The Penmaker's Wife Page 4

  Nevertheless, she had not retracted her invitation. If anything, the revelation that Angelica and William were living by the charity of others seemed only to further pique Georgina’s curiosity, which was just as well; since Mr Featherstone had called on Angelica that morning bearing ill news, she was all the more anxious to further her acquaintance with Georgina and make a good impression.

  As the house came into view, Angelica drew a deep breath to help calm herself. ‘Isn’t it a fine-looking house, William?’ she said as she took in the red-brick building with its many tall chimney stacks and pointed iron-framed windows that were typical of the Gothic architectural style. ‘Would you like to live in a house like that someday?’

  William’s face was so close to the carriage window that the glass had all but steamed up. He wiped it with his hand so he could see better. ‘It’s very big,’ he said, blinking to shield his eyes from the strong afternoon sunlight.

  They arrived at the front of the house, where the carriage slowly turned around a central stone fountain before coming to a stop. The carriage rocked as the driver climbed down, and a moment later he appeared outside the door and opened it. He was a jolly-looking man with a round face and wiry sideburns. His sincere smile immediately put Angelica at ease.

  ‘Here we are, miss,’ he said. ‘Welcome to Priory House.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Angelica said, taking the driver’s hand.

  Over the man’s shoulder as she was helped down, Angelica saw someone who, judging from her unadorned black attire, was another member of the household staff. She was standing in the shadows beneath a pointed archway that stood at the centre of the house, above which spread a tidy tangle of ivy leaves. As William jumped down from the carriage, scattering the gravel, the woman came to meet them.

  ‘I’m Missus Redmond, the housekeeper,’ she said with a suitably authoritative tone. ‘You must be Mrs Chastain and the young Master William. If you’d care to follow me, Mrs Hampton’s expecting you in the orangery.’

  Missus Redmond, whom Angelica put in her late forties, had a quick step that was at times difficult to keep up with. She led them through a dark, Jacobean panelled hallway to the back of the house, where they were shown into a large and far brighter room full of plants, with windows that looked out on to a colourful formal garden. Most of the windows were open, drawing a pleasant afternoon breeze.

  ‘Mrs Chastain, madam,’ Redmond announced, stepping aside and inviting Angelica and William through.

  Georgina Hampton was seated in the middle of the room at a round table that was set with starched white linen and glistening silverware, ready for afternoon tea. She was already accompanied at the table by two other guests, one in pale apricot, the other in bold mauve and black stripes. Georgina was all in white again, with a frilled and beribboned cap. It was a different dress from the one she had been wearing the day before and Angelica wished she had arrived wearing something different herself, but her only other gown was now far too shabby for company such as this. She approached, smiling at her hostess as she walked towards her as gracefully as she could manage while William tried to hide behind her back.

  ‘I told you he was adorable,’ Georgina said to her other guests, almost laughing as she spoke and trying to get a peek at William, who was doing his best to stay hidden. She stood up as Angelica arrived at the table, and the other two ladies followed suit. ‘I’m so glad you came, Angelica. And you too, William,’ she added, smiling at the boy as he clung to his mother’s side as if for dear life.

  ‘We’ve been looking forward to it,’ Angelica said. ‘Haven’t we, William?’ she added, stroking the boy’s hair back off his forehead.

  William nodded, saying nothing.

  ‘Splendid,’ Georgina said. ‘Now, before I forget my manners, let me introduce you to my good friends, Effie Wilmington-Reed and Violet Cosgrove. Effie is the youngest daughter of the Warwickshire Wilmington-Reeds. I’m sure I need say no more.’

  ‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ Angelica said, gently shaking Effie’s hand as she took in the full rolls of chestnut-brown hair beneath her bonnet and the pink blush of her cheeks against her pale skin.

  ‘Violet’s family is in the silver industry,’ Georgina said. ‘I have them to thank for this lovely silverware,’ she added, picking up a fork and turning it slowly to show off the fine engraving.

  ‘How do you do?’ Violet said, her smile offsetting her brusque tone.

