The Shoemaker

by Lisa Prysock

  As the formalities of introductions and light conversation continued, the party was served hot tea and scones in a comfortable, spacious Drawing Room. They talked about the recent snowfall and how excited they were about the Christmas Dinner to be held at Hillbrook Hall that evening.

  “Tonight’s dinner will be the first formal event I’ve attended since my husband’s passing,” Lady Bouverie mentioned. “I am looking forward to celebrating Christmas with you. My husband would have wanted me to go on being happy and living life a little, as your parents would want the three of you to do.”

  “Yes, he certainly would have, Lady Bouverie, and yes, our parents would have wanted that as well,” Kingston agreed.

  “Kingston, we must help our families to move forward and show the world how merciful the good Lord is to each of us even in the hard times,” Lady Bouverie added as she looked at each of them thoughtfully.

  “Yes, I feel the very same way,” Lady Amiée-Jo offered.

  “I notice you are looking pensive, Miss Lyndon. I’m sure you would also agree that we must not remain in a state of deep mourning over our losses forever.”

  Winnie bit her lower lip. In the minutes that had passed, she was thinking of Cameron Julia. Little Cammy, as they had fondly called her. She looked out of the window just beyond Lady Bouverie’s shoulder as she spoke, vividly recalling how death had snatched the life out of her little sister with a high fever until her body had gone limp forever. “Yes, I do… I do agree. We never really get completely over the loss, but we do learn to go on. We survive. As the days go by, we are comforted knowing we will one day be reunited.”

  “You are no stranger to loss,” Lady Bouverie said as all eyes turned on Miss Lyndon.

  Winnie drew in a short breath for strength. What frightened her most was that she could barely remember some things about Cammy as time went on, but she could see her sweet little face, her little brown eyes, her dark curls… “Yes. I lost my little sister when she was four. It was tragic, almost debilitating for years. Sometimes I still wake up in a cold sweat or with a nightmare when I remember it. Times of great duress can be difficult for me. I seem to be susceptible to periods of grief at times, even though it’s been years now. It does get better with the passage of time.”

  “’Tis dreadful! Losing a child, a younger sibling like that is heart breaking…” Lady Bouverie responded. “You must come and walk the gardens with me when you need it most, Miss Lyndon, Kingston, girls… all of you. I extend that invitation to each of you. Though it’s miserable now, it is quite beautiful in the spring and summer, though I know Hillbrook Hall has an equally beautiful garden.”

  Anne-Marie and Amiée-Jo murmured with sighs of appreciation and nods, and Kingston shifted in his seat. “Thank you,” he said as he accepted a pastry from a footman bearing a tray with a variety of items. “We would be delighted to see your gardens. I don’t think I’ve seen them since I was a child. As I recall, they were beautiful and tranquil. How is your son handling the loss? I find it distracting at times.”

  “He seems to be doing far better than I, though at times I think I am faring better than he. The abbey keeps him busy. There is so much to be done,” she answered as Sir Bouverie burst out in laughter with the other ladies. “In fact, why don’t we take you on a tour of the abbey now? He seems in very good spirits. Thank you! Thank you for bringing us sunshine and cheer today. I haven’t heard him laugh like that in ages.”

  Sir Edward Bouverie led the party through each of the four ranges of the abbey which faced a courtyard. The property featured a walled garden, orchards, and a fruit and vegetable garden. As Sir Bouverie led them through each range, he gave them a few tidbits of fascinating history. Winnie learned that the Abbey of Saint Mary de la Pré had been built around 1145 by Simon, son of Simon de Senlis, second Earl of Northampton. It served as a Cluniac monastery of nuns; a reform movement of Benedictine life. He showed them the nave and the location of the choir, beautifully preserved, which had now become a family chapel for the Bouverie family. She could not help but imagine the nuns spending many an hour in prayer for the nation of England and the inhabitants of their beloved country at the altar and railings which separated the nave from the choir. As Bouverie continued his discourse, she also learned that the abbey was situated in the meadows of the River Nene, south of Northampton.

