CHAPTER 31

Ignoring the pang that jolted her insides, she straightened her cap and hurried on her way. How could they sort things out if he wouldn’t even speak to her? If this was love, then she didn’t think much of the misery and hurt it inflicted. Such were her thoughts that by the time she found herself back at Picky Pike’s, she’d convinced herself she was better off without him.

‘Good afternoon, Lily.’ Glancing up, she saw Rupert Mountsford alighting from his carriage. Immaculately dressed in a crisp dark suit with blue silk cravat, he was smiling at her in such an admiring way that she clean forgot her wounded pride.

‘Mr Mountsford, er, I mean Rupert,’ she acknowledged, giving him her brightest smile, and hoping she didn’t look as dishevelled as she felt.

‘I was about to partake of some afternoon refreshment. Would it be very forward of me to ask if you would care to join me?’ he enquired.

‘Oh, yes. I mean that would be nice but I’m not sure if I should. Mrs Bodney might have something she wishes me to do …’ She stuttered to a halt.

‘Indeed, she does, Lily,’ and as if someone had conjured her up, her employer appeared on the doorstep before her. ‘I have something to attend to back at my cottage, and now, it seems a visitor who requires looking after here. Regrettably, I cannot manage both at the same time, so I’d be obliged if you would take Rupert through to the parlour and ask Tilda to bring you some afternoon tea. Her presence should be sufficient to quieten any no-good gossipers on this Sabbath day,’ she added, her lips twitching.

‘If you are sure, Mrs Bodney, then I would be delighted to accept your kind invitation,’ Rupert said, bowing respectfully.

‘Rupert, please accept my sincere apologies for not being able to join you. Although, something tells me my presence will not be missed too much,’ she said, giving him an outrageous wink and hurrying on her way.

‘Well, Lily, is that agreeable with you?’ asked Rupert, solicitous as ever. ‘I wouldn’t wish to inconvenience you if you have other plans.’ He was gazing at her so intently her heart began beating like the clappers on the church bells. As she stood there feeling attractive and appreciated, the hurt of the morning vanished like the mist.

Smiling coyly up at him, she opened the door. Then, completely forgetting the propriety of ringing for the maid, she called to Tilda to bring a tray of tea for two through to the parlour. Rupert folded his lean frame into the comfortable chair beside the fireplace, and then sat looking intently at her. The atmosphere felt charged, as though something exciting was about to happen, and although Lily didn’t fully understand, she was enjoying the tingly feeling she was experiencing when he smiled at her.

‘Lily, it has been an age since we were last together, though I must confess to thinking of you often whilst we’ve been apart.’

‘Mr Mountsford, you do say such funny things. You must have a very busy life in London.’

‘Rupert, please, Lily. And yes, I am kept busy. However, my dealings in Bransbeer ensure I return on a regular basis and I can’t think of anything nicer than spending time with you.’ Not knowing what to say, she looked down at her boots.

‘The weather is still quite clement so perhaps, when we’ve had our tea, we could take a stroll through the village?’ he asked, smiling at her. Lily looked at him in surprise but the moment was broken as Tilda came bustling into the room carrying a laden tray.

‘Here we are, Miss Rose, your tea – and I’ve taken the liberty of adding slices of Mrs Bodney’s best pound cake,’ she proudly announced, flushing as she looked at Rupert.

Once the little maid had left, Lily turned her attention to her duties as hostess. But Rupert was watching her closely and her hands trembled as she poured their tea. Whatever was the matter with her? If he noticed, he was too polite to show it, reaching out and helping himself to a slice of cake. Why was she flustered, she wondered.

‘Relax, Lily dear,’ he said, grinning at her so roguishly she felt her cheeks growing hot. Should he be saying such things, she wondered. Seeking refuge in her drink, she endeavoured to sip it in the ladylike manner of Mrs Bodney and tried to think of something to say.

‘This tea of Mrs Bodney’s is deliciously strong, isn’t it? Ours at home was always as weak as water.’

Her comment was met with silence. Looking up, she was surprised to find Rupert had gone quite red in the face. Suddenly, the rhythmic ticking of the mantel clock seemed inordinately loud. Then, seeming to have regained his composure, he smiled across at her.

‘Indeed,’ was his only comment, and she wondered what on earth she’d said. Picking up her cup again, she sipped her drink.

He then asked, ‘Are you not having any cake?’

She shook her head, knowing that she being so nervous, the fruit would stick in her throat. He, however, had no qualms and ate heartily. When he’d finished, he returned the plate to the tray and extracted a snowy handkerchief from his pocket. She watched in fascination as he delicately wiped first his lips and then his long, neatly manicured fingers. Again, she couldn’t help comparing them to Tom’s work-roughened skin, but now Rupert was rising to his feet.

‘Thank you for your kind hospitality, but regrettably I must take my leave for I have urgent business to attend to before my journey back to London. However, I will ensure I return in time for the Harvest Supper. Until then, Lily,’ he said, bowing, and before she had even had time to draw breath he’d gone.

Well, I never, she thought. He treated me just like a lady. But then she remembered he’d left so quickly, they hadn’t gone for the walk he’d suggested.

Mrs Bodney bustled into the room, cradling a parcel in her arms. Placing it on the chair, she looked around.

‘Rupert gone already?’ she asked in surprise.

‘He said he had business to attend to before he returns to London, but will be back in time for the Harvest Supper.’

‘Did he indeed?’ her employer asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘Well, it gives us time to see about your outfit for that evening. It is imperative you look the part and I’ve the very thing.’ She untied the parcel and held a swathe of sapphire material in front of Lily. Cocking her head to one side, she studied the effect and then nodded. ‘A few nips here and tucks there and this will be perfect. I do envy you your sylphlike form, but then you are a few years younger. Now slip this on while I get my pins.’ Lily took the gown, running her hands over the velvet nap, marvelling at its softness.

