Free The Royal Lacemaker by Linda Finlay Page B

nature of his business only too
     well.
    ‘Thank you, sir, but, as
     I’ve already told you, I am satisfied with my position here,’ she
     answered serenely. Now she knew how a swan felt: all calm on the surface while it
     paddled furiously under the water.
    The squire’s face turned redder
     still. Determined not to be browbeaten, Lily continued looking him straight in the
     eye.
    ‘Let me remind you that your
     family will be out on thestreet come the quarter-day. Do you want
     to see your brother and sister in the gutters of Coombe? Surely that’s not
     what your dear mother would have wanted?’
    Oh, how low, she thought. ‘I
     appreciate your concern, sir, but I assure you it won’t come to that. I take
     my duties towards my family seriously and have already decided what we shall do. Now
     if you’ll excuse me I have work to see to,’ she said, snatching up the
     little brass bell from the table and ringing it vigorously. As he stared at her in
     disbelief, Tilda appeared in the doorway.
    ‘Squire Clinsden is leaving.
     Please show him out.’
    ‘You’ll be sorry for
     this,’ he hissed before stomping from the room.
    Trembling, she sank onto the chair and
     covered her face with her hands. She had made a powerful enemy, she knew, but the
     idea of being friendly with the squire was even more frightening.

CHAPTER 8
    ‘Are you all right, miss?’
     Looking up, Lily saw the maid hovering in the doorway, eyeing her anxiously.
    ‘Yes, thank you, Tilda,’ she
     said, forcing a smile. Then, taking a breath to steady herself, she hurried back to
     the workroom and summoned the ladies in from the yard.
    Although they came in willingly enough,
     she could sense the underlying tension as they settled themselves at their
     pillows.
    ‘Oops, I think I’ve put a
     pin in the wrong place,’ Nell announced, not sounding the least bit
     concerned.
    Lily went over to look at her work.
     ‘I can’t see anything amiss,’ she said, frowning down at the
     perfect sprig before her.
    ‘Silly me, I must have been
     mistaken,’ Nell giggled, shaking her mane of copper hair.
    ‘Easily done,’ Lily said
     lightly. ‘However, I think you should put your cap back on before Mrs Bodney
     returns. She won’t be pleased if she finds red hair over your lace
     work.’
    Nell glowered, muttered something under
     her breath and then reluctantly did as she’d been asked.
    Impatient to resume her own work, Lily
     hurried back to her stool but as she sat down a flash of grey caught her eye.
     Bending to see what it was, her eyes widened in surprise when she saw a mouse
     nibbling the straw that waspoking through a hole in her pillow. As
     she watched, the creature edged closer to the pristine white of her thread. Deftly
     scooping it up, she hurried to the door and let it go. She watched it scuttle to
     freedom, fervently wishing she could join it.
    Hearing barely suppressed giggles, she
     turned to face the lace makers. It was obvious from the looks of amusement Cora and
     Nell were exchanging, that this had been planned in retaliation for earlier. When
     they saw Lily staring at them, they quickly looked down at their work.
    Returning to her stool, Lily stared at
     her damaged pillow. Pranks she could put up with, wilful damage she could not
     ignore.
    ‘Who slit my pillow?’ she
     demanded, looking around the workroom, which was now ominously silent. ‘Put
     down your bobbins this minute,’ she instructed. The lace makers stared at her
     in amazement but did as they’d been told. ‘I will ask you once more. Who
     did this?’ she asked, pointing to the slit in her pillow and then staring at
     each of them in turn. Although they fidgeted on their stools, still no one answered.
     Knowing she needed to gain the upper hand or she’d never command the respect
     required of an overseer, she ordered firmly, ‘No more work will be done until
     the culprit owns up.’
    ‘But before she left, Mrs Bodney
     said we had to produce