The Spinsters Secret

by Monroe, Jennifer

  The woman laughed. “Not at all. I admit that I do not act as such when I am home or with my family. However, if I am out and about,” —she leaned in and lowered her voice— “which I assure you is quite a rare occasion when we are in production, I make all attempts to stay in character as much as possible.”

  Although she had put into practice what they woman had taught her as she played the part of the clumsy spinster, the conversation played in Alice’s head in a much different light on this journey. If she was to pretend to be someone other than who she was, then it was clear she needed to act and appear to be that person.

  For two days, no one with whom she could practice was about, so how was she to ‘become’ this new person? Then she had stumbled across a Miss Sarah Crombly, a young woman who had a terrible story to tell about a father who had gambled away her hand in marriage to what Sarah described as a terrible monster in both appearance and actions. Alice had felt sorry for the woman and did not blame her in the least for wishing to escape such a horrible situation. Alice had learned through her experience with Miss Crombly that she was not alone in her need to flee an unwanted marriage, and that had reassured her she was doing the right thing.

  However, what Alice benefited the most from her encounter with the animated woman was the opportunity to try her hand at living as Alice McMalley, a poor runaway from the small village of Carlisle situated just south of the Scottish border. She was fortunate the woman had not asked her for details on the village, for Alice had never actually been further north of England than London itself. She had overheard one of the kitchen maids mention the place to the cook during one of Alice’s late-night excursions and that was how she even knew it existed.

  As luck would have it, Alice had been much more prepared for her journey than the poor Miss Crombly. The woman had not considered using a pseudonym, nor had she thought to dress the part of a woman of lesser means. Fortunately, the dresses Alice had exchanged for her gown also fit Miss Crombly, and Alice left the encounter quite proud that she had been able to help the woman in her escape. They had parted ways as friends, with Miss Crombly promising to write to Alice as soon as both were settled in their new lives.

  Alice’s thoughts of that time those few days ago were interrupted by the sound of the ocean. She had been so caught up in that strange, but exciting, meeting that she had lost track of where the road had led her. To her left was an astounding view. Blue waves rolled onto the shore and the sound they made on the rocks brought on a feeling of relaxation as the sun reflected off the glass-like surface.

  “I made it,” Alice whispered, a feeling of confidence and joy running through her. She had escaped one fate and was about to embark on another, better life.

  She found a place along the cliffs that led down to the rocky shore. The mist created by the water hitting the large boulders cooled her cheeks, and she closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of freedom that settled upon her. This was the beginning of her new life, and she could not wait to begin. Granted, she would miss her mother and father, but they had deceived her, and she would never forgive them for that. As for Lord Blackmoore, she hoped to never see the likes of him again.

  “Beautiful, is it not?” a voice asked from behind her.

  Alice turned toward an elderly woman with completely gray hair peeking from the large bonnet she wore. Her black dress was quite old fashioned with a high collar and black lace around the neck, cuffs, and bottom hem. Deep creases lined her face around her eyes, as if she had spent a good deal of her life smiling.

  “Yes, quite,” Alice replied.

  “It is called Roseland Walk,” the woman explained, although Alice had not asked. She did not mind, however, for she enjoyed listening to the history of the places she visited. “I have always adored the name, but that is probably because its name comes from Rhos, an old Celtic word for gorse.” She sighed heavily as she leaned against a large boulder. “It brings back memories of my childhood in Wales with my parents.”

  “What a pleasant memory,” Alice said.

  “Yes, well, it is all I have left at my age,” the woman said as she stared out over the ocean.

  The idea of the friendly old woman being of an age to think about death made Alice sad. “Thank you for telling me about this place,” she said with a smile. “Unfortunately, I must be on my way. I hope you have a pleasant day.”

  “And thank you for taking time to listen to an old woman,” the woman said.

  Alice gave her a quick nod and then made her way to her horse at the top of the cliff. She took one last look at the old woman who continued to look out over the ocean. She wished the woman well, and though Thomas was not there to enjoy it with her, she knew he would be happy for, and proud of, her for creating her own future.

  Her first action would be to find some sort of accommodation. She patted the bag that hung at her waist. As an unwed woman, the task would prove difficult; however, if she told people she was a widow, they would be willing take her money without issue, so that was what she would be. She was now Mrs. Alice McMalley, widow of Mr. McMalley of Carlisle, Cumberland who lost her husband to a band of highwaymen when he traveled to London for business. She was left to fend for herself but decided she needed a change. Since she had always wanted to visit Cornwall and wished to leave the memories of her now dead husband behind, she decided to sell her millinery and open a new shop in St. Mawes.

  Yes, that story would do nicely.

  The village of St. Mawes was a small village much like many villages Alice had seen on her journey and looked very much as it had four years prior when she had visited, though it was now busier than it had been then. She was pleasantly surprised at the number of fashionable women who walked down the footpaths, and she took note of the various hats they wore. Some she recognized as the latest fashions while others were simpler yet still beautiful. She went so far as to stop a woman.