‘It’s only velveteen, as I said earlier, but it should suffice,’ Mrs Bodney said, sweeping back into the room.

‘It’s very kind of you, but I can’t possibly wear this.’

Mistaking her concern, the other woman brushed her worries aside with a shake of her hand. ‘Of course you can. I don’t mind you borrowing it in the slightest. I even have a reticule that complements it perfectly. As I said earlier, it’s imperative you look the part, Lily.’

‘But it’s blue, and I’m still in mourning for my mother.’

‘Oh, Lily, I’m sorry, I’d quite forgotten,’ Mrs Bodney said, looking concerned. She was quiet for a moment. ‘I know it’s not yet six months since she died, and then you’ll be free to cast off those dark garments, but I’m sure the Good Lord will forgive us being slightly premature for one night. It is in a good cause, after all. Yes, I’m sure that will be all right,’ she added as if to convince herself as well as Lily. ‘After all, you can go back to wearing black after the Harvest Supper. Come along, let’s get you fitted.’

Seeing further protest would be futile, Lily clambered out of her sober black then gently stepped into the brilliant blue. Immediately, she felt brighter, and as she moved around the soft folds clung to her like a second skin.

‘Why, it doesn’t need altering at all, Mrs Bodney,’ she exclaimed.

‘Believe you me, a little adjustment here and there will make it look as if the dress was made for you. Perception is all, Lily, remember that.’ She kneeled down and began pinning the dress.

‘Yes, Mrs Bodney,’ Lily answered, not having a clue what the other woman meant, but not wishing to appear rude. It seemed to be an age before the other woman finally got to her feet, telling Lily to turn around slowly. Then, after a few more pins were added here and there, she finally seemed satisfied.

‘Right, you may now step out of the dress. But gently, Lily, you don’t want to go undoing my hard work.’

Carefully, slipping out of the dress, Lily held it out to her employer.

‘Goodness, child, do you expect me to do everything for you?’ Mrs Bodney asked, shaking her head. ‘Your stitches are as neat as any I’ve seen, so away and make the adjustments yourself. Take a candle through to the workroom. You can lay the dress out over the big table so that it doesn’t touch the floor. Here’s my sewing basket; you’ll find thread to match the material inside,’ she said, waving her hand at Lily. ‘I’ll be in to see how you’re getting on later.’

In the workroom, Lily settled to her task. Nervous in case she made a mess of the fine material, she carefully followed the line of the pins. Then, as she saw the new outline taking shape, her confidence grew so that by the time Mrs Bodney returned, she was just finishing off the final stitches.

‘Well, Lily, this is superb work,’ Mrs Bodney said, holding the material up to the light of the candle to inspect her stitching. ‘Well done. You will do Rupert proud.’ She stood back, eyeing Lily critically. ‘We must do something with that hair, though. A chignon will suit, I think.’

‘A what?’ Lily asked, shaking her head.

‘It’s an elegant knot, Lily. It will show off your shoulders to perfection. I’ll get Tilda to press the dress ready for Saturday. Now it’s getting late, so I’ll bid you good night and see you back here first thing in the morning. We have but a few short weeks left to finish making the Queen’s lace. I trust everything is in order?’

‘Yes, Mrs Bodney. It’s coming along …’ But she was talking to an empty room, her employer having left as soon as she’d heard the word ‘yes’.

That night her dreams were of dresses, dancing and desire. When she woke she felt hot, as if she were on fire. Easing open the skylight, she breathed in the cool morning air, smelling the tang of the sea. Her senses seemed heightened and yet she felt strangely unsettled. It must be that time, she thought, removing clean rags from her chest in readiness, then taking herself down the stairs.

‘You look feverish,’ Mary remarked, walking into the workroom sometime later. ‘Your eyes are bright as beacons. Are you feeling quite well?’

Lily looked up from her pillow. Although she’d been sitting here since first light, she’d had great difficulty concentrating, and consequently the lace for the collar was not progressing as quickly as it should have been.

‘I’m fine, Mary, thank you. Well, actually, I’m worried we’ll not get all the lace finished in time.’

‘It will be a close thing, I’ll admit, but we can only do our best,’ Mary said, shrugging.

‘That’s not good enough, though, is it?’ Lily sighed.

‘Well, wasting time fretting is not getting the work done,’ Mary pointed out.

Realizing the truth in the older woman’s words, Lily bent her head back over her pillow. Forcing herself to concentrate, she hardly noticed the others arriving. It took all her willpower to stop her thoughts from wandering, but she was determined that by the end of the day she’d have made enough lace to finish the collar. She bet Her Majesty had no idea how much sweat and toil was going in to the making of all this lace. Though, no doubt the seamstresses at Spitalfields were under the same pressure too.

‘Have you seen your Tom recently, Lily?’ She looked up to see Cora hovering beside her, clearly dying to impart some tittle-tattle. ‘What about you, Nell, have you seen him?’ she asked, turning to her friend. But for once the other girl didn’t answer.

Trying to appear casual, Lily said, ‘No. Why, have you?’

‘I heard he’d sold his boat and gone off on his travels.’

‘Yes, I heard something like that too. Now please return to your pillow, it’s time I inspected the lace and I’ll begin with yours.’ Trying not to smile at Cora’s obvious disappointment, she snapped into overseer mode.

It took her some time to check all their work, and there was no chance of further conversation. By the end of the day, she was surprised to see that they were on schedule after all.

Feeling heartened and relieved that she hadn’t lied to Mrs Bodney the previous evening, she bade them good evening, and then sat there in the gathering dusk going over what Cora had said about Tom and his boat. It appeared Mrs Westlake had been telling the truth, so where had he gone?