by Linda Finlay
‘Hello. I don’t know who you are, but you’ve certainly enjoyed gathering those, haven’t you?’ Spinning round, Rowan saw a dark-haired woman smiling at her. She had the same twinkling eyes as Mrs Acland, only these were tinged violet rather than blue and she was stylishly dressed in a lilac dress edged with purple. Her outfit was topped by the most elaborate bonnet Rowan had ever seen.
‘Hello, I’m Rowan and I’m staying with Mrs Acland,’ she said.
‘Then you must be a guest of my mother’s. I’m Louisa, her daughter.’
‘Louisa, whatever are you doing here?’ Mrs Acland cried in delight, appearing through the French doors.
‘I’ve just been fitting Lady Lawton for her new summer outfits, and thought I’d call and see my favourite mother,’ Louisa answered. ‘And to show off my latest creation,’ she added, pointing to her bonnet and giving an elegant pirouette. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s quite stunning, isn’t it, Rowan?’ Mrs Acland asked, clapping her hands.
Rowan studied the creation carefully.
‘Well, Rowan, don’t you approve?’ Louisa asked, frowning when Rowan hesitated.
‘Erm, well, that is …’
‘Spit it out, girl,’ Louisa persisted, giving Rowan a penetrating stare.
Never one to lie, Rowan took a deep breath. ‘I agree it is stunning, but can’t help thinking the strong hues of the material overpower your delicate features. You have such beautiful violet eyes and …’ she stammered to a halt as Louisa’s eyes narrowed.
‘And?’
‘I think that if you were to front the purple with a soft lilac, rather than that strong fuchsia it would enhance rather than drain your natural fair colouring, and would do more justice to the shape of your bonnet. A bluer shade of periwinkle would also work well,’ she stammered.
Mrs Acland’s tinkling laugh resounded round the garden. ‘Rowan’s right, you know, daughter. I can see exactly what she means. The bonnet and decoration are a masterpiece but gentler, paler colours would definitely be more flattering on you.’
‘But these stronger colours are in the latest mode, and as a milliner I need to make a statement by showing I’m aware of that. People look to me to set an example,’ Louisa insisted.
‘Of course, and I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but …’ Rowan mumbled to a halt again.
‘But … ? Come along, you’ve got this far so you may as well finish what you wish to say,’ Louisa said, her violet eyes darkening as they bored into Rowan’s.
Rowan took a deep breath. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, I would be more apt to follow someone who adapted the latest mode to flatter their own colouring.’
There was silence as Louisa stood there taking in what Rowan had said.
‘Rowan pointed out how softer coloured silks would work better for the sweet peas on my embroidery,’ Mrs Acland said, breaking the silence. I have to admit I was sceptical, thinking it would make the flowers fade into the background. Amazingly, she was right and now all the blooms harmonize and have a vibrancy about them. The whole piece has sprung to life. Come inside and see,’ she said, taking Louisa by the hand.
Giving Rowan an unfathomable stare, Louisa let herself be led away. Rowan let out a rush of air. Perhaps she should have held her counsel; she didn’t know Louisa, after all. Oh, well, it was too late now, she thought, taking the flowers into the cool of the stillroom where vases had been laid out ready.
As she busied herself arranging the various blooms, she couldn’t help noticing the shelves were neatly lined with jars of perfumes, cordials and cure-alls. It was a fascinating array and she could have spent ages perusing the neatly written labels. However, aware that she might have offended Mrs Acland’s daughter with her outspoken opinion, she focused her attentions on creating the best floral arrangements she could.
Back indoors, there was no sign of Mrs Acland or Louisa, but she could see the little maid bustling around preparing the dining room. Already the table was laid with silver candelabra, crystal glasses and starched white napkins. Clearly, modest house or not, it was going to be an elaborate dinner. Pleased that she had an elegant outfit to wear, Rowan determined to do something with her unruly curls.
‘I’ve left the vases of flowers in the stillroom, Daisy. I’ll be in my room if Mrs Acland should want me,’ she called as she made her way upstairs.
‘Thank yous, miss,’ the maid called back, continuing with her chores.
Rowan spent ages twisting her hair into ringlets, which she curled around her head like a coronet. She’d just finished when Daisy bustled in to attend to the fire, draw the drapes and light the candles.
