The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2)

by Mary Kingswood

  It was not until dinner that evening that matters went awry. They were well into the second course and Charles was feeling quite mellow, when Will said brightly, “Charles and I went to Bursham Cottage today. The two younger Miss Milburns were out, but we were so fortunate as to find Miss Milburn at home. I thought she was in remarkably good looks. Did you not think so, Charles?”

  “You called upon Miss Milburn?” Mildred said, in tones of astonishment.

  “Why, yes. She was most agreeable, and told me all about her two sisters and their forthcoming marriages. One is to marry an attorney, and the younger is to marry their gardener. Not a great match, but she has money of her own, so they will do well enough, I daresay, and they are all to live at the cottage, so their expenses will be low.”

  “But—” Mildred said.

  “He will not be a gardener for much longer,” Charles said, trying not to feel smug. “I have today arranged for him to be taken on as apprentice to our local apothecary.”

  “Oh Charles!” his step-mother cried. “You have not!”

  “Indeed I have. He was very happy to do it, too, for a modest fee.”

  “You paid him? Oh Charles! How could you?”

  “Why should I not?” he said testily. “It is a small cost to me to help out a neighbour improve his prospects, and the money will come from my saved army pay, so it will not be a drain on the estate.”

  “It is not the money, dear,” she said sadly. “Do you not see? If you pay Mr Ascot to train poor John Christopher, a man with no obvious claim on you, everyone will say that there must be a reason and look at poor Poppy and wonder.”

  Charles felt fury rise inside him. Angrily he tossed down the spoonful of stewed peas he had been about to eat. Four pairs of eyes watched him anxiously. Was he about to explode in rage?

  With an effort of will, he remembered Caroline’s grateful face smiling up at him, and the way she had laid her hand on his arm as she thanked him. Yes, he had done the right thing, and no one would convince him otherwise. Deliberately he reached for his wine glass, took a sip, set it carefully back on the table.

  “It does not concern me what others might say,” he said quietly. “My character is such, I hope, that no accusation of that nature could be given credence. I have a responsibility to exercise my influence for the good of the local people when they find themselves in trouble, and I will not be deterred from doing what I believe to be right by any concerns of what the tattle-mongers might say.”

  “But Charles—”

  His father held up one hand, and the room fell silent. “My dear, let us hear no more objections. Charles is a man grown, and is perfectly capable of deciding such questions for himself.”

  “But Ambrose—”

  “Enough, my dear. Is there any of that delicious braised calf’s ear left? I should be very glad of another spoonful.”

  They lapsed into silence. When the servants came in, cleared the covers and set out dessert, Mrs Leatham, although slightly pink-cheeked, kept up a stream of small-talk to amuse Will, but as soon as the servants had withdrawn, silence again descended.

  Charles had never before known his father to reprimand his step-mother, or to speak out at all in any matter under discussion. If it had been Mildred on the receiving end of such a reproach, he might have been tempted to gloat, but he could only sympathise with his step-mother, who had been used to speak her mind without reservation and now found that there were limits even for her easy-going husband.

  Yet he could not but be pleased. Support from such a quarter was of all things the most unexpected, and yet the most welcome, too. He felt as he had once, after a particularly trying day in the field, when his colonel had singled him out for particular praise. ‘Heroism,’ he had said, ‘is not always spectacular or dramatic. Sometimes it is no more than dogged determination and a willingness to persevere even when all seems lost.’ Dogged determination… yes, he had a great deal of that. To be a good soldier… to be a gentleman… and now, to be a good neighbour and landowner.

  But there was one more. To be Caroline’s husband. Yes, he had enough dogged determination for that. And yet…

  As he looked across the table at Will, he knew that he might already be too late.

  26: Moral Guidance

  Nothing material was said that evening until the elder Mr Leatham retired to bed. There being only three left at the whist table, for Mildred would not play, the cards were abandoned for the delights of the tea tray and the cake board.

  “Charles…” his step-mother began, looking at him nervously.