  “Pardon me,” Alice said, “but is there a millinery in town?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” the woman replied. “I had to go all the way to St. Michaels to purchase the one I am now wearing. As it is, businesses in St. Mawes cater to men much more so than women.”

  The woman’s reply pleased Alice immensely. Good. She would be the only shop.

  More than an hour passed, as had several seedier establishments, before Alice found an inn that looked appealing. Set at the end of a long street which overlooked the pier, The Traveler’s Inn was just the place for a young widow to recover after a long journey. Just outside the door, a young man looked at her, his blue eyes peeking through a wave of blond hair. For a moment, she thought it might be Thomas, but when he spoke, she knew it could not be him.

  “‘Ello,” the man said, “can I take yer horse for ya?” He moved his hair from his face and revealed a pleasant smile and a freckled face.

  “Yes, please,” she replied. He helped her from the horse, untied her bag for her, and then led the horse around to the stables. When he was out of sight, Alice looked up at the inn and smiled. This was the first step to her new life. Although she knew she could not live at an inn, at least she would have a place to lay her head that was not on the ground as had been the case over the last nights.

  She entered through a large set of double doors. Sun shone through the two large windows on either side of the door, illuminating a large open foyer with gleaming wooden floors and a dark stained oak counter behind which stood a dapper gentleman in his middle years with a receding hairline that left only a bit of hair around the sides and back, as if his head had grown through and above his hair.

  “May I help you?” the man asked in a nasal tone that reminded Alice of some of the wealthier men with whom her father did business. The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight sneer, and it was then that Alice remembered she was wearing the dress she had taken from the farmhouse when she left home. Luckily, she had thought to bring more than one gown.

  “Yes, I would like lodgings, please.”

  The sneer on
the man’s lips did not recede but rather grew. “And how long will you be staying?”

  Alice had no idea how long it would take her to find a place to live, but she assumed she had plenty of money to last her for some time. “I am unsure at the moment, so let us just say a few days, perhaps even a week.”

  The man raised a single eyebrow but made no comment. “Very well. And under what name will I register you?”

  “Alice Hun…” She cleared her throat. “Mrs. Alice McMalley.”

  “Very well, Mrs. McMalley. I have a room available for the time you requested.” He turned and removed a key from a hook behind him and placed it on the counter. “It is located at the top of the stairs, third door on the right.”

  “Thank you,” Alice replied as she picked up the key and leaned down to grab her bag. “

  The room, as Alice expected, was extremely small with a small bed, a wardrobe, and a stand with a cracked pitcher. Her dress had worked in making her appear less wealthy than she was, for if she had been wearing the blue gown that she had worn when she left Glassberry Estate, the clerk most certainly would not have offered her such accommodations. However, she had her freedom and that was worth much more than a lavish room.

  ***

  As it turned out, the inn had a room where food and ale were served. Alice took a look around at her surroundings. Many people sat at tables engaged in conversation, some wealthier than others, and most had not seemed to take notice of her, for which she was relieved. The fewer people who spoke to her, the better. The burlap dress irritated her skin, and it was difficult for her to keep from scratching and shifting in her seat to relieve the sensation. She also regretted how revealing it was. Two men who sat three tables down glanced over at her, and on several occasions raised their pint glasses at her as they gave her crooked smiles. Judging by their worn trousers and stained shirts, they certainly were no gentlemen. However, she did her best to ignore their forwardness and turned her attention to the stew before her. It was much better than she expected, the meat tender and the broth thick and soothing, and it was difficult for her not to gulp it down after her rations of bread and cheese. Her body ached and her mind was tired. The past days had worn her and the excitement that had kept her going was now exhausted.

  A shadow came across the table and Alice looked up. Her stomach fell into her lap when she saw the two men who had been staring at her now standing before her.

  “‘Ello there,” one of the men said, his blond hair in need of a good wash as did his clothes.

  “Hello,” Alice replied politely, hoping they would be on their way quickly. She did not want to be rude, but she had heard tales of men such as these and how they would try to kiss any woman they wanted.

  “My mate and me wanted to sit with ya,” the man said. “Maybe have a few drinks together.”

  Although Alice thought her heart would burst through her chest it was beating so hard, she forced a polite smile. “No, thank you. I am waiting to meet someone.”

  “Oh, is that right?” the other man said in a harsh tone that made Alice wince. His brown hair was just as dirty, if not worse, than his friend’s and he had an odor about him that made Alice’s stomach churn. “And who’d that be?”

  “Me,” a loud, but low, voice said, causing the three of them to turn.

  Alice’s eyes widened at the burly man with gray hair and arms rippled with muscles that stood beside her. His chest was broad and his head almost touched the beam of the low ceiling.

  “You know her, Isaac?” the blond asked as he took an unsteady step back.

  Isaac crossed his massive arms in front of him. “Of course I know her, you fool,” he snapped. “She’s my niece.” He turned toward Alice and gave her a quick wink. The lines around his eyes were friendly and Alice felt a wave of relief wash over her.

