Farringdon's Fortune, page 4
Jane stared down at her notebook where she’d been surreptitiously jotting down the cost of each item. Never had she taken so much in one transaction, and that was without pricing the fabric and making up the gown and corset.
‘Which Papa will be happy to pay,’ Louisa said, misinterpreting Jane’s expression. She smiled, yet her delight at being able to purchase more supplies was overshadowed by the thought of sewing the special silk. Victoria’s dress was going to take nearly all that was in the parcel, which meant she was going to have to be inventive with the train. And it all had to be done in a few days.
‘I can’t thank you enough for your help, Jane. If you can have these items wrapped, I will send Quick back later to collect them. And your invoice too, of course,’ she added, lowering her voice and staring knowingly.
‘I can’t wait until Thursday,’ Victoria told her excitedly.
By the time the happy group left, with Ida Somers promising to return to help the next day, Jane was exhausted.
‘Do I have any fittings other than Mrs Tattersall-Smythe booked in for this afternoon?’ she asked Mouse.
‘Yes, Lady Cotterill at three thirty,’ the girl replied, consulting the appointments diary. ‘Miss Frobisher is booked in on Friday, but I can send her a note if that would help,’ the girl replied, sensing Jane’s agitation.
‘That wouldn’t be professional and if word got round, it could ruin my reputation, for my business is still as a corsetiere. This gown is a special commission, and I will just have to work into the nights and over the weekend to get it finished,’ she added, ignoring the girl’s incredulous look. ‘Now, this shop is looking decidedly untidy; I’ll get Millie to pack the purchases ready for collection while you tidy up before Mrs Tattersall-Smythe arrives. You’d better restock the window as well. Customers can’t buy what they can’t see,’ she added, gesturing towards the depleted display. ‘I’ll be upstairs in the workroom finishing her corset should you need me.’
‘Here, that was a good morning’s work,’ Millie cried, almost colliding with Jane in the hallway.
‘It was,’ she agreed. ‘However, you really must learn to curb your tongue in front of clients, Millie. Fancy suggesting a sewing machine would make all the difference.’
‘Well, it would,’ replied the maid, unrepentant as ever.
‘I know, but it simply isn’t done to mention these things. We’re tradespeople, remember?’
‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Millie sniffed. ‘They’d have no fancy things to wear if it weren’t for the likes of us. Want me to check them numbers?’ she asked, nodding at the list Jane was clutching.
The girl might be irrepressible but there was no denying she had a good head for figures, Jane thought, as she hurried up to the workroom. Unable to bear the sight of the silk shimmering in the sunshine, she rewrapped it and placed it back on the shelf. Forcing herself to concentrate, she settled back to her work, and, if her thoughts strayed as her needle completed the finishing touches, she pushed them firmly away again.
It was early evening and, having checked downstairs was tidy, Jane was about to lock the door when it flew open, sending the little bell ringing furiously.
‘My sincere apologies for arriving at this late hour, Miss Haydon.’
‘Lord Farringdon?’ she exclaimed, staring at the smartly dressed man in surprise. ‘I was expecting your coachman.’
‘And Quick is here now,’ Lord Farringdon stated, as the man, now in smart blue livery, staggered in behind him, his face hidden behind the bulky object he was carrying. ‘Perhaps you could direct him to your workroom?’
‘My workroom?’ Jane stuttered. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I thinks I might,’ Millie chirped, appearing in the doorway. ‘Here, let me help,’ she offered, hurrying to help Quick manoeuvre the cumbersome article. ‘Yous working late an’ all then?’
‘Seems we all have extra duties to perform this week,’ the man replied somewhat breathlessly.
‘Forgive the intrusion, Miss Haydon,’ Lord Farringdon smiled apologetically. ‘Louisa and Victoria came to see me the moment they arrived home. Although delighted you’d agreed to make Victoria’s debut gown, they are concerned being without a sewing machine would hinder your progress. Knowing time is of the essence…’ he gestured to Quick’s departing back.
‘I’m pleased to be of service to your daughter, my Lord, but I cannot accept charity.’
