The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2)

by Mary Kingswood

  “You would do well to observe his manner,” she said. “Then you may tell me, if you will, if he is not the complete gentleman, and someone to inspire your enterprise.”

  He smiled, and murmured, “‘Whenever you go into good company, that is the company of people of fashion, observe carefully their behaviour, their address and their manners; imitate them as far as in your power.’”

  She laughed. “You are in a fair way to knowing that book by heart.”

  There was another round of introductions for Caroline to endure before dinner, as the sporting gentlemen were now returned from the field and the remaining guests had arrived, cousins to Lord Narfield. By the time Caroline entered the saloon, wearing her second best evening gown for the occasion, it was clear that everyone in the house was now aware of her humble heritage. Judging by the silence that fell as she entered, and the way so many of the occupants of the room avoided her gaze, she guessed that they had been that very moment discussing her.

  Nevertheless, she was greeted cordially and given a prime seat near to Lady Narfield and one of her sisters, and gently drawn into their conversation. They were talking about the current fashion for trains, and the inconvenience of dancing with one.

  “All that pinning and fussing about, and Lucilla is constantly tripping over hers,” Lady Alice said. “Annabelle manages better, although she is the younger. What do you say, Miss Milburn? Do you not find this vogue for evening trains a great trial when dancing?”

  “I don’t know, my lady. I’ve never danced with one.”

  “Oh.” She fidgeted uncomfortably with her fan, but then said smoothly to her sister, “I do hope you will have some dancing while we are here, Georgie. The young ones are wild for it, and we can certainly get up six or eight couples. Do you not think it an excellent scheme, Miss Milburn? You want to dance, I am sure.”

  “It might be amusing, my lady,” Caroline said, without enthusiasm. There was little she relished less than the prospect of displaying her rustic dancing skills in front of this company.

  “There, you see, Georgie? Miss Milburn would find it amusing to dance. You cannot refuse, I am sure, and Henry is so amiable he will make no objection. You may set up the card tables in the music room, you know, if the gentlemen insist on playing, and roll up the carpet in here. Come now, do let us have a little dancing.”

  “I can do better than that, Alice. We are to have a ball on Thursday week — what do you say to that?”

  Lady Alice clapped her hands with glee. “What a good sister you are!”

  A ball. Caroline sighed inwardly. Perhaps she could contrive to have the headache that night.

  They sat down four and twenty to dinner, at so fashionably late an hour that Caroline’s stomach was grumbling audibly, and she was very glad to find that the soup was distributed promptly. There was no delay in carving the joints, either, so her plate was soon filled with tasty morsels. She was seated between two gentlemen she had met only half an hour before, but one of them said nothing to her that didn’t relate to the meal, and the other exhausted his conversational skills enquiring about her family and where she lived. Caroline didn’t mind. She could attend to her plate, try to work out what the elaborate concoctions were that she was eating and also listen to the conversations of others as she pleased. Once or twice she caught the eye of Miss Law, not far away on the opposite side of the table, and discovered she was likewise neglected by her dinner companions. They exchanged sympathetic glances, the two lowliest and least regarded guests.

  When the ladies withdrew, they went into the music room where most of the company clustered around a pianoforte and harp, with much lively discussion of pieces to perform, and who might be prevailed upon for a duet or to perform an Italian air. Caroline discovered Miss Law in a corner of the room with a piece of embroidery.

  “I wish I’d thought to bring some work down with me,” she said mournfully, sitting down beside the governess. “I can’t bear to be idle.”

  “Nor I,” Miss Law said. “Why not go and fetch your needlework, so that we may be cosy together in our quiet corner?”

  It took no more than two minutes to run upstairs and fetch down her bag. Miss Law gasped when she drew out her lacemaking pillow and unpinned the bobbins.

  “Oh, lace! How beautiful a piece! Did you make those frills on your sleeves? Oh, and your fan… may I? How clever you are!”

