“Those Milburn girls. They’ve been nothing but trouble since the day they arrived. Interfering where they shouldn’t and putting honest folk out of business.”
Charles pondered these puzzling remarks, before remembering an altercation at Bursham Cottage, when Mr Ascot had been seated next to Lin at dinner. “Miss Elinor Milburn?” he hazarded. “Something to do with rhubarb, perhaps?”
“Aye, rhubarb and other things. Shouldn’t interfere. I know I haven’t had the supplies lately, not since my last apprentice left, but that doesn’t mean—” He threw Charles a self-conscious glance. “Hmpf. No use telling you about it, I suppose.”
He walked off before Charles could ask him what he meant.
Charles walked his step-mother back to their carriage where his father was already seated, and, surprisingly, Mildred.
“Not talking to your friends today, dear?” Mrs Leatham said to her.
Mildred pursed her lips in distaste. “I rather fear I am out of step with the majority in not offering congratulations for a certain event. I cannot bring myself to appear to condone such wickedness.”
“Oh dear! Mildred!” Mrs Leatham said. “As Christians one must forgive—”
“Forgive, but not condone,” Mildred said repressively, turning her head away to forestall further discussion.
They sat in silence as the coachman manoeuvred the carriage through the throngs leaving the church.
Charles tapped one foot impatiently. He hated to argue with Mildred, for it always ended with her quoting some Biblical text at him with unanswerable righteousness, but he could not be silent.
“I do not think it right to turn our backs on anyone who makes a mistake,” he said. “We are all human, are we not? We all have weaknesses and foibles, and when we stray from the path of perfection, our friends stand by us. And even if one sister has strayed, it does not mean we should punish the rest too.”
His step-mother glanced at Mildred, but she was still facing away from them. “Oh dear,” Mrs Leatham said. “It is so difficult. One cannot object to persons who come from a station in life somewhat below one’s own, not if they know how to behave and are… are virtuous, but… oh dear.” She tailed off, with a helpless wave of her hands.
Mildred turned her head. “Persons with such a lowly background cannot be expected to know how to behave. That is why I advised against associating with them right from the start, and why I at least am not faced with such a dilemma. I shall treat the Miss Milburns as I have always done, as persons less fortunate than myself in terms of education and quickness of mind and position in society, and therefore possible objects of my charity and compassion, but not to be treated as an equal.”
She closed her lips firmly, as if the final word had been spoken and the discussion was now closed. Perhaps in her eyes it had been, but Charles seethed inwardly. Loud and clear in his mind he heard Caroline’s voice saying, ‘I’d have said myself that she’s a sanctimonious prig.’
“Oh dear,” Mrs Leatham said again, clutching her Prayer Book tightly. “Of course we should forgive the poor girl, for that is our Christian duty, and I hope I never shirk my duty. Even so…” Her voice tailed off, and a frown creased her brow, a rare sight. “Charles, I will be honest with you, and pray do not jump down my throat, but upon reflection I do believe Mildred has the right of it. Their reputations must be damaged. All of them. It is quite inescapable, and we shall have to consider how much we can have to do with them. None but the highest sticklers would cut them altogether, but the sort of association we have had until now… An alliance would be impossible, Charles, you must see that.”
“You mean that after pushing me into Miss Milburn’s most unwilling arms, you have now thought better of it? That is shallow, Mama, very shallow. If she had accepted me when I proposed, I should now be committed to the marriage and could not honourably withdraw.”
“But she did not, dear,” his step-mother said gently. “So now we must look elsewhere, for someone… unsullied. Someone whose behaviour will always be… upright.”
Mildred smiled superciliously. “‘Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.’”
“‘Blessed are the merciful,’” Charles spat back.
“‘Blessed are ye that weep now, for ye shall laugh. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.’” She smirked in triumph.
Charles gave up the unequal battle to get the better of Mildred, and fumed all the way home.
