Circle of Pearls

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Circle of Pearls Page 46

by Rosalind Laker


  Anne was overjoyed to hear of Julia’s betrothment. She knew Adam had given her the needlework box that she had used temporarily, and he was associated in her mind with kindness and consideration. At the moment she could not recall his face, but she did not admit to it, aware from the glances she sometimes received that she was not remembering things as other people did.

  ‘You’re going to be so happy, Julia!’ she exclaimed. ‘My life began when I married your father and I pray it will be the same for you.’ Then she did remember an echo from the past. ‘But I always thought it would be Christopher whom you would wed.’

  ‘Don’t speak of that,’ Julia implored quickly. ‘That was never to be.’ Her mother’s innocently spoken words had touched a raw nerve and almost taken her breath away.

  The next morning she went early to Briar House, taking with her a pile of clean aprons, which the workers were to don on arrival and leave behind when they left. She recruited a young woman, unable to sew or weave, to keep the workroom floor washed, swept and clean. A routine was organized for taking fresh working materials from the box that did not disarrange any of the contents. To ease conditions for her workers she gave them access to the kitchen where they ate the noon-pieces they brought with them. Julia intended that when winter came there should be a bowl of hot soup for each. No less important was that they should have plenty of light at all times and she made sure that candle-lamps were lit even when the day was only moderately overcast, for the window panes at Briar House were less clear than those at Sotherleigh and diffused all but the brightest sun-rays.

  On the whole there were almost no disagreements among the women. They were accustomed to helping one another in time of trouble and not so much in falling out. Any village was a tight-knit, almost isolated community and theirs was no exception. Some of the women could count on one hand the number of times they had been as far as Chichester and all thought themselves fortunate they did not live packed into narrow streets. More or less content with their lot already, they were also of a patient nature, for embroidery demanded that quality before all else. The result was a good-natured, industrious work force with a pride in the lovely patterned ribbons that were produced at Briar House.

  Considering how difficult an interchange between villages could be, news spread on an invisible grapevine. It was not long before Julia’s ribbon-making workshop was being talked about far afield. As a result women began to make considerable journeys on foot, unless they were lucky enough to own a donkey or managed to get a lift at least part of the way on a farm cart or a drover’s wagon They arrived at Briar House often tired and dusty or huddled and rain-soaked, and asked to see the lady of Sotherleigh.

  Julia received them all. Some brought her examples of their embroidery and smocking, having no notion of the delicacy of stitchery that she needed. But, as with her local embroiderers, Julia was able to define the true needlewomen among them, all of whom declared themselves willing to make their individual journeys to collect materials and deliver the finished work. She was not going to tie any one of them to the hardships that would be involved, but she wrote down the names and villages of those she would like to take into her employ, gave them samples to copy and said she would call to collect the finished results herself.

  It did not take her long to organize this new round of workers. She hired a trained clerk named John Mather, who had been highly recommended to her as a worthy young man by Mr and Mrs Hannington. With him riding beside her she set out a week later to visit each woman on her list, setting out her conditions if the samples showed promise, insisting on absolute cleanliness and leaving supplies. It became Mr Mather’s duty to make a continual round throughout a wide area, collecting work, making payment and leaving fresh materials. He also made sure that the women worked in clean conditions and since they never knew exactly when he would appear there were few cases of slacking, and those he did find were eventually weeded out. Yet other women came forward to fill those gaps and yards of lovely Pallister ribbons bearing Anne’s designs and in all widths and colours kept the shelves of the store-cupboards and chests comfortably full. It was a bonus that Mr Mather had a sensible and steady sister who kept house for him, and she applied for the post of organizer at Briar House. Julia took her on trial and was soon satisfied. Miss Mather knew how to organize and take charge, proving herself a good needlewoman as well.

  In the process of these arrangements, Julia went to London with a load of ribbons to fill the orders she had gathered just prior to Restoration Day, Sarah going with her. She had expected London to have settled down again, but it was as if people had found it impossible to shake off their initial jubilation and a merry atmosphere still prevailed with banners fluttering in the streets, garlands of greenery renewed and musicians gathered at street corners to fill the air with lively melodies to which younger folk would sometimes join hands and dance. She was told by Mrs Needham, wife of the landlord of the Heathcock, that whenever the King rode by, Londoners left whatever they were doing to rush out into the street and cheer him.

  ‘It’s as if London has become a gigantic fete from morning till night,’ the woman exclaimed jovially, ‘and there’s no sign of it ending yet.’

  Julia had asked for the same bedchamber at the hostelry as she had had before. She liked the view of the Strand and also the bedchamber had a communicating door at the rear into an adjoining room for Sarah, which Mary had previously occupied. The Needhams had seven sons, who were employed in various duties at the hostelry and in its stables. She hired two, whose ages were fourteen and fifteen, to carry her boxes of ribbons when she made her deliveries, but they had to wear a livery of her choice.