  With such praise, all reserve between them was at an end, and long before the gentlemen joined them, the two women were firm friends. Caroline now had no apprehensions about enduring the long evenings. She need not fear to be drawn into card games for money she could not afford to lose, and she would be overlooked whenever there was music or dancing or any danger of public display.

  She was not quite hidden from sight, however, so when the card tables were being made up, Lady Narfield called out, “Miss Milburn! Miss Law! Should you care to play?”

  “Miss Law cannot play,” Lady Henrietta Redpath said. “She must be free to attend to the girls, if they should need anything.”

  “As you wish,” Lady Narfield said, “but Miss Milburn will oblige me, I am sure. It is only Speculation, you know, a very easy game, and I am sure Jane will explain the rules to you.”

  “Oh no, Aunt Georgie,” Jane said at once, “for our table is quite made up and there is no room for anyone else. Miss Milburn would not fit in here, not in the least.”

  Lady Narfield looked disconcerted, and Lady Henrietta frowned at her daughter. “Nonsense, Jane! Another chair might be brought forward without the least inconvenience to anybody, and Speculation is all the better for more players.”

  “Thank you, my lady, but I have no intention of playing,” Caroline said hastily.

  “Oh, but I insist,” Lady Henrietta said. “Jane is being foolish. You must play, Miss Milburn. Come now, do join the Speculation table. I shall be so disappointed if you do not. Take no notice of Jane! She is a thoughtless girl, but she means no harm, you know.”

  And although Caroline steadily refused, Lady Henrietta continued to lament it for quite twenty minutes, and to revive the subject periodically whenever a pause in the play permitted.

  Caroline could not decide which was the more embarrassing, the daughter’s rudeness or the mother’s ill-conceived attempts to ameliorate it. She bent her head to her bobbins and wished she could disappear.

  20: Observation

  Caroline and Miss Law withdrew to their bedroom at the earliest opportunity, took turns behind the screen to change into nightgowns, put curling papers in each other’s hair and then read aloud from the Bible for half an hour. They then knelt side by side at the bed and silently prayed. Caroline wondered what Miss Law prayed for. A new position, perhaps, with more agreeable charges. Or did she hope for a man to whisk her away from her life of servitude? Caroline’s own prayers were filled with gratitude for her present state of comfort, the wish for happiness and prosperity for Lin and Mr Stratton, and the hope that the present occupants of Bursham Cottage may remain untroubled in her absence. She didn’t mention any troubles explicitly, for surely the Good Lord knew all about the mysterious thefts, the boxes of money in the garden and the oddity of the Dowager Lady Elland’s net purses, but she prayed very sincerely for the well-being of her sisters and the servants.

  Miss Law went to check on the Miss Redpaths, returning almost at once with a gleeful grin. “Her ladyship is ringing a peal over Jane for her behaviour to you this evening,” she said jubilantly. “I suspect you will be the target of Jane’s contrition tomorrow. Prepare to be included in every activity as her bosom-bow.”

  Caroline pulled a face. “I wish all of them would just leave me alone. I don’t mind being ignored. I don’t feel I have any business in this company anyway.”

  “You have been invited, like every one else. Why should you be insulted and ignored? But if it truly makes you uncomfortable, you may be sure that Jane’s attentions will last only as long as her mother’s, and only then when Lady Henriet
ta is there to observe her. They will both forget about you soon enough, no doubt.” She yawned widely. “Goodness, I am tired! I was up before dawn to finish packing the girls’ boxes, and that bed looks so inviting, especially when compared with the dreadful hard bed in the attics which I was assigned originally. Shall I take the side by the wall?”

  Without waiting for a response, she climbed in and fell asleep almost at once. Caroline lay awake for some time, torn between worrying about Lin and Poppy, and wondering how she was to survive two whole weeks of this misery. Once again, she wished she had listened to her instincts, and not allowed herself to be persuaded to move outside her own sphere. But she had promised Mr Leatham that she would help him in his quest to become a gentleman, and, since he had won the wager between them, it was a debt of honour.

