Page 11 of Claiming the Tower (Council Mysteries #1)

B ess squared her shoulders. It was not usual for her to be in Trellech on a Monday, but Madame Judson had needed more embroidery floss, and the problem could not wait. Never mind that she had plenty of other sections on her current work in other colours.

Bess had been sent off with a list of the precise colours, with threads to match.

She had been told to wait and make sure the shop matched them properly.

Given the vagaries of dyeing fine silk embroidery floss, Bess expected it would take them some little time.

She would be scolded for how long she was away, no matter when she got back.

Madame Judson favoured crewel work, somewhat out of fashion these days.

Bess suspected she did so partly to better complain about the more recently popular Berlin work.

That was all counted stitches, quite geometric, and crewel work was more free-flowing.

Madam Judson had a good hand with her embroidery, if not an inventive eye for it.

Then she went in, offering a smile to the owner.

She was clear that the business was as much the work of Mistress Roberts as it was of her husband, who did the actual dye work.

“Mistress Roberts, I’m so hoping you might be a help.

Mistress Judson is in the very middle of her crewel work, and she simply must have more of several colours.

Tell me you’ll be able to match them to her standards? ”

Mistress Roberts was no fool, and well, she made her living catering to the sometimes ridiculous demands of a certain class of woman.

“Ah. I am glad to have a look, of course. It may take me some little time. We’re training up a new apprentice, and she’s not yet as quick at matching threads as we hope she will become. ”

“I am glad to wait, of course. Would it be convenient to wait here, or to come back?”

“Oh, please make yourself at home.” The downstairs of the shop was not spacious, but there was a small sofa and two side chairs set in the window and a table.

The window was sufficient to look at the various threads in good lighting on a sunny day.

Or, given the weather in Wales, supplemental charmlights for the cloudy weeks.

Bess nodded once and settled down. Mistress Roberts set something aside behind the counter.

She put up a small sign, and added, “If you’d let anyone who comes in know they can ring and I’ll be right down, that would be a help. ”

“Of course, mistress.” Bess waited until the older woman disappeared up the back stairs, calling out to someone on the way.

Only once she was alone in the shop did Bess pull a small book out of her reticule.

It was the sort of thing she carried when she expected to be interrupted.

The series of vignettes could provide a sentence or two of conversation if someone asked what she was reading.

She’d had to set aside other works, except for the moments she got late at night.

Madam Judson disapproved of Bess reading things her employer did not understand.

She had been reading for perhaps ten minutes when the door opened, and the bell above it chimed.

Bess glanced up, then blinked. “Amelia.” Her cousin, a little older than Bess, and not someone who had remained in touch.

One of her daughters wrote regularly, and a letter from Lily always brightened Bess’s day.

“Goodness. Bess. What brings you here?” Amelia glanced toward the counter. “Is Mistress Roberts in?”

“Please ring. She’s upstairs, looking to match some embroidery thread for Madam Judson for me. A serious matter of nearly running out of three of the greens.” Bess spoke evenly.

“Ah, well. I won’t ring just yet. It’s been an age since we spoke, though Lily was saying we ought to invite you out for something over the summer.” Amelia settled down on one of the chairs. “You look—” Then her voice trailed off, as if she could not think of anything suitably polite to say.

Bess knew very well what she looked like.

Drab, for one thing, because Madam Judson did not approve of personal decoration in her staff, nor of individuality.

She had on a perfectly serviceable dress, three years old, made of a pale brown chintz with small and undemanding flowers printed on it in a darker brown.

It was respectable, but nothing more than that.

“You look lovely, Amelia. The bonnet, especially.” It was more florid than Bess would choose, even if she had more choice in that sort of thing. But the broad ribbons matched the detailing on Amelia’s blue and green dress. “I hope your family is well?”

“Oh, yes. Quite well. We’re ever so proud of Rupert.

” That was her son, a bit younger than Lily.

“Did you hear about his promotion? And younger than most.” Rupert worked in the Ministry, something having to do with accounting, but the responsibility suited him.

“And of course the little ones are delightful, always.” Then Amelia turned the question around. “And you?”

“Settled, of course. Madam Judson keeps me busy. I’m afraid it’s quite a challenge to get time away for anything with the family.” Bess wondered whether to lean on the fact of a letter. “Or even write back as promptly as I’d like, but I enjoy hearing from Lily and replying as I get a moment.”

“Well, Lily remembers you fondly, despite, well, everything.” Amelia sniffed slightly. “It’s a pity you’re not using your gifts somewhere better suited, honestly.”

Bess had to swallow down a howl of frustration.

No matter how tempting it would be to release it, it would do her no good.

Not with Amelia, not with Mistress Roberts who surely had charms to make it easy to hear what was going on down here.

Certainly not with anyone else who would be told the gossip later.

That might be quite a lot of people. Instead, she used those hard-earned skills, made sure the way she was clenching her right hand wasn’t at all visible, and spoke as clearly as she could manage.

“I haven’t had other options, Amelia. Those have passed me by, now. ”

“Well, it’s a pity. You ought to have put yourself out more.

Or your parents ought.” There was Amelia’s disapproving tone.

The worst part about it was that Amelia was right.

Much as Bess loved and missed her parents, they had made things so much harder than they needed to be.

It wasn’t as if Bess were doing anything that mattered, or even using her skills somewhere they were appreciated.