  The party found it fascinating to learn that the body of Queen Eleanor, wife of King Edward I, rested at the abbey on the way to London. The King had stayed overnight at the Castle of Northampton during the passage. He had specially carved crosses erected at Delapré Abbey to mark the passage. Bouverie pointed these out from another window.

  “In 1460,” Sir Bouverie continued as they paused at another window overlooking a large span of meadow, “the Battle of Northampton took place in this general direction. As you may recall from your study of history, it was known as one of the battles of the War of the Roses, a battle between the Yorkists and Lancastrians; eventually resolved by a marriage which united the two. It is believed that the nuns were able to view the battle from this very window. Perhaps their prayers had a positive influence upon the outcome which unified our nation. The nuns of the abbey also tended the wounded after the battle.”

  As they passed through the rooms thought to have been the sleeping quarters for the nuns, he explained that the abbey was surrendered to the crown in 1538 in the days of Henry VIII. When they toured the library, Winnie couldn’t help but become engrossed in the portraits and books as she imagined the prior abbesses studying through the long winter days and nights beside a fireplace and tea table.

  “Thank you for the tour, Sir Bouverie!” Lady Myriah gushed as the last of the ladies poured out of the abbey into the sleighs.

  “Oh, you are quite welcome! Quite welcome! We will see you later this evening!” he said cheerfully, waving to the ladies.

  “Where’s Winnie?” Kingston asked, looking around, as he straightened his Cossack.

  “I haven’t seen her in a while,” Lady Amiée-Jo responded, looking about for signs of their new companion as she pulled on her gloves.

  “She’s so quiet at times,” Lady Anne-Marie remarked, buttoning her long coat. “I didn’t even notice she wasn’t with us, but I don’t think I’ve seen her in quite a while either. She could be absolutely anywhere!”

  “Yes, I realize that,” Kingston said, a concerned look spreading over his face.

  “Are you certain she isn’t in the sleigh?” Sir Bouverie asked.

  Kingston stepped outside the main entrance doors to have another look. She wasn’t anywhere to be found. He stepped back inside where his sisters were looking about anxiously with Lady Bouverie, wondering where Miss Lyndon might be.

  “Anne-Marie, I’m going to stay behind and retrace our steps through the abbey. We will have to conduct a thorough search, but my guess is that the lovely Miss Lyndon has buried her nose in a book back in the abbess library. That’s the last place I remember seeing her. The drivers will see to it that you arrive home safely. We’ll be along as soon as possible. You had best head toward home so the ladies have time to rest and dress for tonight’s dinner.”

  “Are you sure Xander?” she asked her brother. “The abbess library…? ‘Twas almost a half an hour ago…”

  “Yes, I know. She has a keen interest in books,” Kingston explained. “I’ll have a word with the drivers.” He stepped out to speak with both sleigh drivers, assisting his sisters as they followed and climbed into the sleighs. Once back inside the abbey, the doors firmly shut out the crisp, chilly air.

  “Mother, you go and have a lie down. I don’t want you to feel exhausted this evening.” Edward spoke to his mother gently.

  “Oh, Edward, we’ve lost Miss Lyndon… the abbey can be so overwhelming at first.”

  “Have no fear. We shall find her!” Kingston interjected as he stepped back inside. “If you’ll lead the way Sir Edward…”

  “I’ll just ask our butler and a few footmen to mak
e up another search party.” Sir Bouverie began organizing his staff at once.

  “Good thinking!” The Duke nodded, looking nervously at his watch.

  Psalm 37:23, KJV

  The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way.

  Chapter 5

  No. 29 Abington Street

  Kingston found himself somewhere between mild agitation to retrace his steps and delight that he would have yet another opportunity to be alone with the delightful, attractive Miss Catherine Edwina Lyndon. He had to remind himself to be on his best behavior toward the vicar’s daughter. He chided himself for having grown so immersed in the historical account and architecture of the abbey that he had momentarily lost track of her whereabouts. They traversed a number of halls and climbed at least two staircases, peeking in almost every unlocked door as they went, each step taking them closer to discovering the location of the presently illusive companion.