‘I would prefer you thought it a gesture of goodwill, Miss Haydon,’ he replied, respect flashing in his eyes. ‘As a person who deals in business myself, I know only too well the pressures deadlines can bring and, if something or someone can assist, then surely that is the way forward.’
‘Well, if you put it like that…’ Jane wavered.
‘I do. My daughter’s happiness means everything.’ There was an awkward pause as he stood staring at her. He cleared his throat.
‘How are you keeping, Miss Haydon? Things can’t have been easy for you since… well, that terrible accident,’ he murmured, his voice sympathetic as he studied her face.
‘No, Lord Farringdon, they haven’t,’ she admitted. ‘But life has to go on, doesn’t it?’
‘It does,’ he agreed solemnly, his expression telling Jane that he really did understand.
There was the sound of heavy footsteps as Quick reappeared, this time his arms filled with all the wrapped purchases.
‘I’ll bid you good evening, Miss Haydon, and my apologies once again for taking up so much of your valuable time.’
‘Good evening, Lord Farringdon. Thank you for the loan of the sewing machine. I will see it is returned when Victoria’s dress is finished.’
Surprise flashed in his eyes, then he shrugged.
‘As you wish, Miss Haydon.’
‘Well, that was a stupid thing to say,’ Millie squeaked, as the bell tinkled behind him. ‘He’s only gone and bought the latest machine. The one that does that fancy stitching yous been on about.’
‘I have my pride, Millie,’ Jane said.
‘And that helps pay the bills, I suppose?’ the maid scoffed.
‘I’ll be up in the workroom,’ Jane replied. ‘Which will help pay the bills,’ she retorted. It wasn’t fair to take it out on Millie, she knew, but mention of Sam had unsettled her again, and she needed to be by herself.
Ignoring the gleaming machine set on its own little table, she hurried over to the shelf and took down the parcel of precious silk. Unwrapping it for the second time that day, she could contain her grief no longer and hot tears ran like rivers down her cheeks.
Chapter 5
Edwin stared out of the carriage window but all he could see were those sad, sapphire eyes. Before he knew it, they were sweeping up the driveway flanked by the burgeoning lime trees towards the gates of Nettlecombe, its archway and pillars topped with stone griffins that were purported to protect the Farringdon family. Then he caught sight of the fence now surrounding the well in the far field and shifted restlessly in his seat. Unbidden, memories of the tragic accident that had befallen Miss Haydon’s betrothed, Sam Gill, came flooding back. Such a waste and he knew only too well the acute pain that loss of a life cut short inflicted. He sighed, thinking it a blessing she had her business to focus on.
Remembering her indignant look as she declared she didn’t accept charity, he shook his head. Judging from her depleted stock, it was evident the young woman needed assistance and returning the sewing machine when she’d finished making Victoria’s dress, a service she’d agreed to fit in alongside her existing work, was not good business practice. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of responsibility for the circumstances she found herself in and would insist she keep the machine he’d called in favours to acquire so quickly.
Bathed in the rosy glow of the setting sun, the Jacobean manor house looked inviting and welcoming. As Quick pulled to a halt and the imposing entrance door opened to receive him, the thought of a relaxing evening with a glass of cognac had never felt more appealing. However, as he stepped down from the carriage, his estate manager hurried towards him.
‘May I have a word, my Lord?’ he asked, looking uneasy as he took the clay pipe from his mouth.
‘Of course, Wilfred. Come inside.’
‘No, I won’t, if you don’t mind. Don’t like to leave Edith too long by herself. She still gets agitated and that’s why… why I need to give you notice to find someone new to run your estate.’
‘Are you sure?’ Edwin frowned. ‘I mean if it’s a question of money—’ he began, realizing that they were now having to manage without his son’s wage.
‘No, it’s not that,’ Wilf replied quickly. ‘You’ve been more than generous. It’s the wife, she can’t bear to look out on… well, where Sam died. And I goes around thinking he’ll appear at any moment.’ He stopped and sighed. ‘We thought we’d see if we can find somewhere near our daughter, Mary. She’s with child and it’ll give Edith something positive to focus on.’
‘Yes, I understand. Although, I shall be sad to lose such a competent manager.’
