CHAPTER 39

‘If you’ve quite finished, Lily, I suggest we break our fast,’ Mrs Bodney finally said, picking up her knife and fork. ‘I’ve no intention of wasting good food, or my hard-earned money,’ she added.

Lily watched as the other woman began tucking into her meal, then shrugged and did likewise. They ate in silence, but the thickly cut ham was so delicious Lily hardly noticed the awkwardness. When they’d finished their meal, Mrs Bodney sat stirring her tea thoughtfully.

Finally, she looked up, asking, ‘Feeling better now, Lily?’

‘I enjoyed my meal, thank you,’ she answered carefully.

‘Your diplomacy does you credit, Lily,’ said her employer, smiling briefly. ‘Before we continue our journey, I want you to understand something. When you run a business, it becomes second nature to ensure everyone works efficiently. The old adage of time being money is still true today. When you have your own enterprise you will understand what I mean.’

‘That’s hardly likely to happen,’ spluttered Lily, looking incredulously at her employer.

‘Well, I understand from Lady Clinsden that you suggested it might be a good idea for her to have some lace collars and cuffs made so that she can attach them to her dresses and change their appearance without upsetting her husband.’

‘I offered to make her some, yes.’

‘And, she liked your suggestion and is commissioning you to make them when you have completed the lace for the Queen. Lily, you spotted a business opportunity that I did not, and believe you me, it’s rare for me to miss one. With initiative like that, you could become a successful business trader yourself.’

‘Well, even if I did, I would never be offensive to people who were trying to do their job,’ Lily retorted.

‘If I was a bit abrupt with that young girl it was because she was being sloppy; a trait I cannot abide,’ Mrs Bodney added, as if that explained everything.

‘What about the poor coach driver?’ Lily couldn’t help asking. ‘You were rude to him.’

The other woman sighed. ‘If you realized what a responsibility it is ensuring the Queen’s lace is safely transported, then you might understand my anxiety. Now come along, we’ve still a fair journey ahead of us.’ Rising to her feet, she hurried from the room, leaving Lily no choice but to follow. However, she couldn’t help smiling when, after settling the bill, her employer tossed a coin onto the bar.

‘A tip for the young waitress girl; please see that she gets it,’ she ordered, before sweeping outside.

The sun was peeping above Peak Hill, tinging its slopes with an orange hue. The air felt raw and a strong wind was blowing russet leaves from the trees in swathes. Shivering, Lily pulled her shawl tighter round her as they hastened back to the carriage. The driver was standing joking with the ostlers, but his laughter quickly changed to a grimace when he saw them approaching. Raising his eyebrows at the others, he sauntered over to the carriage and dutifully held the door open for them.

‘Thank you, my good man,’ Mrs Bodney said, stepping inside. His jaw dropped in surprise, and Lily had to turn her head to hide another grin. But then her employer, reverting to type, snapped, ‘I trust you’ve looked after my precious parcels, driver?’

‘Wouldn’t dare do anything else,’ he muttered before jumping onto his box and snatching up the reins. Lily groaned inwardly then settled back on the squabs, wrinkling her nose at the unfamiliar smell that still pervaded the interior. She was about to ask Mrs Bodney what it was when the other woman spoke.

‘You know, Lily, you remind me of myself a few years ago.’

‘Oh?’ Lily said in surprise, undecided if this was a good thing or not.

‘I wasn’t afraid to tell people what I thought either. Not that you would have dared to do so when you first started working for me. Quite the shy little thing, you were then. You’ve come a long way in, what is it, five months or so?’

‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney,’ she answered, not sure she liked being compared to her employer.

‘Mind you, I wouldn’t have sat there half the morning without demanding to know where I was going or why,’ she continued, giving Lily a conspiratorial grin.

Lily was relaxing back in her seat, thinking that perhaps her employer wasn’t so bad after all, when the carriage hit a rut. It jolted her forward so forcefully, her cap slipped down over her forehead.