  When Sir Bouverie encountered a few of his footmen and stopped to have a word with them, Kingston realized he was within a few doors of the library door. He went ahead and opened the door, leaving Bouverie to search the other rooms. He drew in a breath of relief to find her exactly as he had pictured she would be: sunlight streaming over her golden brown hair where she was seated near a window for the most effective reading light; her dark purple, velvety pelisse and the matching skirt of her walking dress wrapping her in warmth; her head bent over a book in which she was so deeply engrossed she hadn’t heard him enter.

  “There you are,” Kingston said softly, trying not to startle her. He drew close enough to peer at the cover of the book. “Reading The Reformed Pastor by…?”

  She looked up at him as if he had always been there. Seeing he couldn’t quite make out the author’s name, “Richard Baxter, a Puritan, published in 1615. Listen to this advice to clergymen…” She paused to flip to a page near the beginning and began to read to him, “’See that the work of saving grace be thoroughly wrought in your own souls. Take heed to yourselves, lest you be void of that saving grace of God which you offer to others, and be strangers to the effectual working of that gospel which you preach; and lest, while you proclaim to the world the necessity of a Savior, your own hearts should neglect him, and you should miss of an interest in him and his saving benefits. Take heed to yourselves, lest you perish, while you call upon others to take heed of perishing; and lest you famish yourselves while you prepare food for them. Though there is a promise of shining as the stars, to those ‘who turn many to righteousness,’ that is but on supposition that they are first turned to it themselves.’ I wonder if my father has read any of Baxter’s work.”

  ‘That is from the first chapter of his book, titled ‘The Oversight of Ourselves.’ He goes on to say: ‘Many a tailor goes in rags, that maketh costly clothes for others; and many a cook scarcely licks his fingers, when he hath dressed for others the most costly dishes. Believe it, brethren, God never saved any man for being a preacher, nor because he was an able preacher; but because he was a justified, sanctified man, and consequently faithful in his Master’s work. Take heed, therefore, to ourselves first, that you he that which you persuade your hearers to be, and believe that which you persuade them to believe, and heartily entertain that Savior whom you offer to them. He that bade you love your neighbors as yourselves, did imply that you should love yourselves, and not hate and destroy yourselves and them.’”

  “Are we not each of us needful of this reminder? I have had many thoughts much the same as I consider my own behaviors and walk with God. When we turn to Christ we must all live with similar heartiness and fortitude, wearying not as we serve, trying to do our utmost and best as we try to persuade some to follow Him with us,” he commented, one hand leaning on the wall as he looked down at her, another thrust in his pocket, holding back one side of his morning coat to reveal his a vest and an impeccably tied cravat.

  To this she looked up from the book, hearing Kingston’s statement as the first moment which gave her some bit of very real insight into the intent of his heart and that which governed him spiritually and morally. Something about the way she peered at him gave him the idea that it was the first moment in which Catherine gave him any real consideration as a possible suitor.

  “My thoughts concur and I strive to keep myself in the right place with God,” she replied, closing the book. “Where is everyone?”

  “They have gone home to Hillbrook Hall… and I, along with Sir Bouverie, have organized a small search party, having been distressed by your disappearance.” He said this with a curve at the corner of his mouth, a slight degree of amusement in his tone.

  “It seems I am indebted to you again for rescuing me, this time not from our Christmas goose, but an enjoyable hour well spent in the company of great books.”

  Just then, Sir Bouverie entered the room, two footmen trailing behind. She turned a shade of red as she stood up and replaced the book. “Oh dear, I haven’t meant to distress everyone. There is something about libraries that is vastly appealing to me. I can’t seem to divest myself of them in short order whenever I am in the vicinity of one.”

  “Ah, here she is. I am so glad we have found you. Permit me to dispatch the footmen to notify the butler.” With a nod, the footmen disappeared.

