The Royal Lacemaker (27 page)

Then she remembered her grandmother, a
wise woman, telling her that it didn't do to dwell on the past. Her
grandmother! Her mother and her aunt were sisters so she must have been her real
grandmother, she thought, drawing some comfort from that fact.

She'd concentrate on the present,
for wasn't she lucky enough to have a good job with her own little room in the
attic? And an employer who seemed to care about her?

Hearing noises coming from the headland
known as The Hall, she shivered. Tom had told her that there were several rift caves
at the base, which smugglers used as temporary stores. Suddenly eager to be back in
the safety of the house, she hurried up the beach, fervently hoping she
wouldn't bump into any menacing men of the night.

Relieved to be back at Picky
Pike's without any unpleasant encounters, Lily let out the breath she'd
been holding. Remembering her hasty exit and the cup and saucer she'd sent
clattering to the floor, she hoped they weren't broken and the tea
hadn't stained the chair covers. She knew only too well that her employer set
great store by how things looked. But then her family hadn't been at all how
they'd looked, had they?

Peering through the open parlour door,
she saw the room had been restored to its pristine condition and breathed a sigh of
relief. As far as she could tell no damage had been done to the carpet or chair
covers.

‘There you are, Lily,'
exclaimed Mrs Bodney, looking up from the table in the corner, where she was writing
in the dreaded ledger. ‘Are you all right?' she asked, frowning when she
saw Lily was shivering. ‘I was beginning to worry about you.'

‘I'm still shocked and angry
that Father and Mother never told me the truth when I was growing up,' she
answered, feeling her stomach tighten into a knot.

‘My dear, if they'd promised
your aunt they would raise you as their own, then I don't suppose it was their
secret to share,' Mrs Bodney said.

Lily thought for a moment and then
nodded her understanding.

‘Well, I'm much better now
that Father's explained everything to me,' she said.

Her employer shot her an anxious look.
‘I do hope you're not feverish; you've had quite a shock.'
Skirts rustling, she got up and hurried from the room, reappearing moments later
with a small glass.

‘Drink this, child. It's
ginger wine and will help settle your system.'

Lily took a tentative
sip, grimaced then gasped as the amber liquid hit the back of her throat.

‘All of it, Lily,'
encouraged Mrs Bodney, as she made to place the glass on the table.

Knowing better than to disobey, Lily
took a deep breath, swallowing the rest down in one gulp. It brought tears to her
eyes but then she felt warmth flooding her body.

‘That's better. You've
got some colour back in your cheeks.'

‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney,' she
replied.

‘I've been thinking, Lily.
Your Aunt Elizabeth, as you know her, will have been wondering about your reaction
to her letter. It's a delicate secret to disclose, after all, and she was
obviously expecting to discuss it with you before she left.'

‘I'm not sure how I really
feel at the moment,' Lily said, frowning.

‘No, I'm sure it has come as
a considerable shock. However, when you have had time to get used to the idea, I
think we should pen a letter to her, between us,' Mrs Bodney said, leaning
over and patting her hand. ‘You could also let her know you've been to
see Beth and that she's well.'

‘You'd help me do that? Do
you have the time?' Lily asked, knowing her employer was a busy woman.

‘It's about
priorities,' she said. Seeing the puzzled look on Lily's face, she
added, ‘I mean, making time for the important things in life.'

‘Thank you, Mrs Bodney. Would you
be able to help me learn my letters too? It would make such a difference if I could
write.'

‘Yes, Lily, I
will. It will take time, though, so we will probably have to continue your lessons
after the commission for the Queen is completed. The clock is ticking and that must
take precedence. In the meantime, I suggest you keep this safe,' she said,
holding out the letter from Aunt Elizabeth.

‘Right, off you go or you'll
be of no use to me in the workroom, and I don't want the ladies taking
liberties.' Mrs Bodney's voice resumed its usual brusqueness as she
waved Lily away.

Up in her room, Lily's thoughts
were reeling so fast, she never for a moment thought she'd sleep.

This morning she'd woken not
giving the life she'd had as a child a second thought. Now, she'd
discovered it had been built on a lie. She wondered if Rob had known the truth.
Probably not, she thought, sighing into the darkness as she got undressed. As Mrs
Bodney had said, it hadn't been her parents' secret to disclose.