25: Help And Support
Nothing more was said about the Miss Milburns, and it was not until dinner was at an end and his step-mother and Mildred had withdrawn, that Charles felt able to raise the subject. His father, he felt sure, would advise him.
“What do you think of the business with the Miss Milburns?” he began. “Are you inclined to be censorious, like Mildred? Or concerned about the possibility of taint, like Mama? What is your opinion, sir?”
“It is an interesting question,” his father said. “There is much to be said on those points, but your view is different, I think.”
“Why should you think so?” Charles said.
“If it were not so, you would hardly ask me for my thoughts on the subject,” his father said in his mild way. “If you agreed wholeheartedly with Miss Beacher or Mrs Leatham, you would be satisfied and would ask no further. It is because you are not satisfied that you pursue the matter.”
“Very well then,” Charles said. “Let us suppose that to be true. I am dissatisfied both with Mildred’s absolute condemnation of wrongdoing, and with Mama’s wish not to be associated with it. I should like, therefore, to know your views.”
“Do my views matter?”
“Of course they matter! I must always listen to my own father’s advice.”
“So it is advice you want, is it? Which you will take only if it agrees with your own wishes.”
“Am I to take it that you will not help me?” Charles said in frustration. “You must have some opinion on right and wrong, sir!”
“Indeed I do, insofar as my own behaviour is concerned, but surely it is your own view that must prevail? Your step-mother must decide for herself how to respond to the changes in circumstance at Bursham Cottage, as must Miss Beacher, as must I. As must you, Charles. You know in your heart what is right and what is wrong.”
Charles sighed heavily. “When I was at Narfield Lodge, I had the interesting experience of hearing Lord Narfield and some of his guests debating points of political or philosophical moment with great energy and articulacy. None of them hesitated to express an opinion in the most robust terms, or to admit when another made a good point. I had hoped that you might indulge me with a similar discussion, not in personal terms but in the abstract.”
His father set his port glass down on the table. “That would please me greatly, but I give you due notice, Charles, that if you lose your temper, then the discussion will be over.”
“Is that why you hold back?” Charles said, astonished. “You fear my intemperance? That is a dreadful indictment on my behaviour in recent weeks.”
“It is not so much fear,” his father said, eyes twinkling. “It is no more than a dislike of the ruffling effect of youthful energy. I have reached an age when I value calmness above everything — regularity, order, as many books as I can read and my favourite foods at dinner every night. Your step-mother manages everything to my liking, and neither Alfred nor Ben ever disturbed that tranquillity. But you are a very different sort of man, Charles. Not better or worse, you understand… merely different. You have more energy in your little finger than Alfred, Ben and I could muster between the three of us, and I have found it unsettling at times. However, you have been calmer of late, and perhaps we can rub along better now.”
Charles shook his head ruefully. “You make me ashamed… or even more ashamed, I should say. I have been unbearable, I know it, and your forbearance is more than I deserve.
Can you forgive me?”
“Only if you will pour me another port,” his father said with a smile. “I cannot be philosophical without a full glass in my hand, you know.”
“With the greatest pleasure, Papa.”
~~~~~
Charles went to bed in a happier frame of mind. He felt as if he had grown up at last, for his father was treating him as an equal, and although he offered his son no advice, Charles found his mind clearer for the discussion. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he understood his own mind better. Somehow, he could not quite say how, Caroline had become indispensable for his happiness, and he would not turn his back on her simply because she had a foolish sister.
The next morning he went early to Bursham Cottage and found her already at her lacemaking, a smile on her face.
“You are feeling better this morning. I am glad of it,” he said simply.
“Oh yes! I was too ridiculous for words when you found me the other day, but they are to be married and all will be well, I am sure of it.”
“They will live with you here?”
“Yes, although where we will all fit in, I cannot imagine, not with Lin and Mr Stratton as well, and the nursery. I daresay I shall be sleeping above the stables!”
“You will not be here long, I imagine,” he said, eagerly. “You will marry and—”
“Marry? Me? You know better than anyone that I have no ambition for the married state.” She laughed, not at all discomfited by the subject.
