by Linda Finlay
Linda Finlay
* * *
THE ROYAL LACEMAKER
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Read More
Follow Penguin
I dedicate this book to Pern for his faith, encouragement and endless cups of tea
CHAPTER 1
Peasants can’t be pickers.
Lily could hear her father’s voice as if he were in the room beside her, and with it the vision of the lavish breakfast she’d served at the manor house faded. Sighing, she stirred their customary pot of porridge and wondered what it would be like to start the day with chops, black pudding, bacon and sausage. All that meat for one meal seemed astonishing.
The back door clattered open, shattering her reverie and sending a cloud of acrid smoke from the fire billowing around the room. Wiping her smarting eyes, she opened her mouth ready to take her brother to task, but the angry words died on her lips when she saw the worried look on his face.
‘Agent Pike’s sent word you’re to see him straight away,’ said Rob, hobbling into the room and collapsing onto the chair beside the fire.
Lily’s stomach churned. ‘Did he say why?’
‘It’s about that lace the journeyman collected from you yesterday. You’re a skilled worker, Lily, so I’m sure there’s nothing wrong, but you’d best not keep him waiting.’ Although he spoke gently, she could see by the look in his eyes that he was anxious. At nineteen, her older brother was still very protective of her and she appreciated his concern. Instinctively, she glanced towards the next room. ‘Go on, Lily. I’ll see to Mother and Beth.’
Nodding gratefully, she jumped up and headed for the door, passing the table where her pillow and bobbins lay ready for the day’s work. She had quite enough to do without making the four-mile trek to the next hamlet, Bransbeer, but an order from Agent Pike couldn’t be ignored if she wanted to continue getting work. Throwing her shawl around her shoulders, she hurried outside.
Despite it being early May, the morning air was thin, and Lily pulled her cap down further over her ears. Surely there hadn’t been anything wrong with the lace? She’d thought it quite her best work yet, and had been careful not to waste any yarn so she knew the finished weight would have been correct. True, she hadn’t been paid much but, as her father had always said, peasants couldn’t be pickers, and they needed every penny she could bring in.
Since the farming accident two months ago that had killed him instantly and badly injured her brother, her mother had taken to her bed and hardly knew what day it was. Robert, now virtually a cripple, wasn’t able to earn a living or do much around the cottage. The responsibility of bread winner had fallen heavily upon Lily’s slender shoulders.
She hurried along the rutted track, her thoughts racing as fast as her feet, so that she hardly felt the sharp stones digging their way through the holes in her worn hobnailed boots. The arduous journey up over the cliffs would take her the best part of an hour and that was time she could ill afford to be away from the cottage. If she didn’t fulfil the order she’d been given, there were others who would. Already the demand for pillow lace was waning now some of the larger towns had moved on to producing lace by machine.
The uphill climb was steep but finally, as the first rays of the sun were bathing the limestone cliffs a soft pink blush, she reached the crest and paused to catch her breath. Far below, like miniature toys, the fishing boats were returning to harbour laden with their night’s catch. Lily spotted her betrothed’s red-sailed lugger, with its distinctive white painted spars, already pulled up on the beach, and her heart leaped. With Tom fishing the deep waters off Lyme Bay or gathering winkles on the shore when bad weather prevented him from putting out to sea, and she trying to eke a living from making lace as well as caring for things at the cottage, their time together was precious. Still, the tide should be right for him to be ashore after she’d seen Agent Pike.
Reminded of her mission, she began the long descent eastwards towards the thatched roofs of Bransbeer, where plumes of wood smoke spiralled from the chimneys then drifted up the valley on the gentle morning breeze. Entering the village, she noticed that despite the early hour, people were already going about their business. Some called out in greeting, others eyed her curiously as she sped by, lifting her skirts to dodge the worst of the mud.
On reaching the agent’s premises, a large brick and flint building linked by a maze of corridors to a row of cottages and outbuildings, she hurried through to the collection room. As usual, Mr Pike was sitting behind his desk in his long black coat and, as was his wont, he made her wait before looking up and staring at her over his half-moon glasses.
‘Ah, Lily Rose, you’re here at last.’
‘I came as soon as I got word, sir.’
‘Mrs Bodney’s waiting to see you.’
Her eyes widened in amazement. ‘Mrs Bodney wants to see me?’
‘Yes, Lily, she does, so stop parroting what I say and tidy yourself up. Come along, follow me.’
Hastily smoothing the creases from her dress and pushing strands of dark hair back under her cap, she hurried along a narrow passage after him. Eager to keep up, she followed so close on his heels that when he stopped suddenly, she went careering into him. He turned to glare at her, then rapped smartly on the door and ushered her inside.
‘Miss Lily Rose, ma’am,’ he announced to the seemingly empty room.
Puzzled, Lily peered around, taking in the huge table covered with bolts of material in sapphire blue, emerald green and ruby red, spools of matching threads laid out alongside them. She had never seen anything like it and stood studying them in fascination. Suddenly a smartly dressed woman bobbed up from behind the piles of material, making Lily jump, and two dark beady eyes stared directly into hers.
