Alicia Page 7

  “You certainly seemed to be enjoying it,” he commented.

  “I was,” she replied, then caught the gleam in his eye and added, “and I still am.”

  They rode off, Lord Stronbert and Alicia in the lead, Felicia and the children close behind. Alicia could hear her daughter chattering with them about the town and about the shop and about the Grange with its marvelous rides. “My mother said your daughter was a beauty. She did not understate the case,” Stronbert remarked indolently.

  “Thank you.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “You must have been wed from the cradle.”

  “Very nearly,” she replied tartly.

  “Oh, dear, now I have said something personal again.” His contrite countenance and bowed head were belied by the twitch of his mouth. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Not when you do not wish to be,” she said, her voice mournful.

  Stronbert regarded her closely and a note of concern crept into his speech. “I did not intend to...” This time he did not miss the laughter lurking in her eyes. “It could be frightfully difficult to carry on a conversation with you,” he said ruefully.

  But Alicia had recollected that this was a stranger, a thing which she had somehow momentarily forgotten. He was a marquis and she a shopkeeper and she could hardly carry on a bantering conversation with him such as she might have with the men in the neighborhood of the Grange. She had not done much of that, either, after she had met Mr. Tackar. Men had begun to seem very dangerous game to her. “Mr. Allerton mentioned to me yesterday that there are several standing orders from the Court. They appeared to be from a bewildering variety of people. Do you suppose they would wish them continued under my management?” she asked a trifle stiffly.

  “What sort of orders?” he inquired curiously.

  “The dowager marchioness has required a half dozen linens every three months, but Mr. Allerton says they are usually sent back anyhow.”

  Stronbert could not tell this time if she was mocking him. He waited for her to continue. “A Miss Agatha Cummings has the shop send a new parasol each month, whatever is just arrived.”

  “Good Lord. I wondered where they all came from,” he muttered.

  She ignored him and continued, “A Miss Carson has us order chalk and notebooks regularly. A general Granat has a standing order for military hairbrushes every four months. A...”

  “Please spare me,” he begged. “I am sure there will be no change in the standing orders.”

  “As you wish. You might just mention to these people about the change in ownership, and they could let me know if they wish any alteration to be made.”

  “I said there would be no change.” There was an undeniable firmness about his voice.

  “I beg your pardon. I did not mean to contradict you.” Alicia felt and sounded mortified.

  Stronbert gave an exasperated sigh. “You will find, Lady Coombs, if you have not already, that the charges for all those at the Court are sent to me for payment. Therefore I am in a position to assure you that there need be no change. I did not mean to snap at you.”

  Alicia kept her eyes straight forward and she spoke hesitantly, “Except the dowager marchioness’s.”

  Stronbert swung around in his saddle and said sharply, “My mother is billed separately? Why?”

  “Presumably because she requested it so.”

  Stronbert’s lips became a firm line. “And is she current with her charges?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Just how uncurrent is she, Lady Coombs?”

  “I cannot be exact, my lord, but I should say that she has not paid for her purchases in the last year and a half. The total she owes Mr. Dean must be upwards of five hundred pounds.”

  “Dear God! I will speak with her this afternoon and the matter will be settled tomorrow to your satisfaction, Lady Coombs.”

  “They are Mr. Dean’s charges, Lord Stronbert. I think he had intended to write them off. The shop does not pass into my hands for another two days.”

  “Nonetheless, I should have been advised,” he said grimly. “I wonder if there are others in Tetterton with the same problem.”

  “I should think it likely, sir, from things Mr. Dean has let drop.”

  Stronbert cast his eyes heavenward. “I do not look forward to my interview with my mother. I hope you will convey my apologies to Mr. Dean and assure him of my ignorance of the situation. I cannot imagine why he did not advise me.”

  “Can you not?”

  He regarded her quizzingly and remarked, “You did not hesitate.”

  “Well, I cannot like to see him suffer. He is ill and holds the country gentry in great deference.”

