The Bride of Ivy Green Page 9

  “I doubt my sister was motivated by gain. Though I suppose a bit of spending money of her own was welcome. In fact, perhaps we ought to do something for her, now that she hasn’t any income.”

  “Surely your father will give his daughter whatever allowance he deems best?”

  “He may not think of it.”

  “You are the most generous of men, my dear. But I hope you don’t intend to spoil her. What would a single woman possibly spend money on . . . ?”

  Mercy continued upstairs, heart thudding in her ears and muffling George’s reply, whatever it might have been.

  She decided then and there that, if Aunt Matty was amenable, she would write to accept her parents’ invitation to spend time with them in London.

  chapter

  Thirteen

  Jane returned to Lane’s Farm the next afternoon, bringing a jar of calves’ foot jelly. Gabriel regarded the gelatinous grey mound with suspended shards of fatty meat, his distaste poorly concealed. “It is . . . kind of you, but I am not on my deathbed, nor an octogenarian.”

  “I know, I just thought it would help strengthen you. I have to do something.”

  He set aside the dish with a sigh. “Jane, as you have often reminded me, you have a coaching inn to manage. You don’t need to come here every day to coddle me.”

  “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you.”

  “But I . . .” He ran a frustrated hand over his face. “Jane, I don’t want another nurse. Sadie is more than enough. Listen, I’ve given some thought to what you said about Mrs. Mullins, and I agree. She may come and put me through her regimen, but please, go about your own business until I am well.”

  Hurt nipped at her. “Are you saying you don’t want me to visit you?”

  He reached for her hand. “Of course not. But I want you to be a normal bride-to-be, preparing for her wedding. I want you to go and buy wedding clothes and whatever else it is engaged females do.”

  She considered. “Perhaps Victorine has something suitable in her shop.”

  “Jane.”

  “I don’t like leaving you alone here.”

  “I am not alone. I have Susie, Sadie, and soon Mrs. Mullins. And with the hired men on the farm, I shall be very well looked after.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “And of course Dr. Burton stops by regularly, as do Talbot and Thora, the best neighbors a man could ask for.”

  Jane studied his earnest eyes and admitted, “I suppose a new gown would be nice. As it happens, Mercy and her aunt are going to London soon and have invited me to join them.”

  “There, you see? Perfect. Go and enjoy every minute.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

  Still, Jane hesitated. “Are you certain? It doesn’t feel right to leave you now.”

  “Perfectly certain. And why not? You heard Dr. Burton. I am in no imminent danger. I shall not die while you are away, except perhaps of boredom.” He winked.

  “Then I should stay and read to you, or—”

  “No, Jane. I can read for myself.” He squeezed her hand. “Please. I know some men might like their wives to baby them, but not me. I don’t like you seeing me so weak. I want you to see me as strong and capable.”

  “I do.”

  “Then prove it by leaving me for a time.”

  Jane finally relented. She reluctantly agreed to go, but only after confirming with Mrs. Mullins that she would tend to Gabriel during her absence and instructing Cadi to deliver a meal every day from The Bell kitchen, which Mrs. Rooke was surprisingly happy to prepare. Jane would try to do as Gabriel admonished and go about her own business and even go to London, but her heart would remain on Lane’s Farm.

  After church on Sunday, Aunt Matty stopped to talk to Mrs. O’Brien, so Mercy walked out with Jane alone.

  Jane took her arm and said, “If the invitation still stands, I will go to London with you. Gabriel thinks I should go and buy wedding clothes. He seems to want to be rid of me for some reason.”

  “I am certain it is not that, Jane. But whatever the reason, I am glad. Aunt Matty is eager to go as well. In fact, I have already written to Mamma to accept. I will write again with the happy news that you will be joining us.”

  “She won’t mind?”

  “I am sure she won’t. And between you and me, I have decided to buy Aunt Matty a new gown for the trip from Victorine’s—if I can scrape up enough money. She has not had anything new in years.”

  “That gold-and-blue dress looked so pretty on her.”

