Hope for Tomorrow (9 page)

“
I think that young man likes you,” Gus confided quietly as he took her arm and guided her outside to their carriage.

“
I do too,” she admitted sadly.

“
Then what's the problem?”

Martha had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she could never marry because she couldn't shame anyone she cared about with her past. Gus, it seemed, didn't mind that her reputation was ruined but she knew that very few people would agree with him.

“
Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said, reaching upon her toes to kiss his cheek. “You were right, I did fit in.”

She still felt like an imposter of course, but at least now she knew that she could act the part.

Chapter Nine

Lady Beaumont had actually been very taken with Miss Aldercott as she seemed very quiet and well mannered, and of course she was exceptionally pretty. She would make a very good match for Lucien.

She didn't usually like women in trade but she supposed that sketching wasn't really trade, the hard work was done by others. Plus her father was very rich, which would be good for the Marchwood estate.

Of course Lucien had refused to accompany them to the ball. He was such a headstrong young man!

She spoke to her husband over breakfast the next morning but as usual he just grunted in the right places; he wasn't actually listening to her.

“
I wonder if we might stop at Aldercott & Daughter before we leave today,” she said.

“
Mm?” came her husbands reply.

“
I would very much like a pair of gloves similar to the ones the Duchess wore. They were very pretty, didn't you think?”

“
Mm.” His newspaper rattled as he turned the page but his face remained hidden.

“
She was a lovely girl, don't you agree?”

“
Mm.”

“
Just the kind of woman who would suit Lucien.”

“
Mm.”

“
Perhaps I should visit alone, she would be much more likely to open up to another woman.”

“
Mm.”

“
Yes, I think that's what I'll do.” She got up from the table and went into her bedroom to find a coat. Her husband hadn't moved when she emerged a few moments later.

“
See you later, darling.”

“
Have fun,” he called after her.

Lady Beaumont had the doorman hail a hansom cab for her because the driver would surely know the location of the Aldercott shop. Unfortunately they arrived there to find that the shop was closed on Saturdays.

Well that was very vexing but perhaps it might be possible for Miss Aldercott to visit the estate so that she might order some gloves, and of course Lucien would be there and he could meet her at the same time.

She had thrown girl after girl into his path over the past few years and he reacted to each with extreme indifference but by God, she wasn't about to give up.

“
Back to the hotel,” she told the driver.

She would write to Mr Aldercott as soon as they got home and see if something could be organised.

“
God damn it man!” Lucien's voice could be heard even in the house. “How hard is it to saddle a horse!”

“
But he's lame, Sir,” Barry argued.

“
Well what's wrong with him?”

“
I think he did 'imself an injury during your ride yesterday, Sir. He needs complete rest for at least a week.”

“
Why didn't you tell the maid that?”

“
I did, Sir, but she obviously didn't pass the message on.”

Lucien turned away and headed out of the barn.

“
Wonder why,” Barry said under his breath but Lucien still heard. He turned back to the stable boy and advanced on him, backing him into a corner.

“
What did you say?” Lucien's crop whipped through the air and struck his own riding boot with a crack.

Barry cowered but then he remembered Anna the housemaid, shaking as she thought of telling Lucien that he couldn't ride his horse that day and he found his courage. He liked Anna a lot.

“
I said,
'I wonder why?'
Sir.”

Lucien wanted to strike him for his impertinence but instead he settled for striking his boot with his whip once again.

“
In future, keep your thoughts to yourself.” He turned away again but Barry stepped forward.

“
No, Sir.”

Lucien turned back but didn't advance again.

“
The way you yell and curse around 'ere, it's not right. Our Anna's a good girl, does exactly what she's told and Mrs Lassiter doesn't have a bad word to say about her, but she's still terrified o'you. It's not us you're angry with, is it, Sir?”

Lucien's jaw clenched and for a moment, Barry thought that he had gone too far but after a few moments Lucien simply turned and walked out of the barn. Barry sagged in relief.

It needed saying but Barry suddenly wished that he hadn't been the one to say it.

Master Lucien had never been what you might call friendly, he always had a stern and autocratic way about him but ever since Martha had run away, his temper had been a thousand times worse. He was like a bear with a sore head and the whole household was careful around him.

Everyone knew what had happened but they had never believed that he actually cared about the housemaid and they all thought that he would get over it and be thankful for a lucky escape but that never happened.

It was love, the servants had been forced to conclude and his heart was broken.

Of course understanding why he was so temperamental didn't make his outbursts any less frightening, especially to a young girl like Anna.

Barry headed into the house in search of her to tell her that he had told Lucien about his horse and to make sure that she was all right.

Lucien headed to Mrs Lassiter's sitting room. He was about to burst in as he usually did but for once he stopped and knocked.

“
Come in!”

He opened the door and noticed her surprise when she realised who was there.

“
It's not like you to knock,” she noted.

“
No.” He sat in the chair on the other side of her desk without waiting for an invitation.

“
Is there something that I can help you with?” she asked when he hadn't spoken for a while.

“
The housemaids are frightened of me.”