  “Sorry, love,” the men whispered and both men lowered their heads and hurried off.

  The burly man sat down in the chair across from Alice and set his pint glass on the table. “You all right?”

  “I am,” Alice replied. “And thank you. I had hoped they would go away, but they insisted on continuing their conversation.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “I was a bit fearful, to be honest.”

  Isaac glanced in the direction in which the two men had gone. “Don’t you worry none about them two,” he said. “They’re harmless.” Then he turned back to her. “The name’s Isaac, by the way.”

  “Alice,” she replied. She had no reason to expect this man to believe she needed to be called anything but her Christian name, not with how she was dressed.

  “Well, Alice, I haven't seen you around here before. Have you been here long?”

  “Not long,” she replied. “I only arrived a few hours ago.” Although she preferred to not share too much about herself, she knew she would need some sort of connection in the area to help her with finding a place to live and a shop where she could start her millinery. Thus, being friendly was the course of the day. “As a matter of fact, I am in search of a place where I might set up a millinery. Would you know of any such place? If it includes living quarters, that would be even better.”

  “And you have the money to start this venture of yours?” he asked with an arch to his eyebrow.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” she replied. She looked down at her dress. “I realize this dress does not depict a woman of means…” She stopped. What was she doing sharing with a complete stranger her financial situation? She was not that much of a fool. Or perhaps she was. “That is to say, I have the means by which I can get money when I need it.”

  “Don’t worry, love,” he said with a smile. “I’m not going to rob you. As it is, I actually own a shop, and the previous tenant…well, he left town just two days ago.” He sighed. “Point being, would you be interested in having a look at it? It isn’t much, but it might be just what you need.”

  Alice felt her smile grow wide. What a wonder that she would meet a man who had what she needed in such a short time. “I am very interested,” she said with excitement. “Will you be able to take me there now?”

  “Sure,” he replied as he stood and pushed in his chair. Then he walked around and pulled out the chair for her, and although his attempts at gentlemanly behavior were not as perfect as some, his actions were chivalrous nonetheless.

  The possibility of a shop in which she could sell her hats coming from one of the first people she met? If this wasn't fate. Alice did not know what was.

  ***

  The shop was everything Alice could have wanted and more.

  “I’m afraid the last tenant left quite a mess,” Isaac said with a sigh. “Word has it he ran off with a woman half his age and left his old life behind. It’s sad, really. I liked the man. Made great boots.” He lifted a booted foot as an example.

  Though the shop needed a thorough cleaning, it had large windows which looked out onto the docks where she could place samples of her hats for prospective buyers to admire as they walked past. Alice was able to see past the piles of leather scraps and bobbles of thread and see her millinery in the space. And what the shoemaker had left behind would be of use to her. “No, that is quite fine. I am not afraid of hard work. Will I be able to keep whatever he left?”

  Isaac laughed. “I don’t see why not. He owned me two month’s rent, anyway, so let’s just say it’s way of payment for that. And you keeping it will save me the trouble of getting rid of it.” He walked toward a door at the back. “Now, you’re going to love this.”

  He led her through a back room where a worktable sat and shelves lined the wall.

  “This is very nice,” Alice said as she gazed at what would make a wonderful workspace.

  “Oh, that’s not the best of it.” He opened a second door at the back of that room and stepped aside to allow her to enter.

  What she saw made her eyes widen and her jaw drop, for through that door was a small room complete with a bed, table, mirror and even a tiny kitchen. It was nowhere near
her accustomed living, but it pleased her nonetheless. Eventually she would earn enough to find more suitable accommodation; however, for the time being, it was exactly what she needed.

  “Well?” Isaac asked. “What do you think?”

  “When can I move in?” she asked with a large smile.

  Isaac laughed. “Right now if you want to.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a ring that held several keys, and removed two large keys. “One to the front door and one to the back,” he said as he placed them into her hand. “Now, I will need the first month’s rent up front, and you will pay for each month in advance. Will that work?”

  She had her storefront, extra supplies, and a place to live. What more could she ask for?

  Chapter Twelve

  Johnathan stopped his horse and lowered himself to the ground. It was unusually hot, and the sight of the water trickling down the small stream reminded him how thirsty he was. It had been over a week since Alice had run away, and he had yet to find her. Not only had he not found her, he could not find a single soul who had seen her. It was as if she had vanished into thin air.

  He squatted down and refilled his canteen. Miss Huntington had humiliated him, but worse still, she had caused him to lose money. On the last visit to his home only two days earlier he had been informed that Lord Burkley had withdrawn his request and had gone to someone else for his needs. The loss of the man’s business would cost Johnathan hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds, and each day without a wife was costing him more.

  One thing Johnathan had earned in his favor upon his return home was an extension from two months to three to meet the terms of his agreement with Mr. Huntington.

  “Yes, I can see you will need more time, and I am willing to give it to you,” Mr. Hunting had said with a sly smile. “I am not an unreasonable man.”