  “Yes, Mama?” He gave her an affectionate smile. “You may say whatever is in your mind, but do not ask me to withdraw my offer to pay for Christopher’s apprenticeship.”

  “Oh no! I would not…! Your papa was so—! I would not go against his wishes, but I should like to talk about Miss Milburn, if that would not be disagreeable to you, because I do not believe her to be the right person for you to marry,” she finished in a rush.

  Will looked up from the cakes. “Charles has no intention of marrying Miss Milburn, Cousin Daphne. His very cunning scheme at Narfield Lodge was for her to help him choose a bride from amongst the offerings there. Although I do not think that worked terribly well, did it, Charles?”

  “Oh,” Mrs Leatham said. “No intention, Charles?”

  “He says she is a shrew,” Will went on complacently. “However, I suspect she is only ill-tempered with him, because he dislikes her so. She is perfectly amiable with me. These lemon cakes are delicious, cousin. Mrs Bendish has excelled herself.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes were round as she gazed at Charles speculatively. “In that case… what do you say to Miss Narfield?”

  “No.”

  “One of the Miss Wynnes? Although—”

  “No, and not any of the Miss Redpaths, either.”

  “Oh. But Charles, you did say I might choose your bride for you? Did you not?”

  He laughed. “I did, and you chose Miss Milburn. Now you advise against her, so we are at a stand, are we not?”

  She fiddled with the fringe of her shawl as she said, “May a lady not change her mind?”

  Charles smiled benignly at her, for he now had the inkling of an idea of how to deal with Will, who had not yet heard the full story of Poppy and John Christopher. Charles himself would not hold Poppy’s misbehaviour against Caroline, but Will was a clergyman and might have misgivings on the subject.

  “You may change your mind as many times as you like, Mama, but I only agreed to offer for Miss Milburn. Having done so and been rejected in no uncertain terms, you must now leave me to choose for myself. After all, there is less urgency now that Will is considering matrimony. That would relieve your mind, I am certain, and he does not seem to object to Miss Milburn, sullied though she is.”

  “Will?” Mrs Leatham said.

  “Sullied?” Will said, a lemon cake hovering half way to his mouth.

  “Has no one yet told you of the scandal embroiling the Milburn sisters?” Charles said blandly.

  “Scandal?”

  Mildred turned reproachful eyes on Charles. “That was rather remiss of you, Mr Leatham, not to give your cousin just a hint of the situation pertaining at Bursham Cottage before he called there this morning. I do not expect everyone to have my scruples about immorality, for my standards are very high, and you must do as you see fit, but your cousin is a man of the cloth.”

  “Immorality?” Will said, setting the lemon cake back on his plate. “Miss Milburn?”

  “Not that Miss Milburn,” Mrs Leatham said. “Not directly. It is her sister. Miss Poppy Milburn’s marriage to the vicar’s son is to be… rather hasty.”

  “Ah. So that was what you were talking about.” Will glanced quickly at Charles, then hastily picked up the lemon cake again and took a nonchalant bite.

  Charles sighed. “Now you are doing exactly what Mama feared. Let me set your mind at rest, Will. Poppy Milburn’s condition is none of my doing. It may
all be set at the door of the vicar’s boy.”

  “Of course, of course,” Will spluttered, through a mouthful of cake. “Never suspected… not a thought of such a thing… none at all, I assure you. No one could believe it of you.”

  “On the contrary,” Mildred said calmly. “Everyone always thinks the worst of a neighbour. Only we, who understand Mr Leatham so well, know the truth. His actions in supporting Mr Christopher may be misguided, but they are honourable.”

  “Thank you, Miss Beacher,” Charles said, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm, making her a small bow.

  “Misguided… yes,” Will said thoughtfully. “It is an unfortunate situation, but if they are to be married… It will all be forgot in time.”

  “Such things are never forgotten,” Mildred said.

