The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2)

by Mary Kingswood

  “She is still very hot,” Caroline said quietly to Mr Leatham. “Would it give offence, do you think, if I ask Lady Elland if Poppy may rest indoors until she is well enough to go home?”

  “There can be no offence in requesting help for one who is clearly unwell,” he said. “Nor should any hostess deny a guest any succour that is theirs to offer. I have a better idea, however. Let me send for Mama’s carriage, and we may take your sister home directly. She will recover more swiftly and completely in her own home.”

  “Indeed she would! That is a kind and generous offer, if Mrs Leatham will not mind.”

  Mrs Leatham did not mind. “Let me take you home at once,” she said. “Charles can walk back with Mildred whenever it suits her, or I can send the carriage back for her.”

  “No, no,” Mr Leatham said. “I shall take the Miss Milburns home, so that I may carry Miss Poppy into the house. She should not exert herself too soon.”

  “We have a manservant, Mr Leatham,” Caroline said.

  Mr Leatham laughed. “I fear your manservant is past the age of carrying a young lady about, even so light a burden as your sister. I will entertain no argument on this head. Mama, go and enjoy the party and you may tell me all about it later. Look, they are bringing out the cake now.”

  “If you are quite sure, Charles…”

  “Quite sure. Miss Milburn, I shall order the carriage brought round at once. Pray continue to bathe your sister’s face and fan her, do not allow her to attempt to rise, and allay her anxieties as best you can. I shall return in a very few minutes.”

  He gave her no opportunity to protest, but then she had no fault to find with his arrangements. They could have managed without him, naturally, but it was a great comfort to have a man take charge in such a masterful way in a crisis.

  They waited, he returned in a very short time, scooped Poppy into his arms again — “Arms around my neck. Good girl! We will await the carriage in the hall.” — and strode away through the crowds thronging around the pavilion, emerging now with plates of cake in their hands.

  “Cake…” Lin murmured wistfully, as they rushed past.

  Mr Leatham heard her, and stopped, turning around. “Would you prefer to stay, Miss Lin? My step-mother will convey you home later. You need not be in any alarm for your sister, for she is well on the way to a full recovery, and Miss Milburn will take excellent care of her.”

  “Susie will be there, too,” Caroline said. “Our former nurse, Mr Leatham.”

  “That’s true,” Lin said, her face eager. “You won’t mind, will you, Caro? You don’t need me, do you?”

  “With Mr Leatham’s assistance, I can manage very well. Off you go.”

  Mr Leatham raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Do you wish to stay, too, Miss Milburn? I can arrange for a maid to travel in the carriage with your sister, if so.”

  “No, no. Let us go at once. Poppy is not heavy, but your arms must be aching, Mr Leatham.”

  “She is as light as a feather,” he said with a smile, and she believed him, for there was not the least sign of strain in his expression.

  They made their way through the house to the hall, where it was blessedly cool and Poppy seemed distinctly more alert. Then the carriage arrived, and again Mr Leatham lifted his burden effortlessly. Beneath his jacket, muscles bulged but as he conveyed Poppy to the carriage he was not even slightly out of breath. He stowed her safely inside, handed Caroline in and then climbed up beside the coachman for the brief journey home. Again, he would not hear of Poppy walking even so short a distance to the front door, but carried her into the house and then, at Caroline’s direction, up the stairs to her room. Susie emerged from the back of the house as they did so, and at once took in the situation.

  “Aye, this heat is something fierce. There now, my precious, Susie’s here and you’re quite safe. Thank you kindly, sir, but I can look after Miss Poppy from now on. Miss Milburn, there’s lemonade cooling in the larder. Mr Leatham might like a glass after his exertions. Out, now, both of you.”

  Silently, they trooped back down the stairs.

  “Would you like some lemonade?” Caroline said dubiously. “Or we have Madeira if—?”

  “Lemonade would be very refreshing. Thank you.”

  She shooed him into the study, which was cooler, having had the shutters closed all morning, and fetched the lemonade.

  “Mr Leatham, I cannot thank you enough for—”

  He held up his free hand to interrupt her. “Say nothing of it, Miss Milburn. We have agreed that we should give up apologising to each other, so we should not waste words in foolish gratitude, either. What did I do to deserve it? Only what any man would do when seeing a lady in distress.”