‘Yous looks like a princess,’ she cried. ‘Cook’s having kittens ’cos the jelly that should have set hasn’t, and the sauce that should be smooth is curdled. She’s in a right two and eight and said me wasn’t to be long, so if yous don’t need me for anything else me better scootle back to the kitchen.’
‘I can manage perfectly, thank you, Daisy,’ Rowan said, smiling as the little maid paused for breath. ‘You scootle back to Cook.’
As the little maid scurried away, Rowan shook her head. Fancy having someone there to pull your drapes and add fuel to the fire as it burned low. It was so unlike life on the farm, where all these jobs had been hers.
By this time the shadows were gathering in the corners of the room. Carefully Rowan dressed in her silk ensemble, pinched colour into her pale cheeks and, after a final check in the mirror, crept down the stairs.
‘You look delightful, Rowan,’ Mr Acland exclaimed, looking over his paper as she hovered nervously in the doorway. ‘May I get you something to drink?’ he asked, indicating the decanters on the sideboard.
‘No, thank you, Mr Acland,’ she said politely.
‘Rowan, dear, how charming you look,’ Mrs Acland said, coming into the room. ‘Doesn’t she look stylish, Louisa?’ she asked, turning to her daughter.
‘Yes, indeed she does, Mother,’ Louisa answered, moving closer to Rowan and carefully scrutinizing her dress. ‘How long did this take you to make?’ she asked.
‘About three days.’
‘What, for the whole outfit?’ Louisa exclaimed.
Rowan nodded. Oh dear, she had wanted to get it right, but perhaps she shouldn’t have taken so long.
Then they heard the jangling of the front doorbell followed by the sound of voices. Moments later Verity stood regally in the doorway, and as a wave of expensive perfume wafted in her direction Rowan tried hard not to sneeze.
‘Good evening, Alexander,’ Verity said, kissing his cheek. Rowan saw him turn his head quickly away and guessed he wasn’t enamoured by the musky scent either. ‘Dorothea, how kind of you to invite me,’ she gushed to Mrs Acland. ‘And, Louisa, I had no idea you would be here,’ she said.
‘Nor I, actually, Verity,’ Louisa answered.
As Verity deliberately turned her back on Rowan, Mrs Acland took hold of her arm. ‘Verity, I believe I introduced you to Rowan when we met in the park the other afternoon,’ Mrs Acland said. ‘Rowan is here as our house guest, and as she is new to the area, we are doing our best to make her feel welcome,’ she added pointedly.
‘Oh, is this the girl from your asylum, Alexander? Really, I must say I was surprised when my coach driver informed me of his conversation with Coggins,’ she said with a sniff.
‘As I said, Rowan is staying here at our invitation. Should I find that Coggins has been divulging private household information, he will be severely reprimanded,’ Mrs Acland said sharply. ‘Now, Verity, can Alexander get you a drink before we dine?’
‘No, thank you, Dorothea,’ Verity said stiffly as she turned to Louisa. ‘I need a new ensemble, sweetie, so can you pop up to the hall whilst you are here and measure me up, or whatever it is you need to do?’
Louisa smiled politely. ‘I’d be delighted to,’ she began and then, as Verity grinned in her superior manner, added, ‘However, I regret to say my list is now closed for the season.’ Ve
rity pursed her bottom lip in a most unladylike manner. ‘You could always ask Rowan here if she can help you. Her tailoring and sewing are quite superb.’
Rowan stared at Louisa in amazement.
‘And have you been trained as a mantua maker or milliner?’ Verity asked, staring down at Rowan, who was some inches shorter than she.
‘Well, no,’ Rowan stammered.
‘In that case, I hardly think a chit of a girl fresh from the asylum can be of any help to me,’ she sneered, turning away.
CHAPTER 23
How rude, Rowan thought, staring at Verity in astonishment. She turned to Louisa, who just shrugged, but Mrs Acland was frowning. Not wishing to upset her hostess who’d had been so kind, Rowan looked around for a means of escape.
‘Don’t take it personally, Rowan,’ Louisa said, as if reading her thoughts. ‘It’s just Verity’s way.’ They watched as the woman glided over to Alexander and stood smiling up at him.
‘Darling, I haven’t seen you in ages,’ she gushed, turning so that her back was to the rest of them. Seeing he was cornered, a look of near panic crossed his face and Rowan’s heart went out to him. Luckily, his mother had also noticed.