  “I agree. It will likely cost a pretty penny too. But I will see what we can do. I have a little money left from the school.”

  “You are a kind and thoughtful niece, Mercy Grove.”

  “Thank you. But going to London is not a selfless decision.” Mercy had her own reasons for wishing to be absent from Ivy Hill at present.

  The next day, Mercy and Matilda went to the dressmaker’s shop together. After naming the day of the proposed trip, Victorine agreed that there wasn’t time to make a new dress, so she offered to sell them the model from the display window. She had to take it in quite a bit and add an extra flounce on the bottom to accommodate Matilda’s height, but she did so quickly and even gave Aunt Matty a matching turban at no additional cost. Mercy thought the price exceedingly reasonable. She hoped Victorine had not taken pity on them as two poor spinsters and charged them accordingly, but her aunt was happy, and therefore, so was Mercy.

  Jane had seen the Miss Groves enter the shop across the street and walked over to join them just as they were finishing up. She congratulated Matilda on the new gown and again thanked the two for including her in the upcoming trip.

  Victorine said, “I have just heard your good news, Jane. Congratulations on your engagement.”

  “Thank you.” Jane added a little sheepishly, “I hope you don’t mind, but I plan to have a dress made while we’re in London.”

  “Not at all. I am still working on a design for Miss Brockwell.” She added, “One wedding gown is enough pressure for now, believe me.”

  Jane bid them all farewell and left the shop. She was just crossing the street back to The Bell when Jack Gander walked through the tall coach archway, stretching his legs, she guessed, while the ostlers changed the horses. He braced his hands on his hips and leaned back with a grimace of pain.

  “Morning, Jack. Are you all right?”

  Another grimace. “Weary of being on the road, truth be told. Especially this year, with all the foul weather we’ve had. Spending all day on the back of that coach takes a toll.”

  Jane had never seen the gregarious Royal Mail guard anything but cheerful. The vulnerability on his handsome face touched her, but a moment later it vanished behind one of his mischievous grins.

  “But don’t tell the coachman I said so. He’ll call me a mollycoddled milksop.”

  She returned his grin. “Your secret is safe with me, Jack. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Not unless you can control the weather.” He winked. “No, I’m all right, Mrs. Bell. Helps just talking to you.”

  “Any time, Jack.”

  Something caught Jack’s attention across the street. “Who is that?”

  Jane turned to look, and saw Victorine standing before her shop, bidding farewell to the Miss Groves, then pausing to greet Mrs. Snyder.

  “That is our new dressmaker, Madame Victorine.”

  His brow furrowed. “I have seen her somewhere before.”

  “Do you know, I had that same feeling when I first met her. I’ve decided she must just remind me of someone.”

  He shook his head. “I have seen her. I know it. A man doesn’t forget a beautiful woman like that. Where is she from, do you know?”

  “She mentioned she was born in France but has lived in England for many years.”

  “Where did she live before coming here?”

  “She didn’t say. Apparently, she has lived in many places. Perhaps you have seen her on your route so
mewhere.”

  “I suppose, but it is going to bother me until I figure it out.”

  “You could simply ask her, you know.”

  He looked at her, brows quirked. “I always knew you were a clever woman, Mrs. Bell. I believe I shall take your advice. But right now—duty calls.” He doffed his hat. “The mail must not be delayed.”

  chapter

  Fourteen

  The eve of their departure, Mercy packed her better dresses and helped Aunt Matty pack hers, along with the new gown from Victorine’s.

  At the appointed time the following day, they met up with Jane at The Bell’s booking desk, where Colin McFarland helped them purchase seats for London.

  He glanced at Mercy and teased, “Look sharp. Teacher on the premises. Heaven help me figure her change correctly.”

  Mercy gave him a grin and assessed the coins on the counter. “Perfect. You have come a long way, Colin. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thank you. You ladies have a pleasant journey now. Don’t you worry, Mrs. Bell, I shall send for Thora if any problems arise.”

  “Very good, Colin. And don’t forget the brewer’s bill is due today.”

