The Shoemaker by Lisa Prysock

Author:Lisa Prysock [Prysock, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-11T06:00:00+00:00

“How are you settling in, Miss Lyndon?” Lady Amiée-Josephine inquired from her perch on a chair in the Morning Room the next morning at about eleven o’clock. “You must be enjoying a room of your own as most of our guests are doubled up.” Everyone had slept in until nine or ten. Trays of hot chocolať and croissants had been delivered to their rooms no earlier than nine because of the late party that had kept the household up late. Maids had scurried about hauling bath water, dressing the maidens, and styling their hair. Most of the ladies had slowly gathered in the second floor Morning Room at the top of the staircase to discuss the events of the coming day just before eleven.

“Very well, thank you, Lady Amiée-Josephine, though I do require another trip to the shoemaker,” Winnie looked up from her letter writing to reply from the writing desk in the corner.

“Oh you must visit the shoemaker on Abington Street, Mr. Wilmore! We all should!” Lady Anne-Marie insisted from where she stood by the fireplace, pacing back and forth about the room.

Before Winnie could reply that she had met him, Lady Jane inquired, her Scottish accent evident, “Pray, do tell us why? You have intrigued us, I daresay.”

“Oh, I do agree with my sister! Mr. Wilmore is not the average shoemaker,” Lady Amiée-Josephine chimed in.

“What makes him so different from any other shoemaker?” Lady Julia asked. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen a dozen.”

“Yes, indeed. I do most of my shopping in London and I can assure you, one shoemaker is the same as nearly any other,” Lady Constance looked down, lifting her gown about two inches to behold her kid leather day slippers. She stared at them for a moment and dropped her gown, unimpressed.

“Mr. Wilmore is the best shoemaker in all of Northampton. His family descends from generations which date back several hundred years. They sew an emblem of my initials inside the tongue of each of my shoes!” Lady Anne-Marie stopped pacing and stepped out of one of her shoes. She held it up for all to view the handiwork.

“Oh how lovely… remarkable! May I have a closer look?” Lady Elizabeth asked as she stood up to inspect the shoe. “We haven’t anyone who does custom work this well in all of Derby Shire.”

“Yes, do look!” Miss Cordelia Higgens pulled one of her shoes off and held it out for everyone to inspect. “He did the same in my shoes. As you know, I reside in Northampton. I only purchase my shoes from Mr. Wilmore. I would never consider anyone else.”

“He sews strands of pearls like fountains springing forth on your day shoes?” Lady Frances set her needlework aside and held Cordelia’s shoe in her hands with her mouth open. “How very exquisite! We haven’t anyone who does work of this caliber in Cornwall.”

“Oh yes, all of my shoes are from Seth Wilmore and absolutely stunning!” Miss Higgens declared.

“’Tis true! Our shoes are a sight to behold!” Lady Margaret confirmed holding up one of her own shoes made by Mr.

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