  She had them rigged out in cream velvet jackets and breeches braided at the seams and Cavalier hats with tossing crimson plumes. Mary had made her a new gown of striped cream and crimson silk taken from the storage chest of rich fabrics, and she caused heads to turn as she set out in her spectacular attire and her own fine plumage. Sarah walked in front as her chaperone and she followed a few paces behind with the two boys in her wake, bows of crimson ribbon adorning the velvet-covered boxes that they carried. When a delivery meant riding by coach she always made sure that enough distance was left for her to be seen approaching on foot whatever shop happened to be her destination. Her aim was to make London aware of Pallister ribbons and she believed this would be a way of drawing attention to them. Sooner or later people would start asking who she was and what it could be that was so grandly borne along in such fanciful containers.

  That evening Adam was coming to the Heathcock to take her out to supper. When getting ready she stamped her foot impatiently at Sarah’s expectation to accompany her as chaperone.

  ‘No! I’m going to marry this man and so surely I can be on my own with him for a little while. It’s different by day when I need you to accompany me to the shops and in the streets, but Adam and I will have much to talk about and say to each other that would be stilted in a third person’s company.’

  Sarah accepted defeat huffily. Julia thought that Mary would have been far more difficult to shake off, simply because she was a friend and not a servant, but there was little likelihood Mary would ever leave Patience to come to London again. Before Julia left the room she coaxed a smile out of Sarah by promising not to be late. Then, feeling she was on the wings of freedom, she hastened down the stairs to the hallway to await Adam.

  He was a few minutes late when he came hurrying in and swept off his plumed hat to her. He explained that he had been at the House of Commons for most of the day and had left to meet her only at the hour previously arranged by letter. With the House of Lords restored again, Westminster had become a hive of old acquaintances greeting one another after long absences and he had been further delayed by a garrulous old earl who had known his grandfather.

  ‘At least you’re here now.’ She felt a little strange meeting him for the first time as her accepted betrothed.

  As the evening was balmy they went by ferry-boat
along the river to the re-opened Spring Pleasure Gardens at Vauxhall. To the accompaniment of music they ate at a table for two on a terrace under branches hung with coloured candle-lamps. Pavilions of entertainment shone brightly amidst similarly illuminated trees. People from all walks of life, richly adorned or simply clad, strolled the paths between the flowerbeds, taking in all there was to see.

  ‘I have heard from Michael,’ she said, anxiety in her expression. ‘He wrote that he is still not well enough to travel even if he could leave Sophie during the last few months of her pregnancy, but he insists he will be at Sotherleigh for our marriage in September, by which time the baby will be a month old. It’s taking far longer than I expected for him to recover. Did you think it would take all this time when you saw him?’

  ‘He did look very thin and white, but was in good spirits at seeing someone with news of you and Sotherleigh. I’ve a feeling he’ll never ail again once he is away from France. At present he’s a homesick Englishman.’

  ‘But that’s just it. He says he will be returning to Paris afterwards as Sophie can’t travel with a small baby and he must be with her.’

  Adam, twirling his wine glass by its stem, raised an eyebrow. ‘Can’t or won’t?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Am I allowed to give you a frank opinion of your brother’s wife, who will soon be my French sister-in-law too?’ he asked. When she nodded, he spoke thoughtfully as if recalling every detail about Sophie that had impressed him at the time. ‘I had barely had time to introduce myself to Michael and explain who I was — we had not met for many years and I thought recognition was unlikely — when Sophie came hurrying into the room. My impression was that she wished to miss nothing that I might say to him, because after we had exchanged courtesies she sat down on a chair between us, her head going to one and then the other of us like a spectator at a tennis match. I gathered that her English is not particularly good and she needed to watch as well as listen in order to catch all that was said.’

  ‘Why should that be unusual?’

  ‘Only in that Michael had known from my first words to him that I had come on a matter important to me and suggested to her that she should go and see about some refreshment for me. Anyone else would then have retired tactfully, but she said it was all arranged and actually moved to stand by his chair to hold his hand and show that she intended to stay.’

  ‘You mean she has some power over him?’

  ‘It was that of a nurse over a helpless patient.’

  ‘You didn’t like her. I can tell.’

  ‘She is a handsome, fascinating woman and was most solicitous in seeing that his cushions were comfortable, keeping his rug warmly over his knees and smiling into his face a dozen times or more. He praised her to me for her care, whereupon she smiled with pleasure and looked triumphantly at me as if I had come to drive a wedge between them and failed.’

  ‘Could she be as possessive about him as Makepeace was over my mother, do you think?’

  He meditated before he replied. ‘Only to suit some purpose of her own.’

  ‘She doesn’t want him to come home?’

  ‘I think that in spite of being distressed over his illness, it had its consolation for her since it saved the upheaval of her having to leave France with him. I met her father afterwards at dinner, an astute, sharp-eyed widower who spoke of Michael both as a beloved son-in-law and the king-pin of the business. Monsieur Brissard himself is getting older and would like to retire before long. I would say that neither father nor daughter wants Michael to come back to England. They would favour his being the absent owner of Sotherleigh, especially if the coming baby should be a son to follow him into the silk trade.’