‘Well, I’m getting on now and, of course, Sam were going to take over. Besides, me joints is seizing up after that fall. Been a bad year all round.’ He gave another sigh, his lips quivering. Abruptly he jammed his pipe back into his mouth.
‘Perhaps a new start would be a good idea. Mary is living on the outskirts of Combe, is she not?’ Edwin asked. Wilf nodded and he continued. ‘I’ll see that a dwelling near to her is made available—’
‘I’ll not have a salary for…’ Wilf interrupted, waving away the whisps of smoke that rose on the evening air between them.
‘Rent free for the sterling service you’ve both given the Farringdons over the years,’ Edwin finished. ‘As I said, I will be deeply sorry to lose you, but leave it with me and I’ll speak with you tomorrow about arrangements. Shall we say five o’clock in my office?’
‘Thank you, my Lord.’ He gave a weak smile and made his way back towards the stone cottage that had been his home since he and Edith married.
It was late by the time Edwin, glass in hand, finally settled himself into his easy chair beside the fire in his office. The younger girls would have been put to bed hours since and, as the house was quiet, clearly the older ones were otherwise engaged. He’d have a supper tray sent in later.
What a day, he thought. First the discovery of Charlotte’s preposterous spending and then her bombshell that Victoria was expected in London for her debut earlier than anticipated. Despite the woman trying to cause trouble, arrangements for Victoria’s new gown and accoutrements were now in hand and he had sent word to his housekeeper in Grosvenor Square, informing her of their imminent arrival. As the date for the presentation coincided with Bea’s interview, they could all travel together. Despite his misgivings, she was adamant she wished to become a nurse and had countered every objection he’d raised until, finally, he had promised to write to his old friend, Professor Todd. Her determination and stubborn streak were certainly inherited from her late mother, who’d instilled the idea in her daughters that, despite being female, they could do anything they set their mind to.
His monthly inspection of the quarry to discuss any problems with its manager Wakeley was arranged, but now he also needed to find a new estate manager. Loyal and hardworking, Wilf would be difficult to replace. Edwin couldn’t imagine him doing nothing though. Perhaps he could find him some other role on the estate. Clearly life at Nettlecombe was about to change.
The first rays of early morning sun were filtering through the workroom window when Jane woke with a start. Heavens, she’d fallen asleep at her worktable, she realized, staring anxiously down in case she’d ruined the delicate silk. Luckily, she’d been resting on the cotton it was encased in and it hadn’t been marked. However, snippets of her strange dream haunted her. The clacking of looms, foreign voices singing, Madame smiling and reaching out her hands. Clearly her nerves had made her overwrought, she thought, shaking her head to clear it. Only then did she realize she was still clutching the precious bobbin Sam had carved for her. A cherished gift she would keep for ever.
Stretching to ease her aching back, she gasped when she saw the monstrous shape looming before her. It took a few seconds before she realized it wasn’t a gigantic eye staring at her but the wheel of the sewing machine. Rising stiffly to her feet, she went over to inspect it properly.
The arm, needle and plate were mounted on top of a polished wooden table, and it was obviously worked by operating the foot pedal. Seeing the thickness of the needle, she sighed. Despite Lord Farringdon’s kindness and the urgency of the situation, there was no way she could risk using that on the delicate silk. How she wished Millie had kept her mouth shut.
Whilst Madame had taught her basic dressmaking skills when she was her apprentice, and she made her own clothes, Jane had never attempted anything as momentous as a debut gown before. Although simple in design she would need to sketch the pattern to the measurements she’d taken. There would barely be enough of the special silk, which wouldn’t be easy to work anyway, so there was absolutely no margin for error. It was imperative she got it right first time. At least Ida Somers was coming to help later. Being an experienced dressmaker, the woman would know exactly what to do.
Despite her misgivings, she couldn’t resist reaching out and running her finger over the soft fabric, tracing the delicate golden thread that ran through it. As the vision of a young man with loving hazel eyes and mischievous smile swam before her, she blinked back the seemingly ever-present tears. Sighing for what would never now be, she hurried through to the bedroom to wash and change into her dark skirt and pink satin blouse.