  “No, indeed,” Mrs Leatham said. “I fear that all three girls must be tainted by association. Mr Stratton may even cry off his marriage to Miss Elinor. He has his own reputation to consider, and for you as a clergyman, Will…”

  Charles said nothing, leaving Mildred and his step-mother to put the case to Will, which they did with great energy until they deemed it time to retire. Charles would have gone up too, but Will said, “Shall we play piquet for a while? And perhaps a brandy before bed?”

  Silently, Charles prepared the card table while Will poured the brandy, and for some time they played without much conversation.

  Then Will burst out, “What am I to do, Charles? Should I marry her or not?”

  It was so tempting to answer such an appeal according to the wishes of his own heart. No, you should not marry her! Run away and leave her to me. But his conscience intervened.

  “How can I answer such a question? You must make up your own mind, Will, as we all must, in the end.”

  “You do not regard her as beyond redemption, do you?” Will said. “You are still willing to call upon her and offer help to her family.”

  “Of course. There are behaviours which would cause me to drop an acquaintance, but not this. Miss Milburn cannot be blamed for the sins of her unfortunate sister.”

  “But it is a sin,” Will said slowly. “Upon that point there can be no argument. The younger sister has sinned, and the older must bear some of her shame. As a clergyman, I cannot be seen to condone sin. And yet… she seemed so perfect.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “What has that to say to anything? Marriage is not about love.”

  Charles’ eyebrows shot up. “Is it not? I agree there may be other considerations, but surely there must be affection before anything else?”

  “That is fine talk from the man who offered for Miss Milburn without the least affection,” Will said, and Charles had the oddest feeling that his cousin was sneering at him.

  “I was wrong to do so,” he said quietly. “Miss Milburn quite properly told me exactly what she thought of that. Yes, there must be affection, Will. What other foundation can there be?”

  “Why, money,” Will said in surprised tones. “I cannot afford to marry without considerations of money, Charles. A woman with a little money of her own to bring to the marriage, and a certain attraction in her person, and not too high in the instep to look at a lowly clergyman with few prospects. Miss Milburn was perfect.” He sighed. “How pleasant it would be to go about my daily round, knowing a woman such as that to be waiting for me at home.”

  “I can see the attraction in that,” Charles said dryly.

  “An undemanding woman who will run my house smoothly, attend to my every comfort and put a good dinner on the table every night, without waste or extravagance.”

  Charles was bemused as he tried to reconcile this view of marital bliss with argumentative Caroline. He had no answer, however, and so he allowed Will to run on in this vein until they were both ready to retire.

