but I know my place in society, and it’s not mixing with the sisters of dukes.”

  “But you are a friend of the Leatham family.” Did her eyes flicker to Mr Leatham for a moment? “That is good enough for me. Besides, you would be helping me out. We have a number of very young ladies staying this year, and I should dearly like to have someone with a touch more common sense to help me keep an eye on them and steer them out of trouble. You are such a sensible person, and not at all timid. You would be a great asset. Will you at least think about it?”

  Caroline was too flustered to couch a polite refusal. She was distracted, too, by Mrs Leatham, who was smiling and nodding encouragingly. “I will think about it,” she said.

  “Good, good. And now I must go and make sure that Aunt Charlotte has taken her tonic and Uncle Arthur has gone off for his nap. He will be as cross as a bear if he does not get his hour of sleep.” And with a rustle of muslin she rose and went into the house. Most of the other ladies had drifted away, too, either back inside to find a respite from the afternoon warmth, or, parasols aloft, venturing out into the gardens again. Mrs Leatham, too, murmured something about shade and a rest, whispered the word ‘Barnacle!’ to her son, and vanished inside.

  Caroline was left alone with Mr Leatham.

  ~~~~~

  Charles had watched these exchanges with increasing irritation. First Mama had behaved in the most bird-witted way with the duke, twittering incoherently like a schoolroom chit. Then Miss Milburn, who ought to have been quite overwhelmed by such attention, had chatted away to him as if she had known him for ever. She had so monopolised him, in fact, that Charles had never even had the chance to be introduced to him. It was not pleasant to be overlooked as if he were of no consequence at all, while Miss Milburn, the linen draper’s daughter, was treated like royalty. And now Mama had forced him to spend the rest of the day alone with the woman.

  But he had a bet to win, and so he dredged up some semblance of a smile and offered her his arm. “Shall we walk, Miss Milburn? We have not yet tackled the maze. It is a very fine specimen, it appears, inspired by the one at Versailles, just as Valmont was inspired by the palace there.”

  “I have no wish to get lost with only you for company, Mr Leat
ham.”

  “Now why on earth should we get lost?” he said testily, before remembering the need for calm. He must not allow himself to be provoked! More evenly, he went on, “One need only approach the matter systematically to be in and out in no time. A quick walk round the maze, and then we can find a cool spot beside one of the pools, or return to the terrace for lemonade.”

  She eyed him speculatively. “Very well, but you must be the guide. I’m sure you are much better at systematic approaches than I am.”

  He was suspicious of her sudden acquiescence, but he agreed to it and they set off for the maze. It was some distance from the main pleasure grounds, tucked away behind the stables, and he was uneasily aware that all the other guests had gone in a different direction. If they should happen to lose their way, there would be no one to help and they would not be missed until the hour for the carriage to be summoned. However, he had great confidence in his ability to find his way. He was a trained soldier, after all.

  The stables were easy enough to locate, a splendid block built in a square around a yard. It was constructed in the same style as the house, complete with towers at each corner and a fine clock above the arched entrance. At the back of the stables, a wide gravel path led to the imposing hedges of the maze. They found one of the openings and passed inside, where the air was cool between thick hedges that towered over their heads. Almost at once there was a junction.

  “This way,” Charles said confidently. “We are making for that pagoda in the middle.”

  “That is no distance at all,” Miss Milburn said, gazing at the colourful tower that rose above the hedges.

  “Indeed. This should not take more than five minutes, and another five to get out again.”

  She smiled and followed him without a word.

  He led the way, turning first one way, then another. From time to time they passed benches or statues on plinths, but after a while they all began to look the same to him, and he could not be sure that they were not doubling back and passing some that they had seen before. Still, he remained confident. “Are you confused yet?” he said to her.

  “Completely,” she said, beaming at him cheerfully. “How glad I am that I have you here to lead the way, Mr Leatham.”

  He had the annoying feeling that she was laughing at him. “Left at the next junction, I think. We should be almost at the middle.”

  But they were not. They turned this way and that, and sometimes the pagoda seemed almost within reach, but always there was a solid hedge in between.

  “Perhaps we should give up on finding the middle, and try to get out,” Miss Milburn said, with irritating cheerfulness.

  He stopped, anger boiling up inside. As if she could have done any better! Recollecting himself, he took a couple of deep breaths, then said with more composure than he felt, “We took a wrong turn somewhere, but we are very close now, I am certain.”

  “You said that ten minutes ago, and ten minutes before that,” she said chirpily. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

  “If you think—!” He caught himself just in time. Another deep breath. And another. “I am not as good as I believed, it is true, but I shall find the way in the end.”

  “Ohhh!” she wailed, flopping down on a convenient bench. “You’re not going to, are you?” Her voice wobbled, almost as if she were about to cry.

  Alarmed, he sat down beside her, and patted her gloved hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “Never fear, Miss Milburn. I admit to having made one or two mistakes, but I shall get us out of here before long.”

  “I don’t care about that,” she cried. “We need only turn left by the nymph with the broken foot and then right at the lion to be on the way out. No, I meant that you’re not going to quarrel with me, and I’ll have to pay you fifty pounds.”