‘Is this your work?’ the woman asked brusquely, holding up a sprig of lace.
Lily recognized it immediately. ‘Yes, Mrs Bodney. Is something wrong with it?’ she asked anxiously.
‘No, as it happens, it’s some of the finest work I’ve seen.’
Lily let out a sigh of relief, then became aware the other woman was still speaking.
‘I’ve asked you here to offer you six months’ work.’
Lily felt her heart flutter like a fledgeling bird. Six months’ work! How wonderful. No more worrying where the next job was coming from; she could feed the family, buy things for her betrothal drawer for when she and Tom were married; why, she could …
‘Are you listening to me, Lily Rose?’ Mrs Bodney’s sharp voice snapped her back to the present and she flushed. What a time to be caught wool
gathering, she thought.
‘Yes, of course, ma’am.’
‘My business has won an important order. A most prestigious order, in fact. However, before you can know more, I must ask if you are prepared to take an ability test and I warn you, it’s a stringent one.’
Lily nodded and the other woman, as if anticipating her answer, produced a pillow, pattern and bobbins, explained what she had to do and then bustled out of the room.
Gently Lily pricked out the pattern, then wound the bobbins with thread. Fearful of making a mistake, she worked slowly at first but before long she was absorbed in her task and the bobbins became an extension of her fingers as they flew back and forth across the pillow. Methodically she enclosed her pin after each completed row, checking the tension. After a while, though, even her experienced fingers became stiff and sore, but she didn’t dare stop. By the time Mrs Bodney returned, the sample she’d requested was finished.
Carefully lifting the sprig from the pillow, Lily handed it to the older lady, who walked over to the window and held it up to the light. Silence hung in the air as Lily watched her inspect the lace. She tried not to fidget but she could hardly contain her impatience. Finally, when Lily thought she could not stand it a moment longer, the woman looked up and smiled.
‘Well, Lily, congratulations. You may present yourself at my cottage at daybreak tomorrow. Now take yourself back to Pike and he’ll tell you my rates and conditions.’
Delighted, Lily almost floated out of the room. Then, when she found out what she’d be earning, she was all but speechless, and it didn’t matter a sprat she’d be working from dawn till dusk. She had been chosen! Picking up her skirts, she raced down the street to the harbour, willing Tom to be there, for if she didn’t share her good news soon, she would burst.
As if she’d conjured him up, there he was: broad-shouldered in his blue serge jacket, brown cap perched jauntily on the back of his fair hair, striding up the pebbled beach towards her.
‘Tom,’ she cried.
‘Well, if it isn’t the prettiest girl in Devonshire, her eyes shining brighter than the stars in the heavens because she’s bumped into her beloved,’ he grinned.
‘Oh, Tom, stop teasing and listen,’ she retorted, tugging at his lapels to gain his attention. ‘You’ll never believe what’s happened. It’s the best thing ever, other than you asking me to be your wife, of course. It’s for six months and I’ll be earning regular pay and it’s more than you’d imagine and …’
‘Slow down, Lily my love. Let’s sit while you tell me about this wonderful news,’ he said, helping her up onto the wall adjoining the brook, then pulling himself up beside her. She was so excited she hardly noticed the smell of fish that clung to the rough material of his shirt.
‘Oh, Tom, she loved my lace work. Said it was some of the finest she’d seen.’
‘Who, my sweet?’ he asked, gently pushing back the strands of hair that had again escaped her braid.
‘Mrs Bodney.’
‘Phew,’ he whistled. ‘Now that woman takes some pleasing, so I’ve heard.’
Wriggling along the wall, she added: ‘I had to sit this test, but I passed, and she wants me to work on a special commission but, Tom …’ her blue eyes clouded as she turned to face him, ‘… I’m sworn to secrecy as to what it is. I know we shouldn’t have secrets when we’re to be married but she wouldn’t take me on until I’d promised not to tell a soul.’
He shook his finger at her. ‘If it involves any dark, handsome strangers then I insist you tell me right now.’
‘Of course it doesn’t, silly,’ she said, laughing. ‘I’ll have to work long hours at her cottage here in Bransbeer, and I’ll only have the Sabbath off, but the wage is more than I’d ever make working from the cottage.’
Tom frowned. ‘Lily love, that’s nigh on an eight-mile round trip each day. You can’t possibly walk that and work six long days at a stretch. Who would look after your family and the cottage? It’s you who’s kept everything going this past couple of months.’
Lily looked down at her worn boots and groaned. In all the excitement, she’d quite forgotten the responsibility she had for her family. Making lace at home meant she could keep an eye on her mother and young Beth, whilst Rob went about the chores he was able to manage. Everything took him so much longer now that he could only hobble around. They also shared the cooking and, on the rare days her mother felt like eating, she insisted it was Lily who fed her. How would they manage if she was away all day?
‘Oh, Tom, what am I to do?’ Lily wailed.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll think of something,’ he said, patting her hand. Then, he turned towards her and grinned. ‘Why, I have the very answer. You can share my room here in the village.’