‘Ooh, that Quick be a fine fellow,’ Ida Somers exclaimed, sending the little bell tinkling as she burst through the door a couple of hours later. Her cheeks were as rosy as the cherries that bobbed on her bonnet.
‘Did you travel in Lord Farringdon’s carriage?’ Jane asked, staring at the woman in surprise as the sound of hooves receded.
‘No, his cart. The ladies ride in it when they’re working with the Quarry Crafters. Don’t want to offend them by using the plush carriage. Anyhow, after Quick dropped them off he were told to bring me here. I’m to help yer each day until Victoria’s dress is made. Suits me fine ’cos, like I said, that Quick’s quite a man. Shy though; when I said how nice it was, us riding together, he didn’t reply.’ She shook her head, setting the cherries bobbing wildly again. ‘Still, males can be a bit slow on the uptake and yer has to put the notion of romance in their heads, don’t yer?’ she winked slyly.
‘It’s good of Louisa and Victoria to let you come here to help,’ Jane replied, as soon as she could get a word in.
‘They suggested yer might like to work up at the manor, but I didn’t think yer’d like that,’ Ida added quickly when she saw Jane’s horrified expression.
‘No, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate,’ Jane shuddered. Her little shop with bales of coloured fabric lining the shelves, glass-fronted counter topped with a vase of fragrant rose potpourri and the little pink chair for her clients had become her sanctuary. ‘Let’s go up to the workroom and make a start,’ she said, forcing her thoughts back to the present. ‘You’ll be all right, won’t you?’ she asked Mouse, who was tidying the rolls of ribbons in the drawer.
‘Yes, Miss Haydon.’ The girl’s eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.
Jane smiled, for there was no denying that Mouse reminded her of her younger self when she’d loved nothing better than being in charge of Madame’s magasin when she’d had a fitting. As she made her way up the stairs, it occurred to her that this title, whilst appropriate when the business had been in Exeter, wasn’t right for Salthaven. She would have to give it some thought.
However, there was no time for reflection, for on entering the workroom Ida gaped in astonishment.
‘Oh my… would yer look at that fearsome beast,’ she exclaimed, crossing the room for a closer look. ‘And it’s threaded up ready. Well, it might be the latest thing but yer still won’t get me using it.’ She glared down at the treadle and sniffed. ‘Whoever heard of stitching with yer feet.’
‘We’ve a lot to do before we even get to the sewing,’ Jane pointed out, wondering what the woman did intend doing to help.
‘I’da says, tidy mind, tidy work’, Ida Somers stated, nodding to the table where Jane had already laid out her tools.
At least they agreed on something, Jane thought. As was her way, the work box sat to her right and her sharpest shears, chalks, marking silks, paper, pins and measuring tape were all set in a line. Alongside the picture of the gown in The Ladies’ Companion lay the pattern she’d sketched out earlier. She’d also found some suitable ostrich feathers which, when trimmed and attached to a toning length of fabric, would make up the headdress. Finally, her gaze came to rest on the silk spread out ready for measuring and cutting. Its gossamer sheen looked quite ethereal today and a shiver shuddered down her spine. Come on, Jane, you can do this, she steeled herself.
‘That must have cost a pretty penny. Where did yer get it then?’ Ida Somers asked, her bird-like eyes staring candidly at Jane.
‘I found it hidden in the back of a cupboard when we were moving from Exeter. Madame was dead by then, so I had no way of knowing why it was there.’
‘Well, it’s the finest silk I’da ever seen. In fact, it would make a—’ she broke off her eyes widening in realization. ‘Oh, yer was going to use it for yer wedding dress, weren’t yer?’ she said. Unable to trust her voice, Jane nodded. ‘That’s a worthy thing you done offering it to Lady Victoria,’ the woman said, patting her hand. ‘And in Ida’s experience, good breeds good. Now, yer’ll want to make a start on the measuring and marking, so I’ll get on with that headdress.’
‘I thought we would be working on the dress together,’ Jane began but Ida had tucked one of the plumes behind the cherries on her bonnet and was dancing down the room. ‘I’da be goin’ to the ball,’ she chortled.