‘Well, everyone, I think it’s time we went through for dinner,’ she announced. Verity uttered something unladylike and Louisa caught Rowan’s eye and grinned. Then, as Alexander politely waited for the ladies to lead off, Verity took hold of his arm.
‘You may take me in, darling. We’ll sit opposite each other and then we can catch up on all our news,’ she purred, her amber eyes glinting so that Rowan was reminded of a tiger with its prey in sight.
‘Perhaps you would pour our wine, Alexander,’ Mrs Acland said, smiling graciously at Verity as she tugged on the bell pull. Daisy appeared almost immediately, trundling in the soup tureen on a trolley.
‘What on earth is that monstrosity, girl?’ Verity asked, pointing to her wrist.
‘ ’Tis me circle of life,’ Daisy answered proudly.
‘Since when do servants wear daisy chains, Dorothea?’ Verity enquired.
‘I wears me circle like Rowan does,’ Daisy whispered.
‘Oh, I see; it’s an emblem of servitude, is it?’ Verity sneered, staring pointedly at Rowan’s ribbon.
As the room fell silent, Rowan made an effort to smile. Verity wasn’t a tiger at all, she thought. That was far too grand an animal to liken to a woman with such appalling manners. No, an alley cat would be far more appropriate. Daisy, not knowing what to do, hovered uncertainly, then turned to her employer for guidance.
‘You may serve us now, if you would be so kind, Daisy,’ Mrs Acland said, smiling at her encouragingly.
The little maid nodded, carefully lifted the tureen and took it over to Verity.
‘The other side, girl,’ the woman snapped.
Daisy’s lip wobbled. ‘But if I go over to the other side of the table me arm won’t reach yous,’ she said.
‘Not the other side of the table, you fool. To my right; you serve from my right,’ Verity said, shaking her head in exasperation. ‘Really, Dorothea, surely your servants should be properly trained before they come to you. Not that you need worry, my dear,’ she said, turning to Alexander and placing her hand on his arm. ‘When you make me your wife, I shall ensure our servants behave impeccably,’ she said, and although Alexander smiled in response, he remained silent.
Rowan couldn’t believe it. This man, who had been so self-assured at the asylum, wasn’t saying anything. Was he was merely being polite at his mother’s dinner table? Or was he a coward like her father, acceding to his woman’s whims? As that unwelcome thought flitted into her mind, she forced herself back to the present.
‘Daisy is new here and she is doing very well,’ Mrs Acland said mildly, turning to the maid. ‘If you would kindly see that Miss Landsdowne is served from her preferred right, Daisy, I would be most grateful.’ The little maid did as she’d been asked and then looked askance at Mrs Acland. ‘You may serve the rest of us in the normal way, Daisy. It is the food and company that are important to us here.’
Seeing Verity’s mouth tighten, Rowan smiled. It would appear that Mrs Acland was the tiger, after all. Although a true lady, she had clearly put the woman in her place without seeming in the least bit rude.
‘Of course, things would be very different if your father were here,’ Verity said to Alexander. He smiled uncomfortably.
‘Indeed they would be,’ Mrs Acland agreed. ‘Now shall we eat before Cook’s delicious white soup goes cold?’
They concentrated on their food and an appreciative hush descended. Despite the earlier confrontation, Rowan found to her surprise that she was hungry. After a quick glance at Mrs Acland to ensure she was using the correct spoon, she ate her soup with relish. The table was beautifully set, but never had she seen so many glasses or so much cutlery laid out for one meal before. How glad she was that it wasn’t up to her to do the washing up, although she would offer to help, of course. Alexander finished his soup first and carefully placed his spoon on the side of the plate beneath his bowl.
‘That was delicious, Mother. Cook at her finest, I think,’ he said, giving Mrs Acland a conspiratorial grin. ‘The flowers in here are beautiful, especially those Lent rosums. Who arranged them?’ he asked, gazing at Rowan expectantly.
‘Ah, roses, I just adore them,’ Verity cut in, fluttering her eyelashes at him.
‘Actually, I arranged the daffodils,’ Rowan explained, emphasizing the word ‘daffodils’.