She lay in her little bed, thinking back
over the events of the day. How she wished she could discuss the letter with Tom.
She missed him so. Finally, she fell into an exhausted sleep only to dream she was a
little girl again. She was sitting beside her mother in the sunshine, learning how
to make lace. Mother was smiling and patient, no matter how many mistakes Lily made,
sharing in her jubilation when finally she'd mastered the craft. Her father
laughing as they strolled through the orchard, inspecting the crop, holding her high
above his head so she could pick the first ripe apple of the season. Aunt Elizabeth,
strict but kind, offering to stay in Coombe so that Lily could work for Mrs
Bodney.

Then the dream
changed. The sun no longer shone. It was her aunt teaching her to make lace, a
stranger who walked beside her in the orchard, but he was holding her hand too
tightly and smelled strongly of liquor. She was trying to escape but he turned and
brought his lips down on hers. It was the squire, his slug-like fingers trying to
paw her body.

She woke with a jolt, her heart pounding
like the waves in a storm. Peering around, she breathed a sigh of relief when she
realized she was safe in her bed. She sank back onto the pillow, closing her eyes
and willing her heart to calm. Once again, she wished Tom was here so that she could
discuss her aunt's revelation with him. Dearest Tom. She wondered how he was.
Was he thinking of her?

Come the Sabbath she would visit him at
his nana's house in Seaton, she decided. She was that impatient to see him,
she even toyed with the idea of missing church. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes.
She had work to do before she could even think of the Sabbath.

It was Saturday evening when, at Mrs
Bodney's gentle insistence, they sat down together at the table in the
parlour. True to her word about protecting their eyes, she'd insisted on
lighting a candle. In the flickering glow, Lily watched as her employer showed her
how to write the first two letters of the alphabet. But as Lily went to copy them
Mrs Bodney shook her head.

‘Not tonight, Lily. You can
practise them later but first we have to decide what you want the letter to your
aunt to say.'

‘I'm confused. Am I meant to
call her Mother or Aunt Elizabeth?' Lily asked.

The other
woman's brow furrowed. ‘I think you should decide what you feel most
comfortable with.'

‘Well, Mother was my mother and it
would be disrespectful to call Aunt Elizabeth that, somehow. She has always been my
aunt in my eyes.'

‘Then we shall begin with
“Dear Aunt Elizabeth”,' said Mrs Bodney, dipping her pen into the
ink. Lily watched as the words flowed onto the page.

‘Will I really be able to write
like that?' she asked in amazement.

Mrs Bodney stopped writing and, pen
poised, looked at Lily. ‘If you practise, there is no reason why you
shouldn't. Now listen, whilst I read this back to you.'

Dear Aunt Elizabeth,

I trust this letter finds you
well and you are settled in your new life in Ilminster. As you can imagine, your
letter came as a shock. I am still trying to take in the news that you are my
birth mother and await the opportunity of discussing this with you. In the
meantime I trust you will understand if I continue to address you as Aunt
Elizabeth for, of course, this is how I have always thought of you.

I have been to see Beth and she
is happy and well.

Please give my love to Rob.

With sincere affection, Lily
Rose

‘Does that say everything,
Lily?' Mrs Bodney asked, looking up from the letter.

‘Yes, thank you, although I will
feel better when I've spoken to my aunt. It's such a big thing to take
in.'

‘Yes, it is.
However, with time it's surprising what we can become used to, and I'm
sure they did what they thought would be best for you. Now, I shall seal this ready
to be dispatched with the next stagecoach.'

‘Thank you so much, Mrs Bodney. I
can't believe I will ever be able to write like you do.'

Her employer smiled, handing her the
precious piece of paper on which she'd written the letters.

‘You may borrow this pen and ink
for the time being. Take them up to your room but on no account must they get
anywhere near the workroom. Ink and lace would make sorry bedfellows. I'll
look out a slate and some slate pencils when I return to my cottage and then you can
practise regularly. When you have mastered these letters, we will go on to the
next.'

‘Are there many, then?' Lily
asked.