‘For heaven’s sake do something with your appearance,’ Mrs Bodney snapped, opening her bag and handing Lily a hat pin. ‘Here, use this until your hair grows. I don’t want the others thinking I’ve brought a scarecrow from the country fields with me.’

‘The others?’ she asked, carefully fixing the pin through her cap and into her hair, so that it didn’t prick her scalp.

‘Yes, the women you will be working with. All those sprigs you’ve made need to be sewn together to form the flounce around Her Majesty’s dress. It’s to measure four yards in circumference. Can you imagine?’ she asked, shaking her head.

‘Oh,’ was all Lily could say, as she sat there trying to envisage such a thing.

‘Then there’s the veil, the collar, cuff edgings and all manner of adornments to be stitched and attached to the backing. I feel faint just thinking about it,’ Mrs Bodney said, shaking her head.

‘Where are we going to do all that?’ Lily couldn’t resist asking.

‘Ah, curiosity at last.’ Mrs Bodney raised her eyebrow. ‘I have secured premises in Honiton.’

‘Honiton? But that’s miles away. Why can’t we do this sewing up in the workroom?’

Mrs Bodney sighed. ‘Because it wouldn’t be big enough to accommodate the lace as it’s joined together. It’s delicate work, which requires the skills of sewers and finishers. Naturally, I have managed to secure the services of the finest in Devonshire. Besides, Honiton is on the staging route to London. The Queen has instructed I take the finished lace to the palace myself,’ she added, as if that explained everything.

‘How long will I be away from Bransbeer?’ Lily asked, an image of Tom flitting into her mind.

‘Three weeks; maybe nearer a month,’ her employer answered. ‘As I’ve said before, the Queen expects her commission to be fulfilled by St Catherine’s Day, which is the 25th of November, as you know.’

‘But if I’m in Honiton, who will oversee the ladies back at the workroom?’ Finally, she was able to ask the question that had been worrying her since they’d left Bransbeer.

‘As I said yesterday, the actual lace making is all but finished. When I decided I’d be travelling to Honiton today, I paid them their money and sent them home,’ Mrs Bodney replied.

‘What? Even Mary?’ Lily asked with a pang.

‘Mary is staying to look after things at my cottage in my absence,’ Mrs Bodney said, smiling. ‘That’s enough talking for now. We need to get as much rest as we can manage in this rattling contraption, for we shall be exceedingly busy over the next few weeks.’ And with that, her employer settled back on the squabs, pulled her cover over her, and closed her eyes.

As the carriage trundled its way through the Devonshire lanes, Lily pondered on all Mrs Bodney had told her. Mary still had a job and she herself had work for a few more weeks yet. Although her employer hadn’t said, this job in Honiton must surely include board and lodging for they couldn’t possibly travel all this way each day. She looked at Mrs Bodney, who was now dead to the world, and smiled. Not only was this carriage quite comfortable, it afforded them cover. She bet Mrs Bodney had never travelled in a donkey-cart, open to the elements. Of course, Rupert Mountsford’s carriage had been plusher than this one, although in some ways it did appear curiously similar. And it had that same Christmassy smell. She really must remember to ask Mrs Bodney about it when she woke.

How much further was this Honiton, she wondered, shading her eyes from the midday sun as she peered out of the window. The passing countryside had the mellow air of autumn, despite the breeze blowing the coppery leaves from the trees. She sighed, remembering how she and Tom had always caught one to wish upon. Last year, when she’d failed to catch a leaf of her own, he’d pretended to pluck one from her hair, insisting she’d caught it fair and square. She saw that the hedgerows were still groaning under the weight of luscious purple berries. Back in Coombe, they’d all have been picked and turned into pies and jellies by now. She wondered if Tom’s mother had baked him his favourite bramble cobbler. The thought made her mouth water.