‘It is lovely to see them displayed in their own golden glory instead of being mixed with other flowers, although those are beautifully arranged as well,’ he said, ignoring Verity and smiling at Rowan. The woman glared down the table at her with such vitriol, Rowan almost expected her to hiss as well.
‘I understand their sap can be poisonous to other blooms,’ Rowan said quickly.
‘A bit like some people, then,’ Louisa said with a pointed look in Verity’s direction.
‘Well, I hate flowers being brought indoors. They carry insects and creepy crawlies and should remain in the garden where they belong,’ Verity said, giving a dramatic shudder.
Alexander raised his eyebrows at Rowan, and she quickly raised her napkin to her lips to stop herself from laughing out loud.
As the fish course was placed before them, Rowan glanced at Mrs Acland, noting which cutlery she picked up. Louisa noticed and smiled at her encouragingly. She seemed as nice as her mother, Rowan thought.
‘Have you given any thought to what you will do when you leave here, Rowan?’ Louisa asked.
‘I have been thinking of nothing else. Of course, I am really grateful for the kind hospitality I have been shown,’ she added quickly. ‘I am good at household chores and willing to help.’
‘Indeed,’ Verity agreed. Then her amber eyes gleamed with mischief. ‘Alexander, I have just had the most marvellous idea. Rowan could come and work for us when we are wed. I’m sure with the correct training she would be able to manage the duties of a parlour maid satisfactorily,’ she said, shooting a triumphant look in Rowan’s direction.
Alexander frowned.
‘Goodness, Rowan, there seems to be quite a demand for your services this evening,’ Louisa said quickly. Rowan looked at her in surprise. ‘I also have a proposition for you, but thought it only polite to leave talking about it until we have finished our meal,’ she added, with a smile.
‘You mean you wish to have Rowan as your maid?’ Verity asked, raising her eyebrows. Rowan looked at Louisa but she was busy answering Verity.
‘I’m afraid my premises in Saltmouth aren’t large enough to warrant that,’ Louisa replied.
‘Oh?’
‘No, Verity, my living quarters are above my shop, as you would have seen had you taken the trouble to visit me.’
‘Ah, yes, I’d quite forgotten you are trade now,’ Verity said with a sniff. ‘Of course, I get my business people to call at the hall whenever I require anything. Now, Al
exander, I really feel we need to do some serious planning about the future,’ she continued.
‘Oh, do you?’ he asked, glancing in his mother’s direction before turning back again. He really did seem uncomfortable, Rowan thought, and what had Louisa meant about having a proposition for her?
She had no opportunity to ask, though, for Verity monopolized Alexander throughout the rest of the meal. Mrs Acland and Louisa caught up with local affairs, leaving Rowan to her own thoughts, for which she was grateful. Savouring the delicious food, she mulled over her own prospects. What was she going to do? And where could she go? Returning to the farm was not an option, and although Mrs Acland hadn’t been anything other than hospitable, Rowan knew she couldn’t stay here indefinitely.
‘Well, if everyone has finished, I think we shall take our coffee in the drawing room,’ Mrs Acland announced, getting to her feet. No sooner had they settled themselves into the comfortable chairs than the maid appeared with the tray. ‘Thank you, Daisy. We can pour our own drinks so you may leave us now. Please convey our compliments to Cook for providing such a splendid meal.’
The little maid beamed, began to bob a curtsy and then remembered it wasn’t necessary and scuttled from the room.
‘Oh dear, dear, dear,’ Verity sighed. ‘Much training still needed there, Dorothea, I think. Why don’t you pour our coffee?’ she asked, turning to Rowan, amber eyes glinting.
‘Yes, of course,’ Rowan answered, getting up and walking over to the table that was set in the bay window.
‘Oh, what dinky little bows on your slippers,’ Verity said. ‘Of course they were the height of fashion last season.’
‘And this one, in fact,’ Louisa said.
Verity stared at her in disbelief. ‘Surely not?’
‘Why, yes, Lady Arlingham ordered some only yesterday,’ Louisa added.
‘Rowan, what are you doing?’ Verity’s shrill voice cut across the room, making her jump so that she almost spilled hot liquid onto the embroidered tray cloth. Coffee pot in hand, she turned towards the woman. ‘You are putting the coffee in before the milk,’ Verity said in a horrified voice. ‘Are you completely ignorant? The hot liquid will crack Dorothea’s delicate china.’