‘There are twenty-six letters to
the alphabet,' Mrs Bodney said, smiling as Lily's eyes widened in
disbelief. ‘Don't worry, as I said, all it takes is practice,' she
assured her. ‘Now that's quite enough for one night, so I'll bid
you good night.'

Lily all but skipped up the stairs. To
think she, Lily Rose, would soon be able to write her own letters. She
couldn't wait to tell Tom.

The Sabbath dawned and as Lily made her
way outside she noticed the autumn air was damp with chill mist rolling in from the
sea, spreading in ghostly ribbons throughout the hamlet. She pulled her shawl
tighter and hurried towards the church. At the last moment, her conscience
wouldn't allow her to miss morning service, but at
least by
attending the one here in Bransbeer, her journey to Seaton wouldn't take long.
As she walked down the aisle, two hazel eyes turned in her direction. Fighting down
the urge to turn tail and leave, Lily made her way to the pew furthest away from
where Squire and Lady Clinsden were sitting. Why were they worshipping here, she
wondered. Then the parson climbed into the pulpit and began his sermon. As his voice
droned on interminably, Lily couldn't help thinking back over the events of
the past few days. Then Lady Clinsden rose to read the lesson and Lily's
question about why they were attending the local church was answered. Fighting down
her growing impatience as the parson then beseeched them all to repent their sins,
she sighed. It was Tom's forgiveness she needed.

At last, the service ended and she
jumped up quickly, hoping to make a speedy exit but the press of people hindered her
progress. As she made her way outside, blinking in the sudden brightness, the squire
stepped in front of her.

‘We look forward to you serving at
our Harvest Supper next weekend, don't we, my dear?' he said, turning to
his wife.

‘We are indeed looking forward to
seeing you there,' Lady Clinsden replied, winking at Lily behind her
husband's back.

‘And I am looking forward to being
there,' Lily said sweetly, trying not to laugh at the squire's surprised
look. ‘If you'll excuse me, I am on my way to Seaton,' she
said.

Thankful for the comfort her new
hobnailed boots afforded, Lily made her way up Long Hill, on through
fields festooned with stooks of golden corn, until she reached
the common. Then, as she gained the outskirts of Seaton, the mist lifted as it often
did this time of year, and she could see the sea shimmering below her. It being the
Sabbath, there were no boats out fishing, and the outline of Portland Bill rose like
a whale's back in the distance. Catching sight of Seaton Hole below, where the
remains of the wrecked ship perched like a skeleton on the rocks, her heart lurched.
Hastily averting her eyes, she hurried on her way. Almost before she knew it, she
was standing outside old Mrs Westlake's cottage. But, as she raised her hand
to lift the knocker, the door flew open and Tom's mother stood there glaring
at her.

‘Hello, Mrs Westlake. I'd
like to see Tom,' she said, her voice trembling when she saw the hostile look
on the woman's face.

‘Wouldn't we all,' Mrs
Westlake snapped.

‘Isn't he here?' Lily
asked, her heart sinking.

‘And why would he be?' his
mother asked, folding her arms.

‘Bobby Fixit said he
was.'

‘Oh, he did, did he? Well,
that's right. He was,' Mrs Westlake growled, making to shut the
door.

‘Please, Mrs Westlake, I really
need to talk to him,' Lily begged.

‘Seems to me like you've
said enough already. Broke my boy's heart, you did, with your doubting ways.
It's 'cos of you he sold his boat. The family boat that his father
worked his fingers to the bone to pass onto him. Taken the money he got and
disappeared. I hope you're pleased with yourself, Lily Rose, you doubting
Thomasina, you.' With a final glare, she slammed the door
in Lily's face.

Shocked, Lily stood there for some
moments then realized she was being watched. Looking up, she saw a group of women
staring at her from across the lane. Clearly they'd heard what had been said
and were waiting to see what would happen next. Biting back tears of frustration,
she put her chin in the air and marched back down the road. Her heart might be
breaking but she had her pride.

It was only when she reached the common
that she slowed down. Perching on a tree stump and idly watching the scarlet poppies
swaying in the breeze, she thought of Tom. How could she make things right between
them now? Before long, she felt a prickle of awareness snake up her spine. Spinning
round, she stared towards the row of trees beyond. Tom was there, she knew he was.
She could feel it. Jumping to her feet, she cupped her hands to her mouth.