  “Oh.” His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “It seemed like no more than an amusing game. I had not the least idea that our little wager distressed you so much.”

  “Well, it does. It will distress me if I lose, anyway.”

  He tugged at his ear pensively. Surely she could not be so poor that the loss of fifty pounds was catastrophic? He was about to retort briskly to that effect when the thought crossed his mind that this might be another attempt to goad him into a quarrel. If so, she would be disappointed. “What would be the consequence of losing such a sum?” he said in mild tones. “Would you starve? Be obliged to turn off servants? Have to sell the house?”

  She gave him a watery smile. “Nothing like that. It isn’t the money, because I have more than that sitting in the safe, and not earmarked for any of the tradesmen. No, it’s the principle of it — gambling, and giving away money for no good purpose. Forgive me for mentioning such a thing, Mr Leatham, but you don’t exactly qualify for my charity, and you aren’t supplying goods or performing a service. It’s so… so wasteful.”

  He had never considered gambling for such a small amount as anything other than a harmless amusement. How many nights had he sat down with his fellow officers and played for larger amounts than that, sometimes much larger? None of them had ever thought much about it, usually having an allowance from their fathers as well as their regimental honorarium. His own father’s estate was not large, but he had never been short of the funds for whatever he wanted to do. This was the first time he had considered what it must be like to live in a different world.

  “Were you… very poor?” he said eventually, hoping she would not be offended.

  “Not at all,” she said, looking up at him with a shy smile. “Oh, by your standards perhaps we were, but there was always enough money when Papa was alive. The trouble was that he fussed so about it, especially towards the end of the quarter, when all the bills began to come in. I used to help him with the accounts, so I knew that we had enough, but he would fret so, and it became ingrained, that habit of watching every penny, and never spending unnecessarily. So now I fret about the pennies, even though there is no need, and I can scarce believe that I am wasting fifty pounds, just because I was so ill-tempered as to be drawn into this scheme.”

  “I am very sorry,” he said, and truly meant it. “I can see that it was ill-advised, but now that the bet has been offered and accepted, we cannot honourably withdraw.”

  “If you were a gentleman, you would allow me to win.”

  He laughed suddenly at the irony of it. “So now you want me to be a gentleman, do you? May I remind you, Miss Milburn, that you were the one who told me that I was not a gentleman.”

  She looked chagrined. “True, and I am not a lady, so there is no reason why you should waste your gallantry on me. I shall just have to pay up, and learn my lesson.”

  Her expression was so glum that his heart was touched. He picked up her hand and enfolded it in both of his. “There is a way out of this conundrum. We may not honourably call off the wager, but we may change the terms, I feel, so long as we keep to the spirit of the enterprise, and retain bets of equivalent value.”

  “What does that mean?” she said, looking up hopefully into his face.

  For a moment, he was distracted by treacle-coloured eyes framed by long, black lashes. Her hair was almost as dark, a few wispy curls peeping out from beneath her fetching little cap. She was very fetching altogether just at that moment, her gown flowing over delightfully feminine curves not entirely concealed by her lace fichu. For a few long moments, he could not recall what he had been about to say. Gathering his wits, he cleared his throat and said, “It means that if I lose the bet, then I will pay you the agreed upon fifty pounds. If I win, then you may give me something of equivalent value.”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Nothing… nothing improper,” he added hastily. “Your help. Advice, perhaps.”

  “Fifty pound’s worth? That is a great deal of advice.”

  That made him smile. “It is worth as much to me, certainly. Miss Milburn, may I speak plainly? I must marry, and soon. That is my duty, and I have no wish to shirk it. I do
not much mind who the lady is, so long as it is not Mildred. Mama has it in her head that it should be you, but I think we are both agreed that we should not suit. This leaves me in something of a quandary. How am I to find a wife? I have no skills in society suitable for the purpose. As you have so helpfully pointed out, I am not even a gentleman. Yet I am determined to overcome my deficiencies and persuade some intrepid lady to take a chance on me. Will you help me in this endeavour?”

  “Are you serious? Whatever do you think I can do to help?

  “You can assist me to become a gentleman, according to your precepts.”

  “Isn’t your father the best person to advise you?” she said.

  He heaved a sigh. “Perhaps, but he is such a gentle soul that he cannot bring himself to censure me, even when I need it. His lenience is, perhaps, why I find myself in this fix. I have no uncles or cousins I could trust enough, and my peers, those few men whom I count among my friends, are far away on foreign soil. But I have found a book, one that my brother Alfred bought, possibly for the same reason. It may well be that he was aware of the same deficiency in himself that I now find in my own character. The book is by the Reverend Dr John Trusler, and it is called ‘Principles of Politeness and of Knowing the World’. The heart of it was compiled by the late Lord Chesterfield, who was himself a consummate gentleman, so I feel certain that it will help me. By studying such a book, and putting into practice its precepts, I am confident that I shall improve my character immeasurably. Will you help me to practice? Please?”

  “I will, if you think it would be useful,” she said, but still she frowned. “There is a flaw in your scheme, however. In order to find yourself a wife who is not me and not Miss Beacher, you will have to go out into society and… well, do some courting.”

  “Indeed and you can help me there, too,” he said eagerly. “This visit to Lady Narfield’s, for instance… there will be a number of young ladies there. If you were to come with us—”