Lady Winscombe's Parure by Leigh Leslie

Author:Leigh Leslie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical British Fiction, Family Sage Historical Fiction, Women’s Saga, Multigenerational Saga, Historical Mystery
Publisher: Nolan MacKenzie Books
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 43

Buxton, Derbyshire

“Mrs Clayton, it was positively horrid!” Jenny-wren sat at the kitchen table, her hair awry and her hands shaking. “He was there, Mr Smithers-Wright, all smiles and as pleasant as could be, and he wanted me to sit down on the sofa. The sofa Mrs Clayton! Sit down there beside him. Me! Whatever could he have been thinking?”

Mrs Clayton could only guess what he had been thinking, and she was positive that her guess would not have been far off the mark. She leant across the table and took Jenny-wren’s hands in hers. But she did not interrupt. Better for the young girl to express it all first, before offering verbal comment.

“Instead I walked across the room to the table under the windows and poured his tea. He stood up from the sofa and came towards me, I thought to take the cup, but you were right, he wanted to see my necklet. I had the teacup in my hand, and I was trying to give it to him, but he kept asking to see the necklet. He then told me that he didn’t want any tea, he only wanted to see the necklet. He became quite agitated, demanding that I give it to him to see. And that if I did not he would take it himself. I had a mind to empty the tea over him, but instead put the teacup back down on the table and went to walk away. But he lunged at me, then started to paw at my bodice, dragging me to the door, telling me all sorts of things that he and his special clients were going to do with me in the Back Room if I didn’t give him the necklet; things that I cannot repeat, not even to you. He was no longer just wanting to see the necklet; he was wanting to take it. Why would he want it? Even if you say it is real gems and not coloured glass, why would he want it? I wished then that I had drenched him with the tea. His anger could have been no worse. While he was fumbling with his free hand to open the door to the Back Room, I squirmed out of his grasp and ran down here. Oh Mrs Clayton,” she looked at the kitchen door. “What am I to do? I do not want to set eyes on that odious man ever again. What am I going to do? Oh, I so hope that Ben has found my aunt. If he has, I shall leave straight away. I do not care how far away she is. I need to get away from here. Now.”

Mrs Clayton also looked to the kitchen door and wondered how long it would be before Mr Smithers-Wright entered. He would know that this was where Jenny-wren would be. But he would also know that she would be here as well, and he would not have the gall to be confronted by her, not yet awhile.

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