  So she told herself sternly that worrying never made anything better, and closed her eyes in a determined effort to sleep.

  ~~~~~

  Charles saw at once that Miss Milburn was right — Mr Wynne was the consummate gentleman. His dress, his deportment and mannerisms, his voice and his air of good breeding all defined him as a man who could mingle in the highest society in the land, would always command respect and yet was unobtrusive. He never put himself forward, yet he was deferred to. He never raised his voice, but others turned to listen to him. His opinions were considered and thoughtful, and he had no qualms about disagreeing with the majority view while firmly maintaining his own. By the time the gentlemen left the dining room, Charles knew that he had found the model upon which to base his own behaviour.

  It was one thing to know whom he wished to emulate. It was quite another to perform the imitation. Even though he could see and observe the little distinctions that were so happily combined in Mr Wynne, he had no idea how to include them in his own behaviour. Accordingly, he set himself merely to observe. When an opportunity arose, he would share his observations with Miss Milburn and she might advise him how to proceed. His faith in her was so great at this point that he had no doubt of her ability to do so.

  Accordingly, the first evening he had contrived to play whist at Mr Wynne’s table, although he had been obliged to watch helplessly as Miss Redpath insulted Miss Milburn. She had disappeared before his card table disbanded, so he had no opportunity to speak to her that evening, but he fumed about it for hours, and woke the next morning still fuming.

  He was sharing his room with an amiable young man who was a friend of one of the Narfield brothers. “J-j-just invited t-t-to m-m-make up the n-n-numbers,” he said cheerfully to Charles. “Do you ride, L-l-leatham?”

  Charles did, and had his horse in the stables to prove it. In no time, the two had made a firm arrangement to ride out every morning before breakfast. This proved such an agreeable exercise that they were late in arriving in the dining room and most of the gentlemen had already left. Charles felt a little self-conscious walking into a room almost entirely composed of ladies, but he saw his step-mother and Miss Milburn amongst them, and was about to join them when he noticed the disagreeable Miss Redpath was sitting next to them, and at once changed his plan. At least whatever antipathy had inspired last night’s insult had dissolved into amity. He spotted Mr Wynne at the other end of the table, so that was where he settled when he had filled his plate from the sideboard.

  “Do you have any plans for the day, Mr Leatham?” Wynne enquired politely.

  “Oh… I have no idea. I shall just fall in with everyone else, I expect.”

  “Most of the young men are going out shooting. There are some snipe worth having in one of the coveys, apparently.”

  “Snipe!” Charles liked a day in the field as well as anyone, but he could not summon much enthusiasm for snipe. He reminded himself he was not there to enjoy himself, but to practise being a gentleman and to find himself a bride. He must not lose sight of his object. With this in mind, he said, “What are the ladies planning to do today, I wonder?”

  “An outing to Southampton, I understand. A number of shops are to be visited.”

  Charles pulled a face.

  Mr Wynne smiled gently. “Indeed, male company would be very much in the way. There is a tolerable library here, if you are minded to read.”

  “I have a book to read already.”

  “Then perhaps a walk in the gardens? It is a fine day, and there is a fair prospect of the New Forest from the ruined temple. For myself, Lord Narfield is to show me his orchard.”

  “You have an interest in apples, then, Mr Wynne?”

  “Not especially, but Lord Narfield does, and it is a pleasure to him to have a willing listener. I always spend a day with him whenever I stay here.”

  This sounded excessively boring, but since the ladies were out of reach for the day, he might as well pursue his other object, and follow Mr Wynne about.

  “Would he mind if I were to come along too?” Charles said.

  “My dear sir, he would be delighted! Quite delighted!”

  Entirely to Charles’ surprise, he found the day diverting and the subject fascinating. Lord Narfield was slightly vague about who he was — “Do give my regards to your dear mother. I haven’t seen her since we were in Bath last year.” — but his knowledge of and enthusiasm for his subject was unbounded. Never had Charles suspected that the grafting of apple trees could be so interesting. He ended the day full of ideas for their own modest orchard at Starlingford, and a promise from Lord Narfield to answer any question that might arise.