  Turning back to the Duke and the previously missing companion, “Mother will be greatly relieved. You are most welcome to return to our library at any time, Miss Lyndon,” Sir Bouverie announced, attempting to put her at ease. “We would be delighted to have someone take an avid interest in the volumes we have managed to collect for our shelves.”

  “You are in danger of having a friend for life as my encounter here at Delapré Abbey has been deeply rewarding with your graciousness to me, Sir Edward,” she said warmly as they exited the library. “Lady Bouverie has offered her gardens, and you, the library; two of my favorite things in life.”

  “How can we deny such a charming and welcome guest?” Sir Bouverie returned as the party advanced down the hall and then a staircase. “We hope this will be the beginning of many return visits. Though ‘tis our safe haven from the world, these ancient abbey halls can feel dreary and lonely when we do not share them.”

  When good-byes had been said and they were bundled up, the Duke helped her into the sleigh. He climbed in and took the reins, carefully steering the sleigh under an arch proceeding out of the court yard. Catherine, clutching the bag of shoes she had left inside the sleigh during their tour asked, “I know I’ve already caused a delay, but since we are only a mile from the center of Northampton as Sir Edward mentioned on the tour, would you be so kind as to deliver me to a respectable cobbler that I might make arrangements for repair to a favorite set of shoes?”

  Kingston pulled the sleigh to a stop before choosing the direction he would travel on the road before them. He considered her request, and removing a glove, unbuttoned his great coat to pull out his pocket watch to observe the time. “It’s only about three o’clock. If we don’t dawdle, it should be a fine day for you to see a little of Northampton. We won’t have much time if you are to have adequate time to prepare for tonight’s dinner.”

  “It shouldn’t take too long,” she remarked. “Bertha pecked some of the satin on these mules. My sister will be heartbroken. They are on loan.”

  Her eyes looked so hopeful; he didn’t have the heart to tell her no. “Well, Mother was always a patron of Seth Wilmore’s shop on Abington Street, not far from the square. The ladies rave about this shoemaker, though I am not privy as to why exactly. My mother insisted her patronage had much to do with his manner and expertise. From all I have observed, I concur. The family lives above the shop in the garret. His wife, Anna, along with their sons and a daughter help run the business. He specializes in ladies’ shoes, but they make shoes and boots for men, also. I believe he does shoe repairs… or at least he has for my family from time to time. I’ll take you there.” He snapped the reins and pulled gently on one of the reins until the sle
igh turned in the direction of the town square, the bells on the horses ringing out cheerfully.

  The town had a number of shoemakers she realized as they passed three or four before Kingston pulled the sleigh to a stop at No. 29, the shop with the ‘W’ engraved on the outside walls for ‘Wilmore.’ In passing so many shoemakers, she now understood why Northampton was known for shoes. They had passed at least five other shops with shoes in their windows. The particular shop before them displayed a sign dangling from chains above the door that read “Custom Shoes by Wilmore & Sons.” Red lettering painted in one of the windows read “Established 1678.” A set of women’s metal pattens seemed to catch and reflect a brilliant ray of sunlight in one corner of the window.

  “Goodness, this shop has been around for nearly two-hundred years!” she commented as he helped her out of the sleigh and tethered the horse to a post.

  “Yes, and they’ve been shoemakers for longer than that,” he said. “His family is one of the early families of Northampton. They have generations of shoemakers in the line going back to the 1400’s Seth told me one day. When the shop moved to this street and this building after the Great Fire of Northampton in 1675 that nearly destroyed much of the town, I believe that’s when they considered themselves established.”

  “I see,” she said approvingly as they neared the door.

  “Come this way,” he said, pulling her farther down the walk. “You’ll enjoy this!” They paused outside before a window on the far right of the shop where a set of drapes were open to reveal a girl seated at a work table pushed up against the window. She smiled up at them pleasantly and continued her work, quickly sewing embellishments on a pair of ladies’ shoes. They admired her work for a time as it was a treat to see how elegant shoes were completed.