The Sweethearts Collection. Pam JenoffЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘I’ve to visit his house again on Sunday to give my suggestion for new furnishings and draperies,’ she told him. Now it was his turn to frown.
‘Not sure I like that, Cali.’
‘Mamm’s coming too, but it still feels wrong. If only I’d stood up for myself more when he accused me of pilfering his bloomin’ marble,’ she cried.
‘Thinking about it, Fenton did tell me I owed him for using the works’ lathe to turn your bits for the tourists,’ Kitto muttered. As the impact of their situation struck, they stared at each other in the gathering gloom. Colenso felt closer to Kitto than ever before, but she was also filled with anguish, because what they’d both admitted defined the situation they were now facing.
‘I’m thinking we’ll either have to elope or see this thing through,’ Kitto said. Elope? Her heart soared at the prospect, only to plummet as practicality set in.
‘I’d love to run away with you but we don’t have any money,’ she sighed.
‘And if I leave Poltesco without my apprenticeship being signed off, I’ll have no prospect of earning any either,’ he said gloomily. ‘Then of course, there’s Mother, Alys and Wenna. They’d never be able to pay the rent without my money, and despite the men’s moans, the works pay the highest wages around,’ he groaned. Colenso nodded, for wasn’t Kitto’s sense of responsibility one of the things she loved about him? That didn’t stop her feeling as if the silken thread was growing ever tighter though.
✳
‘Mr Fenton is waiting for you in the parlour,’ Mrs Grim announced, her manner as hostile as it had previously been. Colenso nodded and, with the samples of fabric she had borrowed from Emily clutched tightly to her chest, followed the housekeeper down the hallway. Much to her parents’ chagrin, she’d insisted on wearing her usual Sunday gold blouse, her hair braided and coiled around her head. Now she felt more confident than she would dressed up to impress an old man. She was here to do a job and would both look and act like it.
‘Remember to act ladylike,’ Caja whispered, as if reading her mind. ‘Your father’s relying on you.’ Shouldn’t it be the daughter relying on her parent, Colenso wondered.
‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ Fenton smiled, turning from the window. ‘We’ll have tea in one hour exactly, please, Mrs Grim,’ he added. He waited until the door closed then stared at Colenso’s parcel. ‘I see you have given consideration to my furnishings, so take a seat and tell me your ideas.’
‘Our Colenso’s spoken of nothing else all week,’ Caja smiled as she settled herself happily on the faded couch. Colenso stared at her in surprise, for in truth she’d taken the swatches of material Emily had given her without even looking at them.
‘I’ve picked the most expensive and written the prices on the back. He can afford it and we can make som’at out of it,’ she’d chuckled.
Anything would be an improvement on the present drab drapes, Colenso thought, glancing at the faded ones at the window.
‘Good, good,’ Fenton smiled at her. ‘Spread everything out on the table and we’ll take a look.’ Slowly Colenso did as he suggested, disconcerted to find him still staring at her and not the samples.
‘Of course, you can only tell how they’ll look by holding them up,’ she said, snatching up a square of plush cranberry velvet and hurrying over to the window.
‘That looks perfect, my dear,’ Fenton nodded, following her and standing so close she again caught the strong smell of his lemon cologne. Remembering Emily’s suggestion, she began to hum a tune that Mammwynn used to sing to her. Startled, Fenton took a step back.
‘Perhaps you would bring the other samples through to the dining hall, Mrs Carne,’ he said quickly.
‘You have a dining hall?’ Caja cried, stressing the word hall. ‘And it’s Caja, Mr Fenton,’ she gushed, smiling sweetly as she followed them through to the next room. ‘Why, it’s huge,’ she gasped, staring at the long, polished table adorned with silver candelabra, the matching sideboard set with cut-glass decanters of various drinks.
‘This is where I entertain important guests and clients,’ Fenton replied, clearly pleased he’d impressed her. ‘I believe it is usual to have the chair seats matching the drapes but I’m sure, being an accomplished seamstress, you will find that quite an easy task, my dear,’ he said, smiling at Colenso. She did a quick count, ten standard chairs and two carvers. That would take some doing, surely. Her mamm nudged her side impatiently.
‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed, realizing he was waiting for her to respond.
‘That is why I need help selecting the correct fabric. Appearance counts for everything, as I’m sure you’ll agree.’ As he stood there, nose twitching like a ferret catching the scent of a rabbit, Colenso shuddered. ‘Of course, I will also be needing a good woman by my side, but I won’t be requiring any assistance in my choice there,’ he continued, staring meaningfully at Colenso. Feeling uncomfortable, she looked down at the fabric in her hand. Her one aim was to get out of here as quickly as possible. The question was how could she do it without appearing rude? Then inspiration struck.
‘As the rooms lead into each other, perhaps you should keep the colours the same,’ she said, again holding up the velvet sample.
‘My dear Colenso, that is a marvellous idea. Brains as well as beauty,’ he beamed, his fingers touching hers as he went to take it. ‘Such soft skin,’ he murmured, a gleam sparking in his eyes. Quickly she snatched her hand away and hurried over to the French doors. Holding up the swatch, she nodded.
‘If you agree, Mr Fenton, I think this will be the perfect choice. Now, if that’s all …’
‘Ah, but it isn’t, my dear. There are other rooms to consider.’ Beaming widely, he turned to Caja. ‘Would you do me the greatest of favours and return to the parlour ready to receive our afternoon tea?’ Colenso watched as her mamm blushed prettily.
‘Why, of course, Mr Fenton,’ she purred and head held high left the room.
‘Now, my dear, we will take these through here,’ he said, opening another door. As that gleam glinted in his eyes once more, Colenso felt a prickle of unease.
‘But I thought you were going to have the same fabric in all your rooms,’ she mumbled.
‘Not all of them, Colenso. Chambers require the personal touch, do they not?’ he murmured, waving his hand towards the covers adorning the huge, carved bed that dominated the room. Quickly, Colenso averted her eyes, but he moved closer, reaching out with his paw-like hands. Her feet were rooted to the spot but just when she felt she would faint, the necklace began stabbing at her chest. Summoning her strength, she dashed over to the window, snatched the tape from her neck and began measuring. As he stood watching, his lips curled into a lustful smirk, she once again began to hum. Immediately, his demeanour changed.
‘Forgive me for saying, but I do not think music is your forte, my dear,’ he said, stealing up behind her. Reaching out, he spun her round to face him, that gleam lighting up his eyes.
‘Come now, my dear, you surely know how I feel about you,’ he murmured. His breath was coming in heavy gasps as his hands began folding back her shawl. Colenso opened her mouth to scream but it was his voice that roared. ‘Why you …’ he cried, his hand going to his cheek where, to her surprise, she saw blood spurting. ‘That thing jabbed me,’ he accused, pointing to her front.
Staring down, Colenso saw the pentacle had somehow worked itself free from the neck of her blouse. Hurriedly, she pushed it back inside the material then knotted her shawl firmly around her shoulders. The Ferret watched her every movement, then taking his kerchief from his pocket carefully wiped his cheek.
‘Don’t worry, my dear, I like a bit of sport. The thrill of the chase and all that.’ His eyes alight with excitement, he took a step closer and Colenso moved back until she