  Leaving his lordship still busy with his head gardener, Charles and Mr Wynne walked back towards the house, where an array of parasols and fluttering gowns on the terrace suggested that the ladies had returned from their expedition.

  “Shall we go and make ourselves agreeable to the fairer sex?” Mr Wynne said, as they began the long walk across the lawn.

  “It is a noble enterprise, but I fear I shall always fall short,” Charles said gloomily. “The ability to be agreeable to a lady is not in my nature.”

  “It is a skill like any other,” Wynne said affably. “Just as you have learnt to ride and to shoot and to play whist or backgammon, so you may also learn to be good company. It is merely another part of the gentleman’s repertoire.”

  “That is the trouble, I do not know what a gentleman is,” Charles said. “All I know is how to be a soldier. I am trying to learn, however. I have a book on the subject, and Miss Milburn is helping me.” Then, in a rush of openness, he said, “She told me to observe you, Mr Wynne. In her opinion, you are the finest example she has ever seen of a true gentleman.”

  “I am flattered, for I make no claim to such extraordinariness. I follow only the precepts of ordinary politeness. It surprises me to discover that such straightforward and commonplace manners require an entire book to describe them.”

  “Ordinary politeness is perhaps within my grasp,” Charles said with a frown, although honesty compelled him to add, “Most of the time, at least. My temper is not what it might be, and there I might fairly be censured, I know. But on common occasions, when I am not provoked, I trust I may be polite. But surely there is more to it? A gentleman must be more than merely polite, would you not say? His air, his appearance, his opinions… every aspect must be superior, and that is what I cannot grasp. Even when I feel I understand the principles espoused in the book, it is difficult to put them into practice. With a young lady, for example, I have not the least notion what to say, so I say nothing. How can I speak when I feel we have nothing in common? With a man, I may attempt a conversation, but a lady terrifies me, and yet I must find myself a wife, and soon.”

  Mr Wynne laughed. “Now that I understand. Our society does its utmost to raise each sex apart from the other, and then, by some miracle, the two are supposed to get along well enough in adulthood to fall in love and marry and spend their lives together. It is altogether too optimistic. I was approaching forty before I felt brave enough to approach the idea of matrimony, so I sympathise with your position, Mr Leatham. No book will teach you the ski
ll of courtship, for every man must learn it afresh when he begins the quest for a wife, and the strategy will depend entirely on the lady. Some like to be complimented and flattered, some want ardour, some prefer a pragmatic approach…”

  “Then what am I to do?” Charles cried. “The business is hopeless!”

  “Not at all, not at all. My father gave me two pieces of advice when he introduced me into society, Mr Leatham, and I willingly offer them to you now, in the hope that they may be useful to you. Firstly, behave always in ways which are calculated to give pleasure rather than offence to the other party, without consideration of one’s own wishes, just as we did today in allowing Lord Narfield to indulge his hobby. So when we reach the ladies, as we very soon shall, my first greeting will be to my hostess, if she is present, or failing that the highest ranked lady. After that, any lady who might be offended if not noticed, and then I shall look about for anyone who is otherwise unattended and might be glad of company.”

  “And the second piece of advice your father gave you?” Charles said urgently, for they were almost upon the ladies.

  “To be myself at all times, not pretending to be either more or less than I am. We may speak more of this later, if you wish, but for now, observe what I do.”

  So saying, he moved smoothly towards Lady Narfield, bowed over her hand and began enquiring into the success of her day with every appearance of enjoyment. Charles took his cue from this, and found Lady Henrietta Redpath in the throng. He had only to mention the expedition to Southampton for her to begin a detailed recital of every shop they had entered, and the purchases acquired, and the inn where they had obtained a cold collation. He had very little to do except nod occasionally and murmur ‘Really?’ or ‘How fortunate?’ or ‘Was it indeed?’ for her to continue. It was not interesting, but he recalled his book — ‘However trifling their conversation, do not show them, by your inattention, that you think them trifling’ — and made a great effort to attend.