  “You are very good, sir. I am very glad that you were on hand to take charge of the situation.”

  “Take charge?” He tugged his earlobe with a grimace. “Was I very managing? That was bad of me.”

  “You were very much the soldier,” she said with a smile. “Lady Elland’s lawn is not quite a battlefield, but I could certainly imagine you leading your troops in a commanding manner. What were you… a colonel?”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “Nothing so grand! A captain only, and one moreover better suited to taking orders than giving them. Still, when there is a crisis, I know what to do, as a soldier.”

  “And as a gentleman also,” she said gravely.

  His face lightened. “Ah. Then I am making progress. Excellent.”

  19: Narfield Lodge

  Little as Caroline wanted to spend two weeks as a guest of Lord and Lady Narfield, she had to admit it was very agreeable to don a new gown and spencer and bonnet, and watch her luggage be strapped onto the back of the Leathams’ carriage.

  There was quite a gathering on the steps of Bursham Cottage to wave them off. Apart from Lin and Poppy, Susie, Martin and Molly, Mr Stratton was there, together with both his parents, their manservant and maid, and John Christopher, who had left off weeding the front drive to watch the excitement. Nothing would do for Mrs Leatham but to descend from the carriage to make the acquaintance of the newcomers. The consequent greetings and polite enquiries as to journeys and homes and children and the state of the road delayed their departure considerably.

  Eventually, however, Mr Leatham handed his step-mother back into the carriage, and then Caroline after her, just as if she were a lady too. He climbed in himself, settled himself beside Mrs Leatham’s maid and the door was closed. With one groom riding beside the coachman, and another as an outrider leading another horse, they made rather an impressive cavalcade as they bounced down the uneven drive of the cottage, with Poppy and John Christopher running alongside, waving energetically.

  “Your sister is feeling better, then?” Mr Leatham said.

  “Thank you, she is. She’s not quite her usual self, and likes to lie abed in the mornings and droops a little in the evenings, but I’m sure it won’t take her long to be fully recovered.”

  “This continuing heat is excessively tiring,” Mrs Leatham said. “I feel it myself, especially in the evenings, when one might hope for a respite. Poor girl! I do feel for her most sincerely. She will be much better once the heat wave has broken. A good thunderstorm would set her to rights, I am sure of it. When Mr Leatham and I were on our honeymoon — we went to Brighton, you know, and a rackety place it was too, even then, and it is worse now, so I am told, although we have never been back. Where was I? Oh yes, Brighton — the weather was just like this, so hot I was sure I would melt away into a puddle. I was all for packing up and returning home at once, for the countryside is always so cool and green is it not? But Mr Leatham did not wish to leave, having paid our accommodation for a fortnight together, and so we stayed, and it became hotter and hotter. But then there was the most tremendous storm of such thunder and lightning — I had never seen anything like it, and nor had Mr Leatham. It went on all night, but the next morning was beautiful, cool and clear and so refreshing after the heat. Now, we shall not need
to stop in Salisbury, I hope, but we shall rest the horses at Alderbury.”

  “Oh, we are going on the Romsey road?” Caroline said.

  “Are we?” Mrs Leatham said vaguely.

  “We are,” Mr Leatham said with a smile. “We turn a little to the south before the town, but Narfield Lodge is only some five miles to the west of your previous home, Miss Milburn.”

  After the grandeur of Valmont, Narfield Lodge was built on a far more modest scale, but it was still imposing in Caroline’s eyes. Classical statues gazed austerely down from the lintel of every window, and the front of the house stretched out ornately arched and colonnaded arms to welcome arriving guests. There was no army of immaculate footmen, however, just two of them, supervised by a butler and housekeeper.

  Four people emerged to greet them. Caroline recognised Mr and Mrs Narfield, whose estate bordered the Leathams’ property, and Lady Narfield, the duke’s sister she had met at Valmont. The fourth person was Lord Narfield, and a fine handsome man he was too, although he blinked at them rather vacantly as the introductions were made, as though he were not quite sure what they were doing there.