  ‘Poor Michael! He must be torn between loyalties. I know how much he respects his father-in-law, who had the foresight to see his potential and promote him in the business before there was any question of a marriage with Sophie. I shall be thankful to see him again and hear what he has to say. Sotherleigh needs him now. It shouldn’t have to wait until he comes home as an old man to live there.’

  ‘If he should remain in France would you like us to make Sotherleigh our country seat after we’re wed?’

  She looked at him incredulously. ‘You would close Warrender Hall?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. I would offer it to my sister Meg and her children, who are now near Cambridge. She has been unhappily married there for some years and now her elderly husband is in his last days. Until she was forced into marriage by my parents she had a contented childhood at the Hall, whereas I was away at school most of the time and have fewer memories to tie me to it.’

  ‘What about Pegasus?’

  His eyes smiled at her mention of the white pony. ‘The ownership of that little steed constituted one of my best memories — and seeing you in Chichester that day.’

  She looked amused. ‘Don’t tell me that. When your father said that Warrenders had no truck with Royalists you looked at me with such hostility that I can remember it vividly now.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ he contradicted, equally amused. ‘I was angry that your family had made a Royalist of you and not with you personally. Yet I think in a way it was more than that. I was furious with the whole world for putting barriers between the pretty Pallister girl and me.’

  ‘At least there are no political differences to divide us now.’ He reached across the table and closed his right hand over hers. ‘I look forward to our marriage when everything that has ever come between us will be gone.’

  It was too soon yet for her not to think instantly of Christopher in any mention of the future, but she hoped with time to overcome that clawing at her heart, which she had discovered could come without warning at any time. She chose not to dwell on what Adam had said and took up the subject of former divisions between others. ‘At our wedding breakfast there will be an equal number of guests from the old side of your fence as there will be from my Royalist side. I think we should seat them alternately and then anything lingering from the past will be amended and forgotten in the good wine and general merriment.’

  If he had noticed that she had shied away slightly from the hope he had expressed, he showed no sign and grinned at her suggestion. ‘Let’s see that that is done.’

  She then told him more of the arrangements being made for the wedding ceremony, which was to take place in Chichester Cathedral since her family and his had been generous benefactors in times past and he had a bishop among his ancestors whose tomb was there. The latest Pallister gift had been the beautiful chalice veil that Anne had embroidered and which had been gratefully accepted.

  When they had finished supper they joined the throngs of people enjoying themselves. They watched a play in one grove and a display by tumblers in another. Coming to a pavilion where country dancing was in full swing, he swept her into it. They kicked up their heels and whirled and twirled until with linked arms they escaped laughing and breathless into the night air again. He guided her at once to a secluded rose bower to sit on a bench there. When they had rested awhile and recovered their breath, talking together, he took her left hand into his. Then from his pocket he drew out a sapphire ring set ornamentally in gold and slid it on to her third finger.

  ‘Now we are truly betrothed, Julia.’

  Slowly she drew her hand from his to bring it close to her as she looked down at the ring. The beautiful jewel had such depths of blue that it was like looking for ever into the limitless skies. It struck her forcibly that she had given no thought to having a betrothal ring, which was such a highlight to all the girls she had ever known who were to marry. For them it had been a romantic token while for her it was simply a seal on a promise given that would be kept.

  ‘I have never seen a lovelier ring,’ she said with perfect truth.

  ‘It can’t compare with your eyes.’

  She was moved by his words. Whatever happened she would be good to this man who cared for her. He was even prepared to relinquish his home since
he knew she had an aversion to crossing the threshold of the house once owned by the man who had killed her father. Never should he know that someone else blocked the way to her feeling for him as fully as he would wish. Katherine had warned her that she would ruin her life if she yearned after a man she could never have, but she knew now there was such a thing as compromise. Had she not always been practical and clear-thinking in most matters? Therefore she accepted her loss, but would not, and could not, discard a bond that had always been part of it. Pallister women understood their responsibilities. Katherine had never disclosed to anyone her affair with Harry. Anne had kept from Makepeace her unswerving devotion to Robert. Why should she herself not follow that precedent? If a true and secret love was hidden away within the recesses of her heart, no hurt was caused to anyone. Adam should not be stinted. He should have all else that she had to give.

  He was gathering her into his arms and she swayed against him where they sat, her lips parting to receive his kiss.

  *

  She made several trips to London in the ensuing weeks. There were those who had begun to look out for her with her box-carrying retinue. Sometimes she was in crimson from head to foot, at others in cream or her striped gown and she kept to these variations for the effect. On her second visit she had added the Needhams’ six-year-old son to her procession. In cream and gold Oriental silk with a plumed turban, he walked in front of her with a posy from which floated streamers in the distinctive colours that denoted the Pallister ribbons.

  It was on her third visit that she engaged one more person. She had noticed several times a mischievous little girl with a mop of red curls dancing barefoot in the courtyard for whatever pennies were thrown to her. Julia, arriving at the hostelry from Sussex one afternoon, saw the child again. Sending Sarah upstairs to unpack, she beckoned the sprite-like dancer over to her.

  ‘Come here. I want to speak to you.’

  The child skipped across to her. ‘Yes, madam.’

 

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