“
That's hardly news,” she answered, causing him to give her a sharp look.

He sighed after a moment, knowing that he couldn't dispute her words.

“
Have you...?”

“
Not since she sent me the three pounds back.”

“
She doesn't ever write?”

“
No, not since she worked at the mill. I dare say she thought that your barging in and losing her that job was related to the letters she sent me, so she's hardly going to write again, is she?”

“
What about a postmark on the envelope?” he asked.

Mrs Lassiter sighed and got the envelope and brief note out of her drawer and handed it to him. This was far from his first time of asking to see it.

He studied the envelope and note again, hoping to spot some clue that he'd missed previously.

“
What if she's ill or sick or...” he couldn't bring himself to finish that thought. “And what about the baby; is it a boy, a girl? Are they healthy?”

“
I wish I could tell you,” Mrs Lassiter said. “But I must tell you, you need to start reigning in your emotions, young man. I know it's hard but I think you have to accept that she's not coming back. It's time to move on.”

Lucien got up and began pacing the length of the sitting room. This was not the first time he'd heard those words but it was almost three years since their fight in the barn. His baby would have had its second birthday by now. At least he knew from her note to Mrs Lassiter than she had survived the birth.

He took the note out and read it once more.

Dear Mrs Lassiter,

Thank you so much for the money you loaned me, your kindness warms my heart. Please know that I am well and that for the moment, I am settled.

With love,

Martha

No mention of him at all. He would have preferred it if she had railed against him or cursed him, for ignoring him completely was unbearable. 

He collapsed back into the chair that he had so recently vacated.

“
Why don't you consider going away,” Mrs Lassiter suggested. “Perhaps after Christmas you could go and see some of your friends in Oxford.”

“
Maybe.”

Before, he had always refused that suggestion point blank. He felt as though if he left, he might miss Martha if she should return for some reason. This was progress, of a sort.

“
I'm sorry, Mrs Lassiter.” He got to his feet and headed to the door. He paused once he had opened it but didn't turn back. “I will try to be nicer to the housemaids in the future.”

“
Thank you, Master Lucien, I appreciate it.”

Since it was a cold day, Martha was sitting by the fire in the shop doing her sketching and strewn all over the coffee table were copies of The Illustrated London News. Mary was in the back getting tea for them both when Martha looked up as the bell over the door rang and she smiled to see Thomas Blackhall standing there.

“
Dr Blackhall,” she said, getting to her feet. “How lovely to see you again.”

“
And you, Miss Aldercott.”

“
What brings you to my little shop? I have to say you are a little more masculine than my usual clients.”

“
But you sell men's gloves, don't you?”

“
Indeed we do but in my experience, most men don't particularly enjoy shopping, it's usually their wives who purchase them as gifts.”

“
Well, that is exactly why I'm here.”

“
To buy your husband a gift?”

“
No indeed,” he laughed. “My sister and mother on the other hand, both require Christmas presents and they were very impressed with the Duchess's gloves.”

“
Take a seat,” she said sitting down and pointing to the chairs opposite her. She began to tidy up the newspapers.

“
You enjoy reading, then?” he teased.

“
I do but in this instance I was seeking inspiration for new designs.”

Just then Mary came through with the tea tray.

“
I'm sorry, Mary, perhaps we can share tea together once the shop is closed?”

“
Yes, ma'am,” Mary curtseyed to their guest, not quite sure how to behave around a male customer, then scurried back through to the kitchen.

“
She's a funny girl,” Thomas noted.

“
Just easily flustered,” Martha assured him. “Can I get you some tea?”

“
That would be lovely, thank you.”

She poured two cups then got down to business.

“
So do you know what you are looking for?” she asked.

“
I'm not sure what you mean?”

“
Well, would you like to purchase a pair of the fine gloves on display or were you looking for something a little more personal?”

“
More personal, I think.”

“
Then that is our bespoke service. Do you know the type of gloves they might want?”

“
Type?”

“
Day gloves, evening gloves, opera gloves, riding gloves.”

“
Probably evening gloves. Could you do something like the Duchess wore?”

“
We could do something similar but with our bespoke service, we only ever make each pair of gloves once. You will receive the original artwork with your order so that you can be certain that yours are unique.”

“
What a marvellous understanding of human nature that shows,” he smiled. “Unfortunately I don't know what to tell you. I don't really pay much attention to women's fashions.”

“
Completely understandable,” she said. She leaned forward and picked up her portfolio which she handed to him. “These are usually just for inspiration but if there is a pair or two that you like, we can have those made up for your mother and sister.”

He began looking through the sketches.

“
Do you know what colour outfit the gloves are for?” she asked.

“
Does that matter?” he looked slightly worried.

“
No but most ladies have the gloves made for a specific dress or event. In your case I would suggest you go for something in white as they can be worn with any colour outfit.”

“
Thank goodness you are here to help me,” he smiled warmly.

He continued to look through the sketches until he had found three that he liked, then finally chose his two favourites from those.

“
They're both very pretty,” she said. “I don't suppose you have given any thought to materials?”