“I hope you will change your mind about that,” he said slowly, watching her face carefully. “It would be a waste for you to dwindle into spinsterhood, the little-thought-of aunt to your sisters’ children. You will marry, I believe, and rather better than your sisters.”
She showed no sign of consciousness, merely laughing and shaking her head, but he was satisfied to have tiptoed around the subject. He knew he must approach one step at a time, but he was determined to bring her around to the idea in time, and then… then he could offer for her again.
In this beguiling scheme, he had forgotten about Will, but Will, it seemed, had not forgotten about Caroline. When Charles returned to Starlingford for breakfast, he discovered a letter from Will announcing his intention to visit, which was followed, within an hour, by the man himself, all beaming delight and eager anticipation.
“This is very unexpected, Will,” Mrs Leatham said, stepping around his large quantity of luggage in the hall to greet him. “Naturally we are quite delighted, but… are we to have the pleasure of your company for a long stay?”
“No, no, just until Saturday. I cannot obtain a replacement for the Sunday offices at such short notice, so I must return to do my duty. Well, well, this is pleasant, to be back here so soon. Ah, Miss Beacher! Your smiling countenance is not the least of Starlingford’s attractions. You are well, I trust?”
He bowed over her hand, and, it was true, there was a smile on her face. Of course, he was a clergyman, which she must approve, but even so, it was such a contrast with her usual humourless expression that Charles was quite struck. Will could charm even the morose Mildred into cheerfulness.
Will had barely shaken the dust of the road from his boots before he wanted to walk to the cottage. If Mrs Leatham was surprised at such interest, she was too well-bred to mention it. Charles felt obliged to accompany him, telling himself that his motives were purely to facilitate introductions, since Will knew only Caroline. He need not have been concerned, however, for Mrs Stratton had whisked the two future brides off to Salisbury for some essential shopping against the happy days to come. Fortunately, Caroline was not part of the expedition. The maid showed Charles and Will into the study.
Caroline looked up in surprise. “Mr Leatham! And Mr Will Leatham. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, either of you. Please come in. May I offer you some refreshments? Madeira? Cake?”
They accepted the Madeira and refused the cake. While she was pouring for them, Caroline said, “You find me struggling with my accounts, gentlemen. I can’t get the numbers to agree at all.”
“That is not like you, Miss Milburn,” Charles said. “As a rule, all numbers bow to your superiority.”
She laughed. “I wish these numbers would do so. There’s something wrong, but I can’t find my mistake. I have been in this room ever since breakfast, labouring away, but I cannot solve it.”
“Then let us take you away from your desk for a while,” Will said. “Shall we walk in the garden? The clouds have quite disappeared, and I am sure the sunshine would do you good.”
Caroline fetched a bonnet and shawl, and they went out through the morning room door.
“That is a charming bonnet, Miss Milburn,” Will said, offering her his arm. “Is it new?”
“It is. Poppy and Miss Stratton contrived it while I was staying at Narfield Lodge, and decided it was just the thing to wear with this shawl.”
“Indeed it is,” Will said gallantly. “You look most fetching in it. That style becomes you admirably, Miss Milburn. You would turn heads even in London attired as you are now.”
“Thank you, sir,” she murmured.
The path was only wide enough for two, so Charles was forced to walk behind and could not see her face, but he imagined her quizzical expression at such fulsome compliments. Still, Will’s charm was powerful and she was soon chattering away to him as if she had known him for ever. He wanted to know all about the forthcoming marriage to the attorney, and she told him about the newest betrothal in the family, although without mentioning the reason for it, naturally. Will was suitably congratulatory.
They quickly exhausted the possibilities of the small pleasure garden, and the orchard held the tethered goats, so their steps led inevitably to the kitchen garden, where the Christopher boy was hard at work again. He lifted his hat and leaned on his hoe as they drew near.