  Stronbert gave a choke of laughter. “Well, I am sure the gentry will not pose the same problem for you.”

  “It will pose an even greater problem for me,” Alicia responded quietly.

  “Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “I can see that it might.”

  They rode on in silence for a while, the sound of laughter and happy chatter behind them. As they neared the Feather and Flask, Lord Stronbert commented, “Your daughter seems to have a way with youngsters. My children are not usually so at ease with a stranger.”

  “Many of Felicia’s friends at the Grange had younger brothers and sisters, so she is used to the company of younger children.”

  “I have a niece and nephew staying at the court for a few months while their mother recovers from a bad bout of influenza. Perhaps Miss Coombs would care to call on them.”

  “That is kind of you, Lord Stronbert. I will mention it to Felicia.” Her voice held little promise of an acceptance of his offer.

  “You do not intend to keep the girl away from her own kind, do you, Lady Coombs?” he asked coldly.

  “What have I to do with it?” she asked angrily. “Soon enough she will have to accept it. Not that she does not understand. We have discussed the problems and Felicia has been most forbearing.”

  “Nonsense. She is young and will need the companionship of others of her age.”

  “I am aware of that, Lord Stronbert,” Alicia retorted. “And I have no doubt she will find them. But not amongst the gentry, which will naturally reject her for her mother’s being in trade.”

  “I have invited her to the Court.”

  “Where your mother will no doubt accept her with open arms! And what will your wife have to say?”

  “My wife has been dead for two years, so I doubt she will have anything to say,” he replied with some heat.

  They were in the inn yard now, and Lord Stronbert had dismounted to assist her down. She could not bear to meet his flashing eyes, but he remained standing there with his hand outstretched. “I am so sorry. No one had mentioned that you were a widower. Please forgive my stupid tongue.” She raised sad, penitent eyes and the anger in his died.

  “How should you know? Come, I am waiting to assist you.”

  Alicia allowed him to lift her down, and then her daughter. There was a moment’s awkward silence before he turned to Alicia and said, “Perhaps we can expect Miss Coombs at the Court tomorrow for tea.”

  Felicia bowed her head to hide the eagerness in her eyes, but Alicia knew how she must be feeling. The girl asked diffidently, “Do you think that would be possible, Mama? Miss Helen mentioned that she has a cousin there but a year older than I.”

  Alicia was torn by conflicting emotions and surveyed Lord Stronbert’s languid countenance. There was something there which she could not define but which was firm and insistent that she accept. “Yes, my love, you may go to tea at the Court.”

  Stronbert turned to Felicia and said, “Fine. We will expect you at three then. I am sure my niece and nephew will be pleased to make your acquaintance. Lady Coombs, Miss Coombs.” He bowed to them, remounted, and rode off with his children.

  “How kind he was to invite me, Mama. Truly you do not mind if I go?” Felicia asked anxiously.

  “I don’t
know. I fear the dowager marchioness will not make things pleasant for you, my dear. And I would not have your hopes raised that others will accept you,” Alicia admitted.

  “I see. Did you know the children’s mother died some years ago?”

  “Unfortunately, I did not know and made a miserable faux pas just now. Lord Stronbert corrected me, and none too gently. But there, I did not deserve less. I must rush to the shop now. Poor Mr. Allerton has no doubt expected me this last hour. Did you plan to work on your new dress now?”

  “Yes, for a chill is coming on and I shall relish sitting by the fire. Or I could come with you,” she suggested impishly.

  “Go work on your dress, miss.”

  * * * *

  Together with Mr. Allerton and Mr. Dean Alicia spent the rest of the afternoon learning the organization of the shop and familiarizing herself with the books. She found that the dowager marchioness’s charges came much closer to six hundred pounds, and hoped that the marquis would discover the full extent of them before coming to settle the account. She did not inform Mr. Dean of her conversation with Lord Stronbert as she had no desire to upset him and his comments had led her to believe, as she had suspected, that he did not intend to press for payment of the account.