She’d considered trying to get another position.

But even if she managed to get away for interviews, she had no hope that anything she could get would be better than Madam Judson.

Other places, she might be asked to take on duties she particularly disliked, or have to deal with a man of the house with assumptions about her favours.

The food might be worse or even more scanty, or the other staff difficult to deal with.

Being with Madam Judson could not be described as pleasant, but she knew what to expect.

The other staff were all kind enough in their ways, as they had space to be. Why leap from the pot to the fire?

Bess took another breath. “It is what it is.” It made it sound like she’d given up, and maybe she had.

Or maybe she was just not making matters any worse.

Bess wasn’t even sure she knew anymore, except that she didn’t want things to get worse.

Before she had to say anything more, Mistress Roberts came down.

“Mistress Marley. Oh, and Mistress Osbourne, I hope you’ve not been waiting long. Mistress Marley, it will be a few minutes more, I’m afraid.”

“That’s entirely fine, thank you. Please see to what Amelia needs.

” It wasn’t as if more of a delay would make things a great deal worse, probably.

Amelia’s requests were in fact reasonably simple.

They involved new skeins of thread, along with some plain handkerchiefs to work.

A pattern of late summer flowers for a gift, apparently, as Bess listened to the sort of quiet chatter that filled in the silences in places like this.

Once that was handled, Mistress Roberts disappeared again, and Amelia took her leave out into the street. Bess picked up her book, but she was only a few pages in when the door opened again. This time it was Adelaide Ledger. “Mistress Marley, good afternoon!”

The woman seemed honestly pleased to see her. Bess had the momentary blink at seeing Adelaide out of her ordinary place at the Field, but she managed a smile. “A particular errand for Mistress Judson. I hope things are running smoothly for you?”

“Oh, yes, I often do errands on Monday afternoons. It is a little quieter, at least until we get close to teatime.” Mistress Ledger tilted her head. “The rhythms of the place.”

“I suppose every establishment of the kind must have its own ebb and flow.” Bess had never thought about it, particularly with the Field.

Now she ventured a guess, something she’d not have done if Amelia was still here.

“I assume that things are busier in the evenings, especially, oh, Thursday through Sunday?”

“Just so. And Saturday and Sunday for a roast or some such. A few families who prefer to take one of the private rooms for such things regularly, others who would like to be around other people but not actually chatting.” Adelaide glanced around.

“Mistress Roberts is upstairs, I assume? I’m glad to wait. ”

“I don’t think she’ll be too much longer. She was finishing finding some skeins Mistress Judson needed.” This time, Bess felt she did an even worse job hiding her feelings, but there was nothing she could do about it. The words were said.

Adelaide settled on the chair, but in a different mode than Amelia had used.

She leaned forward a little, as if honestly engaged.

And her day dress was a green and dark gold chintz, muted colours, but ones that would look very well at the Field.

It made Bess think of a field of wheat, the way it moved as Adelaide settled down.

“I hope it’s a pleasant chance to do the errand.

We’re always glad to see you at the Field, of course, and it’s obvious you and Mistress Rowan have been enjoying your teas on Tuesdays. ”

Bess was suddenly quite aware of the listening charms again, but it wasn’t a secret Bess was talking to Hereswith.

Nor was it the thing Mistress Roberts would find interesting to gossip about.

“I do.” Bess took a breath, before going on.

“I enjoy hearing the stories that Mistress Rowan tells about the people she meets.” And her work, but she wouldn’t discuss that here.

“I like to think that she enjoys having someone to tell them to.”

“Oh, I’m certain of that. She’s one who gets on well with many people— well, diplomacy is her work, that’s to be expected.

But she doesn’t linger often with the same ones, regularly.

I’ve always thought that perhaps a bit of a shame.

It’s good to have many acquaintances, but also to build deeper friendships, reliable ones, that have good strong roots. ”

Bess couldn’t help smiling. “That is very much of the Field, isn’t it? That acknowledgement of the roots and seasons.” She nodded once. “Hereswith has been generous with her conversation, and I enjoy it. I just hope it’s not putting her out. She has so many other calls on her time.”

“And we should have seasons— or at least moments— of rest, ought we not?” Adelaide nodded decisively. “I hope that for you as well, of course.”

“You’re very kind.” Bess could not help comparing this conversation with the one with Amelia.

Adelaide was making it clear that she worried Bess was not doing well, but without ever pressing the point directly.

She had her own well-honed diplomatic skills, certainly.

But they— well, like Hereswith’s— came with a good dollop of kindness, where Amelia’s had been served up with judgement.

The one was far more palatable than the other.

Then there were steps on the stairs again, and Mistress Roberts came back down.

“Here we are. We managed to find the last two, and a good match. The same dye batch. I’ve made a note in case Mistress Judson has any concerns. Oh, and Mistress Ledger, a pleasure. I’ll be right with you.”

“Take your time. It’s been a delight to speak to Mistress Marley.

It always is.” Adelaide stayed seated while Bess went to the counter to inspect the various skeins, agree that they were a suitable match— and to hear how Mistress Roberts explained it.

Mistress Judson would complain, but she appreciated the shopkeeper’s help.

It might make it a smaller lecture. Once she’d paid, she smiled at the others, then took herself out and back to Portal Square without further comment.