  “I have had to drag Henry away from the orchard for the day,” Lady Narfield said, laughing merrily. “Do not ask him about apples, I implore you, for once he begins on that subject so dear to his heart, he never stops. Shall we go inside? You will want to rest after your journey. Travel is so tiring in the summer, is it not?”

  “Very true, my dear,” said her husband, his eyes twinkling. “Everyone should travel in the winter, when the roads are impassable. That would be a much better arrangement.”

  “Foolish man!” his wife said affectionately, and the two went back into the house arm in arm, laughing together. Caroline was struck with sudden grief for her own dear parents, always so fond of each other. If only she could find a man just as devoted to her, and whom she loved in equal degree, then perhaps she could consider marriage. But where was such perfection to be found? Not in any of the men she had known, that much was certain. Lady Narfield undertook to show Mrs Leatham and Charles to their quarters, while Mrs Narfield led Caroline in a different direction.

  “You will not mind sharing, will you, my dear?” she said, as she showed her into a very pretty room with the walls entirely papered with blue flowers, and hangings of blue and gold stripes. “We have put the eldest Miss Redpath in with you, since she is the nearest in age. Ah, here is Polly. She will help you unpack and change. We are all in the saloon, so come down whenever you are ready, dear.”

  Her box arrived almost at once, and Caroline was on her knees beginning to unpack before she’d thought twice. Polly giggled, and Caroline realised her mistake. “I’m probably supposed to let you do all this, aren’t I?” she said ruefully.

  “It’s usual, miss.”

  “Well, it will go quicker with two of us, won’t it?”

  Polly nodded, and for a while they worked in harmony. But before long, the door was thrown open to reveal Mrs Narfield again, accompanied by a young lady dressed in the first stare of fashion, and a drably-attired woman who could only be a lady’s maid.

  “Here we are now, and is this not cosy? Jane, this is Miss Milburn. Miss Milburn, Miss Redpath.”

  Caroline scrambled to her feet, and dropped into an awkward curtsy. Miss Redpath looked her up and down assessingly, before giving the minutest nod of her head in acknowledgement. Two footmen staggered in with her box, and then a second box, and yet a third. Miss Redpath unlocked them before carelessly tossing aside her spencer, gloves and bonnet, and sitting down on the dressing table stool to make delicate adjustments to her hair.

  For a while, nothing was said, as the two maids laboured, Miss Redpath titivated and Caroline stood uncertainly to one side, wanting to help Polly but feeling instinctively that she should not.

  After a while, Miss Redpath swivelled round on the stool to gaze at Caroline thoughtfully. “I hope there are plenty of entertainments planned for us. A ball, perhaps. Have you heard what is arranged?”

  “No, I’ve no idea.”

  “I had no notion of leaving Cherleigh at all this summer, but Mama insisted, so here I am. She is planning a match for me with one of the Narfield boys, but I have no inclination for it myself. I had far sooner wait until the spring, and the season. There is a certain viscount who will be happy to see me again, and still unwed. Have you been presented, Miss Milburn?”

  “Presented?”

  “At court. I surmise that you have not. Is your father’s estate near here?”

  “My father never had an estate,” she said. And then, because there was no point in hiding the facts, she went on, “My father was a linen draper in Romsey.”

  Miss Redpath gaped at her, almost as if she’d said he was a fishmonger. Rising, she said imperiously, “Leave that Tomkins,” and swept out of the room. The maid jumped to her feet, bobbed a quick curtsy to Caroline, then scuttled after her mistress.

  Ten minutes later, she crept back in and began to repack all her mistress’s clothes into the boxes. Two footmen came and carried them away.

  Twenty minutes after that, when Polly had unpacked Caroline’s modest wardrobe, offered to help her change and been rejected and gone away, a tap at the door revealed a homely face covered in freckles.

  “Miss Milburn? I am sent to share your room if you have no objection.”

  “I have not the least objection in the world to sharing my room with any lady,” Caroline said. “It seems, however, as if some ladies object to sharing with me.”

  The homely face nodded solemnly. “Miss Redpath is excessively particular in her notions, and the least little thing upsets her. Allow me to introduce myself… Louisa Law, governess to all five of the Miss Redpaths, for my sins.”

