Sauce for the Gander (The Marstone Series Book 1) by Davis Jayne

Author:Davis, Jayne [Davis, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi
Publisher: Verbena Books
Published: 2019-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Lady Wingrave is sewing in the south parlour, my lord,” Warren said. He held his hand out for the parcel Will carried, but Will held onto it.

“Show Archer where to put the stillroom supplies, will you?” He went on into the parlour, appreciating again the light and airy feel to the room. Leaving the parcel on the table, he crossed to the door of the smaller room.

He expected to see Connie with a frippery piece of embroidery in her hands; instead she sat in the middle of the sofa, her lap covered in a vast mound of pale yellow fabric. She was picking at a seam with a tiny pair of scissors, apparently concentrating so hard she hadn’t heard him approach.

“Good afternoon.”

“Oh!” She looked up with a start and then gave a wide smile. “Did you have a good trip?” She lifted the mass of fabric, depositing it on the sofa beside her, and brushed wisps of thread from the front of her gown.

“Yes, thank you.” He examined the material more closely. It appeared to be a gown. “Is this why you wanted thread? Isn’t there someone to mend that for you?”

“I’m not mending it, I’m altering it to fit me. It’s one of my mother’s old dresses. I’m making it more fashionable, too; skirts are not as wide as when Mama wore it.”

“I thought your father was sending on the rest of your clothing?”

Her face reddened. “I brought all I had with me, and a trunk of Mama’s gowns. There was no time to get new gowns, even if my father would have agreed to buy them.”

The memory of the two small trunks on the roof of the coach flashed through his mind. “Those trunks contained all your clothing?” Disbelief, and rising ire, made his voice louder than he intended, ringing in this small room. He clamped his teeth together as he saw Connie’s reaction, her gaze dropping to her lap.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I’m angry with your father, not you.”

“He doesn’t have much of an income. Only a small legacy from his mother.”

“Even so…” Will broke off—in his position, who was he to complain about a second son not wanting to work for a living? He rubbed his forehead—he had wanted to, if he’d been allowed to join the army, to do something useful for the country. “You don’t need to spend your time altering old clothing,” he said. “Come into Exeter with me next week, you can order some new clothing then.”

Perhaps some lacy nightwear…

“I enjoy doing it,” she said, smoothing a hand across the fabric. “I’ve little left from my mother, only these and a couple of watercolours. I’d like to remake a couple of her gowns, at least.”

“Of course, if you want to. Take on someone to help you, if you wish.”

“I was thinking about that. Sukey said her mother used to do sewing, I could ask her. I think the family could use the extra income, as well.”

“That sounds like a good idea.

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