  * * * *

  Felicia had determined that she would finish the green dress in time to wear it to tea the following day. Since she had not begun, this required a supreme effort on her part and she set to work with a will. She was an expert needlewoman and knew exactly what she wanted, even without the latest edition of the fashion magazine before her.

  Within the hour she had cut the material and pinned it. She sent down for a pot of tea and worked steadily on the dress until her mother arrived after the shop closed. Alicia realized immediately what her daughter intended and after a hasty meal set out to assist her. When she left for the shop in the morning she knew that the dress would be ready in time, and that it was bound to be totally charming.

  Mid-morning brought Lord Stronbert, who greeted Alicia amiably and then closeted himself with Mr. Dean in the back office for half an hour. Alicia spent this time waiting on customers and setting out some goods which had arrived at dawn. When the two men re-emerged from the rear, Mr. Dean looked overwhelmed and Lord Stronbert grimly satisfied. Stronbert took Alicia aside, lifted a bolt of fabric to examine it and said, “I hope in future you will send my mother’s bills directly to me. You cannot imagine the state of chaos she showed me in her dun drawer. I shall be the rest of the morning settling her accounts. I appreciate your informing me of the situation.”

  “It was my pleasure, sir,” Alicia confessed with a grin.

  Stronbert waved an acknowledging hand indolently. “This fabric, what is it?”

  “A French brocade.”

  “Would it make into a reasonable mantua with a petticoat for my mother?”

  “Not reasonable in price, my lord, but,” Alicia considered it carefully, “it would become her, if the style chosen was suitable.”

  “Which does not seem to be one of her most dramatic achievements,” he said dryly. “How many yards would it take?”

  “That would depend on the style, of course, but I should think at least twenty-five to thirty.”

  “Good heaven. And what would that cost?”

  “Perhaps eighty, eight-five pounds.”

  “A bargain,” he commented negligently, a grin curving his wide mouth.

  “Does your mother use a particular seamstress?”

  “We appear to have one living at the court.”

  “Truly?” Alicia asked with some astonishment. “And she makes your mother’s clothes?”

  “I fear so.”

  “Then I would not use her if you wish to have the brocade made into a stylish gown,” Alicia commented, straight-faced.

  “She is a very biddable woman, as I recall,” he mused.

  “Then take the brocade to her and have Felicia speak with her when she comes to tea,” Alicia suggested.

  “Your daughter has not been invited to tea to consult on dressmaking,” he said with some annoyance.

  “Then you must find a solution of your own,” she responded impatiently. “Felicia would not mind in the least; in fact, she would thoroughly enjoy it, if I know my daughter.”

  “And perhaps I should pay her a fee for her services when she leaves,” he retorted.

  “No, I will bill you,” Alicia flashed, her eyes snapping.

  Stronbert threw up his hand in a gesture of defeat. “I do not wish to quarrel with you,” he said gravely. “Put the matter to Miss Coombs if you like and I will abide by her decision. In any case I will take the fabric.”

  “As you wish, my lord.” Alicia bowed her head in acquiescence and attempted to lift the enormous bolt of fabric. She was unable to do so and turned to beckon Mr. Allerton, but he was occupied with a customer. Lord Stronbert ignored her gesture of protest and carried the bolt to an empty counter. “How many yards would you like?”

  “I believe you mentioned thirty.”

  “At the most. I could give you twenty-five and set the material aside should you need additional.”

  “No, I think it best to have the thirty now.”

  Alicia did not look at him again but began to measure the material carefully, aware the while that his eyes were on her. She refused to lose count, but his continued gaze disconcerted her and she was hard pressed to keep her hands steady. Eventually she snipped the material and folded it carefully, then wrapped it into a parcel for him. “You will wish it put on your account, no doubt.”