  “Caroline Milburn, lacemaker. Miss Redpath was disconcerted by the discovery that my father’s estate consisted of a linen draper’s shop in Romsey.”

  “Oh dear! Yes, that would do it. The girls are dreadfully stuck up, and nothing I do has any effect, I regret to say.”

  “Just as well I didn’t tell her that my mother was the illegitimate child of a gamekeeper’s daughter.”

  Miss Law laughed out loud. “Oh, splendid! Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Milburn. This visit is going to be more enjoyable than I had anticipated.”

  ~~~~~

  The saloon was not crowded, for it was far too large to be filled by only the dozen or so who were gathered there, but it was very noisy. Little clusters of women chattered away together so volubly, that Caroline instinctively stopped on the threshold, trying not to wince.

  “Miss Milburn and Miss Law, my lady,” declaimed the butler, in tones loud enough to override the chatter. The room fell into silence, as a dozen pairs of eyes turned towards the door. Beside her, Miss Law seemed to shrink, and scuttled away into a corner like a mouse caught in the kitchen. Caroline felt that way, too. Just as at Valmont, she wondered what she was doing there. A lacemaker had no business mingling with these great people! But then she recalled that Lady Narfield had invited her personally, so how could it possibly be wrong? She straightened her back, and gazed back fearlessly at the assembled ladies.

  But not all were ladies. Mr Charles Leatham was there, and there was one other man, and she recognised him. Of all the people in the world to be staying at Narfield Lodge! But she was glad she had not tried to hide her origins from Miss Redpath, for here was one who could reveal her secret if he chose. It was none other than the nameless man who had patronised Papa’s shop, and epitomised the gentleman in her mind.

  Lady Narfield rose and crossed the room. “Ah! Miss Milburn, do come and let me make everyone known to you. You know my sisters, Lady Henrietta Redpath and Lady Alice Wynne, of course, and here are their daughters…” There was a long list of names, and much curtsying and expressions of polite pleasure in the acquaintance, but Caroline could see from their faces that Miss Redpath had told her sisters and cousins of Caroline’s lowly origins. She would make no friends
there.

  Then Lady Narfield led her to the gentleman she knew. He was older than she remembered, being above fifty now, she guessed, since his hair was quite white. But his face was unlined, and he smiled as he was introduced to her as Mr Wynne, husband to Lady Alice.

  “Miss Milburn and I have met before,” he said, making her a respectful bow. “I daresay you do not remember me, but I was well acquainted with your father for many years. I was very sorry indeed to hear of his death. How is your mother now?”

  “She died two years ago, sir.”

  “Then you have suffered a double blow, and are sincerely to be pitied. To be orphaned at such a young age is a great tragedy, for your two sisters must be very young still, I fancy.”

  “Poppy is just sixteen, and Lin is almost twenty and shortly to be married.”

  “Now that is happier news! And do you still live in Romsey?”

  They talked for some time, almost as old friends, and she found herself telling him all about their unexpected inheritance, and how contented her sisters were to be living in the country, Lin with her garden and Poppy with her chickens and goats.

  “And you, Miss Milburn? Has country living brought contentment to you, too?”

  “It’s relieved me of many of my concerns,” she said. “Money, of course, but also it’s a comfort to know that Lin and Poppy are both safe and usefully employed in the garden. I don’t have to worry about what they’ll get up to next. But of course there are new concerns.” Her eyes roved over the room as she spoke, at the unnerving collection of the fashionable and the wealthy.

  “There is always something to worry over, if one is a natural worrier,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You will grow accustomed, Miss Milburn. Your father would be delighted to know of your good fortune and that your future is secure.”

  “Indeed he would,” Caroline said, absurdly pleased at such simple but kindly words. It made her glad to feel she had a friend in such company as she now found herself, and he never once mentioned that his acquaintanceship with her father had arisen through the circumstance of having bought handkerchiefs and stockings from him. She saw no reason to modify her previous opinion of him as exemplifying every quality of the gentleman, and when another arrival led to an adjustment in the company, she took the opportunity to say as much to Mr Leatham.