  It seemed that Will was not deterred by Caroline’s brush with scandal, and perhaps he would press his suit on her. Would she accept him? Charles could not determine the answer to that, knowing only that he would be utterly miserable if she did. His future lay in Caroline’s hands. He had seldom been in such low spirits.

  ~~~~~

  Caroline hummed as she worked on her lace. She liked having the house to herself, apart from the servants. Molly was busy in the kitchen, Martin would be out in the stables and Susie was somewhere upstairs, but everyone else was gone. Her accounts were balanced, and she was in harmony with the world.

  Charles Leatham had come, as usual, before breakfast. He still didn’t have his book about gentlemanly behaviour, but he’d wanted to ask her about the mill at Corranford, which the bailiff thought was not producing as much as it should. Not that Caroline knew a thing about mills, but she could listen while he explained it and ask the occasional question, and he had gone away much happier, and resolved to talk to the miller alone, without the bailiff present. He was a strange man, she decided, but a great deal less provoking that he’d been when she’d first known him.

  In the middle of the morning, Mr Will Leatham called again. That was puzzling, for he’d paid his duty call only the day before, and since it was to be only a brief visit, she’d supposed she wouldn’t see him again. Yet here he was, and not at all his usual unruffled self. He looked grave, and wandered about the parlour in a manner which reminded her of his cousin, although he didn’t slap his gloves against his thigh in suppressed anger.

  “You are alone today, Miss Milburn?”

  “As you see. Mrs Stratton left this morning to return home to Romsey, and Lin has gone with her for a visit. Poppy has gone down to the vicarage to be instructed in the responsibilities of marriage, since she’ll soon be entering that state.”

  He frowned. “Miss Milburn, I am sure you are aware of… of certain rumours regarding your sister.”

  “I never listen to gossip,” Caroline said, in an acid tone. It was not true, of course, for she enjoyed a good gossip as much as anyone, but the circumstances of Poppy’s marriage were no business of Will Leatham’s.

  “Oh, quite, quite. But as a friend to you all — I hope and trust I may claim that privilege — and also in my rôle as a clergyman—”

  “I assure you, Mr Leatham, we are very well supplied with moral guidance from our own clergyman.”

  “True, but one feels… one cannot help but feel that in this case, where there is clear wrongdoing, there must be something amiss in the moral guidance he provides. Do you not agree?”

  Now that was a very good point. The vicar’s son ought to have the highest principles.

  “If your sister had been properly taught from the pulpit, then this tragic outcome could have been avoided, one feels.”

  “Wait a moment,” Caroline said. “Are you placing all the blame on Poppy for this?”

  “Is it not the female of the species who holds to the highest standards or propriety and conduct? A young man will always be a little wild, if permitted, but a correctly instructed young lady will always be able to hold him in restraint.”

  Caroline jumped to her feet, boiling with anger. “Mr Leatham, I am far from being an expert on the subject, but I believe it is generally acknowledged that it requires the participation of two people to create a child. Poppy may not be blameless, but the heaviest responsibility for her present situation lies with John Christopher.”

  He had risen, too, and now his face was dark. “If that is indeed your opinion, then you stand in as much need of moral guidance as your sister,” he said coldly. “It is always the woman who leads in moral matters, the woman who defines the terms of any connection. Surely you know this? It is the very reason that a woman who loses her reputation loses everything. If once she permits… liberties, then she is lost. In this case, the young man has chosen to wed, but if he had not—”

  “You don’t need to tell me what happens when a man chooses not to wed the woman he has dishonoured, Mr Leatham, for my own mother was the product of just such a union.”

  “You speak as if you are proud of it!”

 
“It does not embarrass me, for it was none of my doing. I am perfectly willing to accept censure for my own follies, but I will never be ashamed of my mother’s birth or Poppy’s mistakes. If Poppy, in her innocence, feels no shame in her situation, why should I do so? She made a mistake, she will wed and put it behind her, and there is an end to the matter.”

  “Indeed it is,” he said stiffly. “I beg your pardon for proffering opinions so disgusting to you, Miss Milburn. Pray give my… my best wishes to your sister. To both your sisters. I bid you a good day.”

  Susie, who was more concerned than Caroline about propriety, had been hovering outside the open parlour door ready to show him out. That done, she came back into the parlour, and laughed.

  “Lord, you look fit to burst, Miss Milburn! I ain’t seen you so worked up since… well, since that Mr Charles was first coming here.”

  “Insufferable man! Horrid prig! Despicable, self-righteous, pompous, arrogant, self-satisfied, moralistic, smug, horrible man!” Caroline spat out, still pacing up and down.

  Susie laughed. “Aye, he’s all that and more, but aren’t they all, these rich people? They think they’re so much better than everyone else, but I’ll bet they have their little mistakes, too, just like Poppy.”

  “That’s true. The duke said as much,” Caroline said, much struck. “He was talking about Mama, but he said such things happen even in the best-regulated families. Even in his, he said. So there is no need for Mr High-and-mighty Will Leatham to look down his supercilious nose at us.” She sighed gustily. “Although I suppose he is right, and I should feel shame at Poppy’s disgrace. Indeed, it is mortifying to have a sister in such a situation, but he need not have lectured me so. Trust a clergyman to preach morality!”

  “At least we won’t see him again, and that’s a mercy,” Susie said. “Can’t have you flying up into the boughs like this.”

  “True. I am too upset for lace work now. I shall look over the accounts again, I think.”

  But before she could move from the parlour, another visitor arrived — Mr Charles Leatham, in some agitation. “I thought Will would be here. Is he here? Has he called?”