  “Certainly. Lady Coombs?” He refused to speak further until she at length lifted her eyes to his. “I am persuaded you refine too much on this new role of shopkeeper. No, let me speak, if you please. You and your daughter are gently born no matter what mischance has placed you in your present situation. I assure you the Court is full of gentlefolk come on harder times. For all her outrageous behavior, you will find that my mother does not treat any of them as socially inferior. Some come determined to make themselves useful, like our seamstress, and where their pride dictates such a position, they are accommodated. But nightly we dine together—the governess, the tutor, the seamstress, the general, my mother. And I warrant it would be very dull without all of them, with their multitude of interests and personalities. Sometimes I tire of the stimulation,” he remarked ruefully, “but then I can always dine in my room, as they can.”

  “And do your neighbors accept all these impecunious relations as equals?” Alicia asked softly.

  “Some do, some do not. What difference can it make? They have a home where they are comfortable and where they are accepted. The neighbors have learned,” he said with a chuckle, “that if they snub members of my household, they are like to receive treatment in kind from my mother. My mother was not perverse with your daughter out of snobbery, but out of jealousy. Mother has always had a secret desire to dress to the nines, you know, but somehow she always muffs it. It was unbearable for her to see such a young woman, a girl, in fact, create so enchanting a confection before her very eyes.”

  “Then she will not like it if Felicia designs a gown for her.”

  “By your leave, and your daughter’s, I would rather she did not know. Though she may guess,” he said wryly. “However, my hope is that she will enjoy the gown enough that such a matter will not overly concern her.”

  “I pray you are right, sir.”

  Stronbert shrugged. “It is not even decided that Miss Coombs will wish to take part in my plot. I must finish my errands. Good day, Lady Coombs.”

  “Good day, Lord Stronbert.” Alicia handed him the parcel, careful not to touch him as she did so. He noted this with a mixture of amusement and perplexity, bowed, and was gone.

  When Alicia joined her daughter at the inn for luncheon Felicia had almost completed the green dress. Over a light meal Alicia explained the purchase of the French brocade and her suggestion that Felicia might advise the seamstress on the style of go
wn to be made for the dowager marchioness. “I did not mean to spoil your social call, but the brocade is really sumptuous, and I could not bear to think of the dowager having something hideous done with it! Lord Stronbert took exception to my suggestion but allowed that I might put it to you. I told him I would bill him for your services,” she remarked defiantly.

  “Oh, Mama, you should not be so stuffy with him! He seems a nice man, not the least top-lofty. But I should like to design something for his mother,” she confessed. “That orange striped gown is beyond anything. Do you suppose most of her clothes are so ridiculous?”

  “From what Lord Stronbert said, I have not the least doubt of it. And I should tell you, my love, that the Court appears to house a goodly number of impecunious relations which his lordship assures me are not treated to any snobbishness by the dowager marchioness. He was trying to tell me, I take it, that you would not be frowned upon there, for all your mother is become a shopkeeper.”

  “There, you see? He is a most accommodating gentleman.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps, but there is something about him which I think will brook no argument when his mind is set, all the same. No matter. I have no doubt you shall enjoy your afternoon. I will go back to the shop now, to make up for being away so long yesterday. You should have just enough time to finish your dress. You will hire a gig to take you, please.”

  “Of course, Mama. I have already spoken with Hodges.”

  Chapter Seven

  But there was no need to hire the gig when the time came. Lord Stronbert had spent more hours relieving his mother’s debt than he had expected. Because he also had called for his new carriage, he found himself unable to set out for the Court until shortly before three. He therefore thoughtfully called at the inn and offered to take Felicia up with him, assuring her that his nephew would welcome the opportunity to drive her back in his uncle’s new phaeton, as he was forever itching to get his hands on the ribbons. “You will not be alarmed by the height, will you?” he asked as he ushered his passenger to the carriage.

  Felicia regarded the splendid vehicle, which had two iron cranes with bends in them under which the front wheels could turn, making the vehicle more wieldy. The marquis’s crest was on the side of the black-painted body. “I have never seen anything like it,” she breathed with awe.