She glared at him. ‘Tom Westlake, you should be ashamed of yourself. This might be 1839 but folk would still make me an outcast. Besides, I’m not a strumpet, as well you know.’ She jumped down from the wall and went stomping back up Sea Hill.
‘Wait, Lily!’ Tom shouted, running after her and catching her by the arm. ‘I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to suggest. It’s just I’m that impatient for us to be together.’
Pulling away from him, she continued up the hill. How dare he spoil her happy news with such an outrageous proposal?
Cursing himself for upsetting her, Tom hastily plucked a handful of pink sea thrift from the side of the cliff, and again hurried after her.
‘I’m sorry, Lily,’ he said. ‘Please accept these sea roses by way of apology.’
Ready to give him a piece of her mind, she whirled round to face him but when she saw him meekly holding out the flowers, looking more like a naughty schoolboy than the grown man she’d vowed to marry, her anger evaporated like a summer mist.
‘Tom Westlake, I’d thank you to take this seriously,’ she admonished.
‘Yes, miss,’ he said, giving her a mock salute, but her thoughts were racing again as they continued their way up the hill together.
‘There’s nothing for it, I’ll just have to tell Mrs Bodney I can’t take the position.’
‘Now don’t be hasty, Lily. Think it all through before you make a decision,’ Tom advised, before stopping and peering at the horizon. ‘That’s a fair old mackerel sky and we’ve had the dry: you’d best be getting home. Wind’s freshening; there’ll be rain before dark.’
‘You’re right. I’ve been away since daybreak and Rob will be wondering what’s happened to me.’
‘Wait,’ Tom said, and she watched as he ran down to the beach. He returned moments later holding out a parcel.
‘Here, some fish for your tea,’ he puffed. ‘I’ll wager you’ve not eaten since first thing.’
As if on cue, Lily’s stomach rumbled. How well he knew her. Smiling gratefully, she turned and walked back up the cliff path. Gingerly, she picked her way through the furze that edged the track. The fulmars, perching on the cliffs with their young, spat in warning as she passed. She quickened her pace, keeping as far from them as she could, for the oil they projected not only stank but was hard to remove from clothing. When she was safely past their nesting sites she turned to wave, but Tom was already preparing to sail out on the evening tide.
‘Godspeed and bring you home safely, my love,’ she whispered before continuing on her way.
CHAPTER 2
Already the sky was darkening with heavy clouds lowering to the west ahead of her, and the tang of salt carried on the wind stung her lips. As waves pounded the shore below, so Lily’s thoughts pounded her brain. She really wanted this job and, goodness only knows, they needed the money, but if she worked in Bransbeer, who would look after her family in Coombe? The light was fading completely by the time she reached the straggling hamlet. As she headed past the thatched inn opposite the rickety old forge, her own cottage came into view and, just as Tom had predicted, the heavens opened.
Pulling her shawl tighter against the biting wind and driving rain, she stifled a yawn. It had been a long day
and all she wanted to do was go straight to bed, but Rob and Beth would be waiting for their dinner. Since the accident, her elder brother could manage only the lighter tasks like tending the chickens. Of course he did a good job of looking after their four-year-old sister, enabling Lily to concentrate on her lace making, but that did not ease her household burden. With her thoughts a jumble, she let herself inside.
‘I’m home,’ she called, throwing her wet shawl onto its nail by the door. Going through the tiny scullery to the living room, she saw Robert sitting by the fire, cradling Beth on his knee. That’s strange, Lily thought; usually her little sister ran to meet her. Then she noticed they were both looking subdued and she heard raised voices coming from the adjoining bedroom. Before she could ask what was going on, a figure appeared in the doorway.
‘Lily dear, you’re home at last.’
‘Aunt Elizabeth,’ she gasped in surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘The children I’ve been caring for are being sent to school and my services are no longer required. Having time to spare, I decided to pay a visit, and not a moment too soon from what I can see.’
‘Is Mother all right?’ Lily asked, noticing her aunt’s flushed cheeks. ‘I’ll let her know I’m home,’ she said, turning towards the door.
Aunt Elizabeth pursed her thin lips. ‘She seems, well, distracted, is the only way I can describe it, so I’d let her be, Lily. When I arrived back from Exeter and heard about the dreadful accident, I was that upset I came straight over on the donkey-cart. Really, your mother should have let me know.’
Lily put her hand to her head, wishing she could wipe away the memory of that terrible time. Nightmares of the heavy roof timbers and cob wall crashing down on her poor father’s body as the byre collapsed had haunted her ever since.
‘Why, child, you look fair worn out,’ Aunt Elizabeth said, patting her arm. ‘Sit down and warm yourself by the fire. I’ll go and see if there’s anything to rustle up for supper.’
‘Tom gave me these fish.’ Lily handed over the parcel, then sank thankfully down on the floor beside the blaze. Beth came over and snuggled against her. Smiling, Lily put her arms around her and pulled her close.