“Mornin’, Miss Milburn. Mornin’, Mr Leatham, sir.”
“Good morning, John,” Caroline said. “Mr Leatham, John Christopher is the son of our vicar, and soon to be Poppy’s husband. John, here is another Mr Leatham to admire your handiwork. Goodness, but everything has come on lately. Whatever are those great tall things?”
“Sea holly, miss.”
“It’s quite pretty, but… which part is for eating?”
“Oh, it’s not for eatin’, Miss Milburn. You soak the root in wine, and then it’s good for dropsy. The endives there, you use the leaves. It cools the liver, and it’s very good for hot fits of the ague. This one here, that’s sweet marjoram, which Miss Lin uses for cold diseases of the head. It’s fascinatin’. Miss Lin’s been teachin’ me.”
“Has she, indeed,” Caroline said. “John, is there anything grown here purely for the table?”
He frowned, thinking it over. “Molly takes some of the herbs, sometimes. Oh, and apples! Plums, pears, apricots! Plenty of fruit in the orchard. And some gooseberries over there.”
“But no beans,” she said crisply. “No peas. No asparagus. No cucumbers. No lettuce or artichokes or celery. It’s all medicinal.”
He shuffled his feet awkwardly. Poor fellow! He had had a difficult few days, losing his job, discovering Poppy’s condition, finding himself about to be married, and now being harangued for something that was not his fault.
“I daresay Mr Christopher was only following orders,” Charles said mildly.
He brightened and nodded. “Aye, just followin’ orders from Miss Lin. I only did what she wanted.”
“But what does she do with all this bounty?” Will said, gazing at the row upon row of abundant growth. “No one in the family has dropsy, I am sure.”
“Bless you, sir, but it’s not for the house!” He chortled with merriment. “She sells it to anyone who needs it. Gets a good price for it, too, even though she charges a bit less than Mr Ascot.” Another chuckle. “Very clever, Miss Lin is.”
“Oh!” Caroline burst out laughing. “Money in, not money out. That’s why my numbers don’t add up. I should ha
ve read Lin’s records more carefully. But… charging less than Mr Ascot? Is Lin setting herself up as a rival apothecary, then? He won’t like that.”
“He does not,” Charles said. “He was grumbling about it at church yesterday.”
“Oh dear,” Caroline said. “I’d better go and see him.”
At that moment, Charles was struck by an ingenious scheme. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “you would permit me to undertake that duty for you, Miss Milburn? You have enough to do at the moment, and it might be the more easily settled between men. Mr Ascot is, I fear, the type of person who does not like to discuss business matters with a lady, and he has already raised the subject with me, so it will not look at all odd if I question him further about his concerns.”
She looked at him with clear surprise in her eyes. Those treacle eyes! So beautiful, with their frame of dark lashes…
“That would be very kind of you, Mr Leatham. Papa was just such a man, I confess, and never talked about his business with us. Perhaps if he had— But there, that was just the way he was, and at least he allowed me to help him with the accounts, so where money is concerned, I am quite at ease. But I don’t relish talking to Mr Ascot about Lin’s activities, and if you are willing to help, I’d be very grateful.”
When Will deemed it time to end the visit, he went on to Corranwater to leave his card for Lord and Lady Elland, while Charles walked into the village to call upon Mr Ascot. He found the apothecary very willing to unburden himself of all his grievances, and to listen to Charles’ proposals. At the end of no more than half an hour, Mr Ascot had agreed that, if Miss Elinor Milburn should only desist from selling her medicines in contention with his own preparations, he would undertake to buy certain herbs and roots from her to supplement his own supplies, and also to engage John Christopher as his apprentice, for a modest fee which Charles himself would pay.
Charles then went back to Bursham Cottage to explain to Caroline all that he had done, to be thanked profusely and to enjoy a celebratory glass of Madeira with her. Despite Will’s arrival and the niggling worry of his intentions towards Caroline, he felt the day had passed very satisfactorily.
The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2) Page 26