A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(46)
In truth, Verity was more than perplexed, she was dumbfounded at the change that had come over her mother this last week. It was almost as if she had never known her before. Her eyes were brighter, her bearing was more cheerful and, only two days since she had first mooted the idea, she was full of optimism about living in Kensington.
“See, my dear, it is almost rural here, though but a short ride into town,” she had said happily yesterday. “And neighbours so close, not like at Kennet End, where if we see anyone from one day to the next it is only John and Selina or Reverend Milsom.”
Verity wanted to tell her they would have nearer neighbours at Furze House, but she didn’t know how to deal with Mama in this strange new mood. Was this her natural state? One her marriage had suppressed? It was plain Mr Tweedie found little difference in her to the Miss Harrington he had known twenty years before.
She was so confused. If Charles had been there yesterday, she would have perhaps worked out her own feelings by explaining to him that though she was happy for her mother if this was the life she wanted, it would never be the life for her. She would have to frame her letter in such a way that he called on them to hear the substance of it. She missed him. Things always seemed clearer after she had talked to him.
The hackney carriage slowed to a stop. Fred Grimes took the fare with thanks, then asked if he should wait.
“That would be very kind, but we might be half an hour.”
“It’s no matter to me. I’ve paid off what I borrowed for my poor wife’s medicines, not that they did her any good in the end. I was determined to do it, even if it near crippled me. I’m just marking time now, if you take my meaning.”
They went into the warehouse. Julia linked arms with her friend. “I daresay if you sat up beside him you would have his whole history by the time we were home.”
“Do not be superior, Julia. You know very well you do exactly the same with all the high-flown society people you meet. Think of Peter Crisp and tell me it isn’t so.”
“People’s lives are interesting.”
“So I think too. We are simply interested in different spheres.”
Necessary purchases made, Julia sighed. “I am so tired of not having any of my allowance left. I dearly wish I could afford a new bonnet. I will have to trim an old one afresh instead.”
Verity turned in the act of climbing back into the hackney carriage. “Do you want to go to one of the bazaars? It is very frivolous and not at all a rational use of our time, but I do think some pretty ribbon for my grey cambric would cheer it up. Pink, perhaps, or a nice cerise? Respectful colours are so depressing.”
Fred Grimes cleared his throat. “Would the Soho Bazaar suit your purpose, miss?”
“The very place!” said Julia, brightening.
“Where is that, Mr Grimes?” asked Verity at the same time. “I have not heard of it.”
“Opened last year, miss. It’s for widows and daughters of soldiers to sell millinery and trimmings and suchlike. Mr Trotter, he only charges thruppence for a foot of counter, so all the women share the shop and can make their pieces at home and then sell them. Over a hundred of them there are.”
Verity beamed at him. “What a splendid idea. Please do take us there. You see, Julia, this is the sort of aim I had in mind for Furze House. A place where everyone can work together. No one bears the whole burden.”
Soho Square itself was formed of well-proportioned houses, but there were so many carriages waiting that the hackney was obliged to stop some way away from the bazaar.
“Do not wait,” said Verity. “It will take us a deal of time to go around.”
“I’ll bide until I get another fare. If I’m not here when you come out, another hackney will be along.”
“Always assuming we can afford one by then,” replied Verity. “My friend has a tremendous eye for a bargain, never more so than when she is laying out somebody else’s money.”
Despite the accuracy of this prophesy, there remained a few coins in Verity’s purse when they emerged. This was largely, as she pointed out, because she had refused to lend her friend the money for an embroidered reticule in forget-me-not blue silk the exact colour of Julia’s eyes when she knew perfectly well Julia had another two of that same shade at home. Her friend replied that they were not at all the same blue and Verity was hard-hearted indeed not to have indulged her.
Walking nearly two sides around the square in quest of Mr Grimes, with their arms full of parcels and their attention on the argument, they did not see a gentleman emerge from one of the houses and descend the steps. The ensuing scene was just as one might have predicted.
As parcels flew in all directions and Julia ricocheted off the unfortunate gentleman to trip and fall, Verity found her arms pinned to her sides for one outraged second before she was released and the gentleman was helping Julia up.
“I do beg your pardon,” said Julia, directing the full force of an anxious, repentant smile at him. “That was entirely our own fault. Pray do not let us detain you. I hope you are not hurt?”
There was good reason why Julia had always been the one to open the apologies whenever they had got into a youthful scrape. The gentleman, though he clearly considered himself the most important person in the street, gave her a single appraising look, murmured ‘not at all’ and directed a footman to gather up their fallen possessions before stepping up into his curricle and nodding for his groom to pull away.