  “Oh. Right.” Colin headed for the office.

  When Aunt Matty stepped to the side door to keep watch for their coach, Mercy whispered to Jane, “Are you worried about leaving The Bell, with Patrick living in Wishford now? I hope Colin is up to the challenge.”

  “Colin has improved, as you see. And Thora has offered to help out as needed while we’re away.”

  “Good, then you can relax and enjoy yourself.”

  Jane smirked. “I can try.”

  After a tedious, jarring journey made more pleasant by conversation between friends, they arrived in the city. Reaching the Mayfair townhouse, they were greeted warmly by Mercy’s parents and shown to their rooms. Even Jane was made to feel very welcome.

  “What a delightful time we shall have,” said Mrs. Grove. “It has been too long since we’ve all enjoyed the season together. We shall go to the theatre and a concert. And we have been invited to several parties at the homes of old friends.”

  Mercy pressed her eyes closed and asked, “Mamma, please tell me you haven’t any matchmaking schemes in mind?”

  “No, my dear. Not a one.”

  Her father gave her a significant look and nodded his agreement.

  Apparently her mother was in earnest, for they attended the parties over the next few days, and there was not a single suitor in sight.

  After a concert the third night, Mercy and Jane sat on the bed together in their nightclothes and curling papers. It was as if they were girls again, spending the night at one of their houses, sharing biscuits sneaked from the kitchen and staying up too late talking. If only Rachel might have joined them, but she was Lady Brockwell now, and soon Jane would be married too. Their lives were changing. Though in Mercy’s case, it seemed, not for the better.

  “I am relieved, of course,” Mercy said. “Though at the same time, it is slightly depressing to realize that even my mother has given up on me and is resigned to leave me on the shelf.” She gave a self-abasing chuckle and popped the last butter biscuit into her mouth. “You have to fit into a wedding dress. I don’t.”

  The next day, Jane and Mercy joined her mother for tea and conversation over several new ladies magazines. Her father was out at his club, and Aunt Matty was enjoying an afternoon nap.

  Jane said, “The alto last night was wonderful. Thank you for including me.”

  Mercy nodded. “Yes, thank you, Mamma. The whole visit has been lovely.”

  Her mother replied, “Of course I was happy for you to visit, but truth be told, it was Helena’s idea.”

  Mercy blinked in surprise. “Oh?”

  Her mother nodded and turned to another page of fashion plates. “She wrote to hint that such an invitation would be a great personal favor to her. Apparently, she longed for some time alone with George in their new home. I am only sorry I did not think of it myself.”

  Mercy noticed Jane’s sympathetic look, but said evenly, “I suppose I can’t blame her, though after their long wedding trip and time with all her relatives, I had hoped that having Matty and me in residence would not be too much of an imposition.”

  “Now, Mercy, she didn’t say you were an imposition. Although I remember the early days of my married life, and it was a little uncomfortable having my sister-in-law at every meal. But we grew accustomed to each other, and so shall you. And hopefully there will be a child or two soon, which will give you something to distract yourselves. You can help Helena with the children as Matilda helped me. It did a great deal to improve our relationship.”

  “Yes, Aunt Matty said something similar. I shall keep that in mind.”

  “There, you see?” Her mother blithely turned another page without looking up. Would she even have noticed Mercy’s despondent expression if she had?

  When they were alone, Jane pressed her hand. “Are you all right?”

  Mercy sighed. “Yes. And truly, I cannot blame Helena. For I confess it is a relief to be out of her company for a time. Having to be polite and tread carefully, to constantly guard my tongue. Never to feel perfectly at ease. I should not be offended that she feels something of the same. And I have the benefit of friends and neighbors to distract me. She does not even have that. I should try harder to be more kind and accepting.”

  Jane slowly shook her head. “Mercy Grove, you are one of the kindest people I know. Hopefully Helena will come to realize that as well.”

  On their last night they prepared to attend the theatre. Jane had a final fitting on her dress scheduled for the next morning, and then they would begin packing for the trip home.