It had been wonderful seeing Tom again, especially as he’d been like the old Tom she loved. How she wished she’d had the opportunity to tell him she was going away. Round and round her thoughts spun, like the wheels on the carriage, so that by the time they stopped to change the horses, she felt quite worn out.

‘Come along, Lily, time for our break,’ her employer chirped, refreshed from her snooze. The driver opened the door, looking warily at Mrs Bodney. But she smiled and thanked him so profusely he stood there shaking his head, unable to comprehend the change in her demeanour. Then, shrugging, he turned away to attend to the horses.

This hostelry was situated on the outskirts of a town and looked smarter than the one they’d stopped at earlier. They were shown into another private room, where they sat in comfortable chairs by a roaring fire. As they tucked into plates of cold meats, bread and pickles, followed by cake and hot sweet tea, Lily felt quite happy.

‘I could get used to living like this,’ she said, sighing contentedly as she sat back feeling replete.

‘Well, you had a taste of it at the Harvest Supper,’ Mrs Bodney pointed out.

‘Yes,’ Lily said, shuddering at the thought. ‘And I’d sooner be poor and principled than rich and rootless with my affections,’ she said firmly.

‘Bravo; well said, young Lily. I rather think you will go far in this life. Now we’d best be on our way.’

‘This Honiton is certainly some distance from Bransbeer, isn’t it?’ Lily moaned, for she was comfortable and would have preferred to remain by the fire.

‘Regrettably, owing to the valuable merchandise we are carrying, the driver wouldn’t risk travelling across open country. It’s tiresome having to travel the longer route, but safety is paramount. Thank heavens Rupert honoured his promise to loan me one of his carriages or we would be travelling by stagecoach,’ she said, her expression indicating she couldn’t imagine anything more awful. Suddenly Lily understood why the carriage seemed familiar and why it had the same smell.

‘May I ask you something, Mrs Bodney?’ she asked. The woman nodded. ‘I’ve noticed this strange smell in Mr Mountsford’s carriages that I can’t quite place. Do you know what it could be?’

‘I think it might be the spices that Mr Mountsford transports back to London. Now come along, we must be on our way,’ Mrs Bodney answered, jumping to her feet and heading for the door. Surprised at the other woman’s abrupt departure, Lily followed after her.

They returned to the carriage and settled back against the squabs. With her employer soon asleep, Lily spent the rest of the journey pondering on their earlier exchange. Mrs Bodney had been distinctly uncomfortable when Lily had questioned her about the strange smell. In fact, she’d had the same look as when Lily mentioned the packets Mr Mountsford left for her on his visits. She couldn’t help feeling it was somehow connected with the activities on the beach that old Joe had mentioned.

Dusk was descending by the time they arrived in Honiton, but Lily was hardly aware of her surroundings for as soon as the carriage door was opened, a strong gust of wind threatened to blow her off her feet. Revived from her rest, Mrs Bodney ushered her up the steps of a large town house, ringing the bell impatiently. The door was quickly opened by a grey-haired woman with thin lips, who stared at Lily suspiciously.

‘Maria?’ Mrs Bodney said, frowning. ‘I’m surprised to see you answering the door.’

‘I was just passing by when I heard the bell. Thought it sounded urgent, the way it kept ringing,’ she said pointedly. ‘You’d best come in,’ she added, somewhat grudgingly, before disappearing up the stairs. As Lily stood in the hallway glancing around, a stout, homely-looking woman bustled through to greet them.

‘Mrs Bodney, welcome. I trust your journey was not too arduous.’

‘Good evening, Mrs Staple,’ her employer replied. ‘It has been a most taxing time but we must bear these inconveniences for our Queen, mustn’t we?’

Lily stared at Mrs Bodney in amazement. Taxing time? Why, they’d stopped at two coaching houses, been well looked after and eaten two splendid meals. How difficult was that? Noticing her expression, Mrs Bodney snapped her fingers.

‘Don’t just stand there gawping, girl. The driver will see to our things.’

Mrs Staple turned and smiled kindly at Lily, then turned back to Mrs Bodney.

