The Sweethearts Collection. Pam JenoffЧитать онлайн книгу.
you,’ she protested, a warm glow belying her words.
‘Be good while I’m away and I’ll treat you to as many rides as you want,’ he promised, his lips grazing hers. ‘I’ll meet you by the dobbies at 5pm,’ he grinned. Then, with a rueful grin, he turned and left.
‘Was that someone wanting me?’ her mamm asked, peering down the stairs.
‘No, Mamm,’ she replied truthfully. ‘I’m just about to take the bread out of the oven if you’re hungry,’ she added, hurrying over to the range. While the loaf was cooling, she folded the sheet of paper with her costings on and put it in the dresser. She would be sure to mark down every hour she worked and charge the Ferret accordingly.
What was the man up to, sending Kitto all the way to London? Important order or not, it seemed strange for a turner to be delivering finished items. And did he really need to visit the showrooms? Surely it would be more worthwhile for Kitto to spend his time turning the items to be exhibited there. The more she thought about it, the more she was certain Fenton had engineered the trip to get Kitto out of the way. The now-familiar stabbing at her chest only served to reinforce her suspicions.
Colenso and her mamm had just finished their late luncheon when a fierce pounding on the door startled them.
‘Who’s that?’ Caja squeaked, still jumpy after her earlier ordeal.
‘Soon find out,’ Colenso said, snatching up the poker and opening the door a crack. To her surprise, she saw Fenton’s driver standing on the step, and behind him a large carriage almost blocking the lane.
‘Afternoon,’ he greeted, tipping his hand to his cap. ‘Delivery for Miss Carne.’
‘But I wasn’t expecting it until midweek, and then I thought you’d be delivering it in the trap,’ she replied.
‘Well, I ain’t taking it back. Got sent to Falmouth last night so as to collect all this fabric first thing. It needed keeping dry, else there’s no way on this earth I’d risk bringing the carriage down these rutted tracks. Now, I’ll start fetching everything in, if that’s all right with you?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, opening the door wider. Incredulously, she watched as he carried bolts of rich burgundy velvet into the cottage. ‘I had no idea there would be so much,’ she gasped.
‘Ain’t finished yet, Miss,’ he puffed, throwing down another bundle and going back outside. As he began unloading yet more material and boxes, Colenso noticed neighbours had gathered outside and were speculating as to the meaning of the delivery.
‘Started up in competition to Miss Tucker, have yer?’ Mrs Buller called.
‘Won’t be happy if yer poaching her business,’ her companion added.
‘It’s nothing like that,’ she assured them, standing aside to let the driver pass with another box.
‘Think that’s it,’ he puffed, throwing it down on top of the rest.
‘Just as well,’ Colenso muttered, frowning at the bales and boxes that now took up their entire living room.
‘Oh yes, and there’s a note from Mr Fenton,’ he added, pulling a crumpled sheaf of papers from his pocket. ‘You’re to sign this copy for me to give back to him, confirming receipt of …’ he paused and squinted, ‘three bales of burgundy velvet, two of emerald green and one gold, plus two large boxes of fringing. The other copy is for you to keep, along with the measurements.’
‘But that’s six bolts of material,’ Colenso cried.
‘Well, if it’s for drapes, the ’ouse do have lots of windows,’ Dobson shrugged.
‘And you’ve to do the seat covers in the dining hall,’ Caja reminded her. And the bed coverings, she thought, shuddering at the idea.
‘Now, if you could just sign them papers, it’s been a long day.’ Quickly she did as he asked then closed the door behind him and stared helplessly at her mamm.
‘It’ll take weeks if not months to sew all this. How am I going to manage?’ she wailed.
‘More to the point, where are we going to store it before your father gets back?’ Caja replied. ‘He’ll go berserk if he sees all that cluttering his home.’
‘Well, it was you who offered Fenton my services,’ Colenso retorted. Then, seeing her mamm’s face crumple, she sighed. ‘I’ll put it on Tomas’s bed for now. Though goodness knows what’ll happen if he comes back.’
‘He won’t,’ Caja replied sadly. ‘He’s lodging over Ruan side, but don’t tell your father.’
✳
The next morning, Colenso waited until her father had left the cottage, then took one of the bolts downstairs, unfolded a length of red velvet and spread it across the table.
‘Oh Mamm, this velvet’s so thick, there’s no way my scissors will cut through it neatly,’ she frowned, running her hand over the plush pile. ‘I’ll call on Emily and see if she can help.’ Caja looked up from the pot she was cleaning.
‘I’ll probably be out when you return. Mrs Pascoe’s rheumatics are playing up again and I promised to drop by with some nettle unguent.’
‘That reminds me, I promised Emily some,’ Colenso said, throwing her shawl around her shoulders.
‘That’s all we’ve got. I’ll need to look out the receipt to make some more,’ Caja told her, taking the last two pots from the drawer and handing one over.
‘I’ll gather more nettles later,’ Colenso promised, eager to have an excuse to spend some time in the fresh air.
Outside, the wind almost blew Colenso off her feet. March was certainly roaring through like a lion, she thought, hurrying down the lane. She could hear the waves crashing onto the beach where the boats were drawn up. There’d be no fishing today, she thought making her way through the village to Emily’s cottage.
‘Oh, ’tis yer, is it?’ the woman snapped, giving her a gimlet stare through the half-opened door. ‘Surprised yer had the cheek to show yer face.’
‘I brought that unguent I promised you,’ Colenso told her.
‘Think that’ll salve yer conscience?’ the old woman glared. ‘Years it took Clara and me to build up our little business and now I hear yer doin’ yer best to steal it, right from under me own eyes.’
‘Oh no, Emily, you’ve got it all wrong,’ Colenso began, her hand going to her bonnet as another easterly gust threatened to send it flying.
‘Yer mean there weren’t no fine carriage unloading half a warehouse of plush velvet at yer door?’ Colenso shook her head as understanding dawned. The gossipers had been at it. ‘Well, were ther or weren’t ther?’ Emily persisted.
‘Yes, there was, but the material is for those drapes and covers Fenton wants making. I showed him your samples but he insisted on purchasing his own fabric from a merchant in Falmouth.’
‘Well, why didn’t yer say,’ the woman cried. ‘And why are yer standing ther letting all my warmth out?’ she asked, stepping back so Colenso could enter.
‘Hi, Colenso,’ a cheery voice greeted her from the front room, where a fire was glowing in the grate.
‘Alys, what are you doing here?’ she cried delightedly. ‘Don’t suppose you’ve heard from Kitto?’
‘No, but we don’t expect to, this is his big chance so he’ll be busy, won’t he? Anyhow, London’s like another country, isn’t it? I’m helping Auntie Em ’til I start at the manor,’ Kitto’s sister replied, holding up a length of material. ‘Isn’t it exciting?’