  While Effie was clearly the youngest there, a few years Angelica’s junior by her estimation, Violet was the senior lady by a good many years. Her hair was black and un-primped beneath her bonnet, and her eyes were full of scrutiny as she held out her hand. Angelica soon discovered it to be as firm as her tone.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Angelica said, not yet convinced that she meant it, or whether the feeling was mutual.

  ‘Georgina tells us your husband died,’ Violet said. ‘We have that in common. I lost mine two years ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘Don’t be. We barely saw one another. He worked himself to death, and I shan’t marry again. I’m considering a dog instead – one of those miniature breeds. They’re very fashionable.’

  Angelica gave her an awkward smile. She had no idea what to say next, but thankfully one of the maids saved her. Angelica hadn’t noticed her at first because she had been so still and so quiet, standing among the plants. She suddenly came forward and pulled out one of the cane bergère chairs.

  ‘Thank you,’ Angelica said, as everyone sat down.

  Tea was served promptly at four o’clock, by which time Alexander had been brought in. He was dressed as a pirate, and William’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw him. He let go of his mother at last and ran to Alexander, wide-eyed as he took the costume in.

  ‘Do you want to play?’ Alexander said, his own face beaming at the sight of his new friend.

  William nodded his head several times. ‘Can I dress up, too?’

  ‘Yes, but you’ll have to be a cowboy or a soldier.’

  ‘A soldier,’ William said. ‘Then I can try to catch you.’

  They were led away together for a special afternoon tea of their own, and it was as if no one else was in the room. William didn’t even turn back to his mother, although her eyes never left him.

  ‘So adorable,’ Georgina said. ‘Young William must come and play with Alexander often. I’m sure they’re destined to become the best of friends.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Angelica said, thinking back to what Mr Featherstone had told her that morning, hoping it wouldn’t stand in the way of things.

  Angelica had taken afternoon tea before, but not in a while, and never quite like this. There was an assortment of delicate colourful cakes on a tiered stand, and another for all manner of dainty sandwiches. There was fresh fruit with a variety of berries, as well as pastries, jellies and cream. The crockery felt so fine that she was constantly afraid of breaking it, but she thought afternoon tea was something she could easily become accustomed to.

  ‘Georgina tells us you’ve come up from London,’ Effie said with enthusiasm.

  Angelica smiled politely and nodded as she sipped her tea.

  ‘I’ve not been to London in years,’ Effie continued. ‘Not since my parents took me to the opera at Covent Garden on my sixteenth birthday. I love opera, don’t you?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’ve never been,’ Angelica said, beginning to feel a little out of place in such refined company.

  Georgina set her teacup down on its saucer with a musical tinkle. ‘Tell me, Angelica, you’re clearly not from London, though, are you? Were you born in France? You have the most charming accent.’

  ‘Yes, in Normandy,’ Angelica said. ‘I was raised by my grandparents in a village near Rouen.’

  ‘Your grandparents?’ Violet said with raised eyebrows.

  Angelica nodded. ‘My parents died when I was very young.’

  ‘You poor thing,’ Effie said. ‘How terri
ble for you.’

  ‘It wasn’t so bad for me,’ Angelica said. ‘I have no memory of my parents, and my grandparents were very kind.’

  ‘So how is it that you came to England?’ Georgina asked. ‘Marriage, I suppose.’

  Angelica wanted to pluck another cake from the stand, but she supposed she would be allowed no time to savour it and she didn’t want to embarrass herself by speaking with her mouth full or, heaven forbid, spraying crumbs everywhere. ‘No, I married after I came to England,’ she said. ‘Although I met my husband in Rouen. He was an Englishman there on business. There was nothing for me in our little village. I was young and he swept me off my feet with the promise of a grand future together in London, but it was not to be.’

  ‘What happened, Angelica?’ Effie asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

  ‘What business was he in?’ Violet asked, reaching for the cake stand.