‘I’ve a nice bit of stew simmering, if you’re hungry.’

‘Thank you, no. We have already eaten and are ready to retire for the night,’ Mrs Bodney replied briskly.

‘Well, your rooms are ready so I’ll show you where to go,’ Mrs Staple said affably, and before Lily could blink, she was being led up a narrow staircase and shown into a bedroom. Glancing around, she saw it was smaller than the one she’d had at Picky Pike’s, but clean and tidy. To her delight, it also had a washstand in the corner.

‘Right, Lily, I think this will do fine for you,’ said the housekeeper. ‘Once your bag has been brought up, I suggest you get some sleep. I know it’s early but there’s much to be done in the morning.’ And with that she bustled from the room.

Thankfully, Lily sank onto the bed and closed her eyes. She wished the room would stop swaying. Why, she felt as if she’d travelled halfway round the world today. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs and the murmur of voices as they passed her room.

‘It wasn’t fair on Margaret, though.’

‘I know, but there’s little we can do. This other one’s better at the job, I was told.’

‘She’s a right country bumpkin, by all accounts, so I’m having as little to do with her as possible.’ The voices drifted off down the landing and Lily couldn’t help feeling sorry for this poor country bumpkin, whoever she was.

Waking the next morning in the narrow little bed, Lily took a few moments to remember where she was. Gingerly she sat up, relieved to find the room was no longer swaying. Then hearing the sound of people going about their business, she jumped out of bed and splashed her face with water from the ewer on the washstand. She’d only just finished dressing and was smoothing down her apron, when there was a brisk knock on the door. Before she could answer, Mrs Bodney entered the room.

‘Come along, Lily, Mrs Staple’s serving porridge. Apparently, everyone here eats together, so it will be a good opportunity to introduce you to the others.’ Then before Lily could answer, she disappeared down the stairs, leaving Lily to follow her.

‘Morning, Mrs Bodney,’ trilled Mrs Staple. ‘Did you sleep all right, dearie?’ she asked turning to Lily, who nodded happily.

‘Morning, Mrs Staple,’ Mrs Bodney replied. Then to Lily’s surprise she announced to the room in general, ‘This is Lily, one of the finest lace makers in Devonshire.’

‘Well done, dearie,’ the housekeeper answered. ‘Now you sit yourselves down and I’ll get serving.’

Lily smiled as she sat down next to Maria, the sour-faced woman who had opened the door the previous evening. But her smile was met with a glacial glare. Shaken, she then noticed half a dozen other ladies eyeing her curiously.

‘Morning, everybody,’ she said brightly, but their bowls suddenly seemed to be of greater interest as they busied themselves with their breakfast. Silence hung heavily in the room but Mrs Bodney wasn’t having that.

‘Right, let’s enjoy our meal and then I’ll introduce you all to Lily,’ she said briskly. This was still met with silence but, to Lily’s amazement, her employer winked at her. Thankfully, it seemed Mrs Bodney was in charge here as well.

Lily’s relief was short-lived, though, for no sooner had they finished than Mrs Staple reappeared saying, ‘Mrs Bodney, there’s a visitor to see you.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Staple,’ she answered, getting to her feet. ‘Right, everyone, as I said earlier, this is Lily, my overseer from Bransbeer. Whilst I attend to my guest, I’d like you to introduce yourselves and make her feel welcome. We will begin work as soon as I return.’

As soon as the door shut behind her, Maria turned to Lily and glared.

‘Boss’s pet,’ she snarled. ‘You’re naught but a lace maker. We sewers and finishers are highly skilled and we look after our own. You mark my words, we’ll see you gone before the day’s out.’

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table and Lily’s heart sank. Their belligerent faces said everything. Well, she hadn’t asked to come here and she certainly wasn’t going to stay where she wasn’t wanted. She’d pack her things and return to Bransbeer on the first staging. Naught but a lace maker indeed!