  As Mercy dressed, her mother surprised her by saying, “You know you may stay longer, if you wish. Your father and I have quite enjoyed the company.”

  “Thank you, Mamma. We have enjoyed our time here too. But Jane must get back. And I miss my neighbors and snug Ivy Hill, where I know each winding lane and bend in the brook like the lines of my own palm.”

  “I shall never understand how you can prefer tiny Ivy Hill to the great city of London, but”—she raised an expressive hand—“to each her own. Do promise to visit again, won’t you?”

  “I shall.”

  During the intermission at that night’s performance, Mercy, Jane, and Matilda left their seats in the overly warm box and ventured into the crowded hall, hoping for a breath of fresh air.

  A woman wearing a nearly identical blue-and-gold dress stopped to stare at Matilda. After a moment, she spoke. “Madame Roland admitted she’d made another gown like mine, but assured me it was bound for France. She promised me mine would be the only one like it in all of London. Apparently I was deceived.”

  Matty chuckled awkwardly. “I am not acquainted with anyone by that name. I purchased this dress from a Madame Victorine in Wiltshire.”

  “Really?” The woman raised a skeptical brow.

  Mercy regarded the woman uneasily and added her assurance, “Yes, truly. I was with her at the time.”

  The woman studied Matty’s bodice. One bony finger touched a sleeve. “Dupioni silk, I believe. With muslin lining?”

  “I . . . believe so,” Matty replied. “I did not look that closely.”

  “Yours has an extra flounce.”

  Her aunt looked down at the skirt. “Yes. I rather like it.”

  The woman’s beady eyes sparked with ire, and for a moment Mercy feared she would yank the gown’s neckline to look for an identifying mark. But then the woman seemed to notice the curious looks they were drawing from passersby.

  She said, “Well. What a remarkable . . . coincidence. I shall have to speak with Madame Roland and see what she has to say about it. Good evening.”

  With that, she turned on her heel, stalked away, and was soon swallowed up by the milling crowd.

  “Well, that was strange,” Mercy said.

  Matilda watched her go. “Yes . . .”<
br />
  Jane spoke up. “The second act is soon to begin, so we had better return to our seats.”

  As they walked back, Mercy whispered, “What do you think, Jane? You don’t suppose Victorine is selling another dressmaker’s gowns, do you? Or secondhand gowns?”

  Jane whispered back, “I wouldn’t think so. Though I recently read in the newspaper about a lady’s maid who sold her mistress’s clothes for profit and was transported for her crimes.”

  “Stolen gowns?” Mercy looked at her askance. “Surely not. At least I hope not.”

  Jane said, “You’re right. Magazines are full of fashion plates of the latest French gowns, and no doubt many dressmakers copy them in their shops. I did the same myself once. I took a fashion plate to Mrs. Shabner and asked her to make the gown pictured—to disappointing results, I can tell you. I’m sure that’s all this is. A case of similar gowns made from the same pattern. A coincidence, as the woman said.”

  Mercy winced. “I have never been a big believer in coincidences, Jane.”

  Jane sighed. “Nor I.”

  “What should we do?”

  “We don’t want to accuse anyone on such flimsy evidence. But perhaps we ought to mention it to Victorine when we get home and see how she reacts?”

  Mercy nodded. “I’ll talk to Aunt Matty. See what she wants to do.”

  Jane had enjoyed the rare trip to London and time away with her dear friend, but she’d missed Gabriel terribly and worried about him during her absence. She had smiled through the parties, performances, and fittings, but as the days passed, she had begun to almost wish she had insisted on shopping in much nearer Salisbury instead.

  Finally, they returned to Ivy Hill with bandboxes, glove boxes, and sundry parcels in hand, and the gown to be delivered a fortnight later. Jane remained at The Bell long enough to stow her purchases, greet the staff, and make sure there were no pressing matters to attend to, but then she rode Athena out to Lane’s farm.

  It was after five when she arrived, so she expected Susie and Mrs. Mullins might have left for the day. But she assumed Sadie or someone else would be there.