  ‘He was a leather-case maker. His work was very fine, and he had great ambition. He borrowed money to expand his business, but he had no head for finance. He’d overreached and soon fell into overwhelming debt, of which I had no knowledge at the time. It was only after he took his life that I learned the truth. William and I were suddenly left without a home, and little money with which to make a fresh start.’

  ‘That really is dreadful,’ Georgina said, then she clutched her stomach and winced. She put her cup and saucer down with a clatter. ‘Do excuse me,’ she added, her cheeks flushing.

  ‘Are you well?’ Angelica asked. ‘Has something disagreed with you?’

  Georgina gave a small laugh that was quickly accompanied by further titters from the other ladies. ‘No, my dear, I’m going to have another baby. I should have given Alexander a little brother or sister to play with long before now.’

  ‘Not for the want of trying,’ Violet said, suggesting to Angelica that they had been close friends for some time.

  ‘No,’ Georgina agreed, ‘and now I’m afraid he or she will make no suitable companion for Alexander at all.’

  ‘My own boys are all away at Harrow now,’ Violet said. ‘Were I a younger woman I would have provided a companion for Alexander.’

  ‘I know you would, Violet,’ Georgina said. ‘You really are too kind.’

  Angelica was glad the conversation had turned away from her for the time being, or she feared she might have had to explain how she came to meet Mr Featherstone. She did not wish to relive the events that had led to her and William sleeping rough on the streets, or a single moment of the time she had spent in the company of Tom Blanchard.

  She noticed that Effie was staring at her from across the table. ‘Do you have any children, Effie?’ she asked, attempting to keep the conversation going.

  Effie seemed to wake as if from a daydream. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I have not yet been blessed.’

  ‘I should hope not!’ Violet said. ‘You are not yet married.’

  ‘Not married?’ Angelica said. ‘But you’re very pretty, and coming from such a prestigious family I’m sure you could have your pick of eligible gentlemen.’

  Effie blushed and delicately bit into a sandwich.

  Violet gave a low harrumph. ‘I think your father must be scaring them off with that ridiculous gun collection of his. It’s not sensible for any man to be so obsessed with firearms. I’ve heard he has close to a hundred pieces.’

  ‘At least,’ Effie said. ‘He used to show them to me all the time, but I no longer have any interest in such things.’

  ‘Yes, well, we’re doing our utmost to find Effie a suitable match, aren’t we, Georgina?’

  Georgina had been playing with her high collar since she put her teacup down, as if uncomfortable with it. She finally loosened it and seemed to relax again at last. ‘You’re far too fussy, Effie. That’s the trouble,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to become an old maid, do you?’

  Before Effie could reply, the door opened and a tall, slim man in a black frock coat and grey trousers entered. He had a claret-red puff tie at his neck and a top hat beneath his arm.

  ‘Stanley!’ Georgina said, getting to her feet. ‘What a pleasant surprise. Will you be joining us?’

  ‘No, no, I can’t stop,’ Stanley said, straightening his moustache with the side of his forefinger. ‘I’m meeting Alfred at five. Good afternoon, ladies.’

  ‘Alfred?’ Georgina said, sitting down again. ‘Whatever for?’

  ‘I expect he wants to bore me with money matters as usual, and I want to show him this.’

  There was notable excitement in Stanley’s voice. He reached inside his coat and produced a flat leather case from which he withdrew a plain black fountain pen. He removed the cap and handed it to Georgina, who studied it briefly before turning it in her hands and studying it some more.

  ‘Don’t you see it?’ Stanley said, smiling and shaking his head.

  Georgina looked bemused. ‘It’s just another of your pens – and a very plain-looking pen at that.’

  Stanley drew an impatient breath. ‘The nib!’ he said. ‘Look closely at the nib. It’s the first to be pressed by Hampton and Moore in our very own factory. Now we no longer have to buy our nibs from Josiah Mason, and that means we can not only create our own designs and save money, which is sure to please our partner when I tell him, but more to the point, it means we can now manufacture our handcrafted fountain pens and dip pens in their entirety.’

  ‘I see,’ Georgina said, her attention now focused on the nib.

  ‘The confounded thing still leaks,’ Stanley continued, ‘but I’ve yet to see a fountain pen that doesn’t.’ He held out his hand and Georgina returned the pen to him. ‘Well, I have to be going. I just wanted to share the news with you first.’

  Georgina’s eyes were suddenly on Angelica. ‘You must let me introduce you to our new friend before you go,’ she said. ‘This is the lady I met in the park yesterday, with the little boy I told you about. Angelica Chastain, my husband Stanley Hampton.’

  When Stanley turned to Angelica she thought he seemed to notice her as if for the first time. ‘Your humble servant, madam,’ he said with a smile and a bow of his head.

  For all his excitement, he was a softly spoken man. Angelica put him in his mid-thirties, perhaps ten years older than Georgina. ‘I’m delighted to meet you, Mr Hampton,’ she said, returning his smile. She noticed his ears prick up at the sound of her subtle French accent, but he gave it no mention. She saw an endearing blush rise in his cheeks as he retreated.

  ‘I bid you all enjoy your afternoon,’ he said, before leaving as quickly as he had arrived.

  Violet was full of smiles. ‘Such a charming man,’ she said. ‘And a most handsome gentleman indeed.’ She turned to Effie and rekindled their earlier conversation. ‘A man like Stanley Hampton would suit you very well, my dear. ‘

  ‘As long as it’s a man like Stanley Hampton,’ Georgina said with a grin, ‘and not the man himself.’

  Everyone except Effie laughed.

  ‘My husband studied metallurgy before he went into the production of pens,’ Georgina said. ‘He says that a pen is an extension of the mind, and would like nothing more than to put one in the hands of every man, woman and child, whatever their class or occupation.’

  ‘It’s a noble thought,’ Angelica said.

  ‘And a profitable one,’ Violet added.

  Georgina laughed to herself. ‘Must you always be so direct, Violet? I’m sure my husband’s interests are as much for education and communication as they are for profit. It’s fair to say, though, that he and Alfred are keen to grow the business, and if that means greater profit, then it will certainly keep Alfred happy.’ She turned to Angelica. ‘Alfred is my husband’s business partner. He takes care of the finances while Stanley looks after production and just about everything else.’ She paused. ‘But enough of business. Won’t you tell us some more about yourself, or shall we save it for another day?’

  In exchange for another fine afternoon tea in their company, Angelica would g
ladly have told them more. Here was a circle of friends she very much wished to be a part of, but since Mr Featherstone’s visit that morning, she feared it was not to be.

  ‘I had better tell you all there is to know now,’ she said, her voice rising in distress as she recalled what Mr Featherstone had said. ‘If not now, then I’m afraid I shall not have the opportunity to do so.’

  ‘Whatever do you mean?’ Georgina asked.

  ‘I mean I must leave the area,’ Angelica said. ‘When it was reported to Mr Featherstone that I had been coming and going with parcels under my arms and wearing such fine clothes as these, as if I were a lady of means, I suppose, I was told I had to leave the almshouse – that it was not intended for the likes of me. The truth is that I spent what little money we had left on appearances.’ She flicked at her sleeve. ‘That’s all this is.’

  ‘You wanted to feel like a lady again,’ Violet said. ‘We can understand that.’

  ‘It was sheer vanity,’ Angelica said. ‘I would not even use the money to put food in our mouths. My poor William. How will I ever forgive myself? Now, of course, we have nothing, but we are not without hope. I recently met a man who told me he could feed and shelter us. He has work for William, too, if not for me.’

  There were sudden gasps from everyone around the table as they imagined the kind of work a young boy William’s age would be put to.

  ‘Work for William?’ Georgina said, looking as horrified as she sounded. ‘That sweet little boy? He’s so young. I won’t hear of it. I’ve been thinking about your situation since we met in the park yesterday. In light of what you’ve just said, I have a proposition for you that I’m sure will be advantageous to both of us.’

  CHAPTER FIVE