Love Finds You in Prince Edward Island Page 10

  Molly hurried around the edge of the room to her side. “May I assist you, madam?”

  “It seems my husband stepped on my hem out on the steps. Have you anything—?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ve a needle and thread in the other room. Would you like to come with me?”

  She led the lady to the retiring room and opened the sewing box. It took Molly only a few minutes to fix the stitching in the hem of the lady’s gown. Strains of a stirring march came from the drawing room.

  Molly knotted her thread and cut it off. “There, I believe that will hold until you are able to tend to it more thoroughly.”

  “You’ve been very helpful.” The woman slipped a coin into Molly’s hand.

  Molly’s cheeks flushed warm. “Oh, there’s no need—”

  “You earned it.” The lady stood and examined her reflection in the looking glass beside the door. “I can’t even tell where the repair is. Thank you.” She bustled out into the hall.

  Molly turned down the lamp and followed. The band was playing another number when she slid back into the room and stood against the wall. A gentleman sitting near the back raised an empty glass, and Milton stepped to his side to take it away. The Earl of Washburn, Molly noted. Milton apparently asked if he wanted another drink, but the earl shook his head and turned his attention to the band. Molly noticed Peter sitting on the other side of the earl. He glanced at Milton and then beyond to where Molly stood. Molly’s stomach flipped. Peter gave her a slight nod and what might have been the tiniest smile.

  She looked away quickly lest anyone else should notice, but throughout the music and Mrs. MacReady’s stirring performance, she felt a glow of contentment. While she wasn’t a member of the elite party, Molly thoroughly enjoyed her evening. She managed to avoid Emmet and his mother during their departure.

  When she left the governor’s house just before midnight, the stars gleamed overhead. For a while at least, the clouds had parted. Since Allison, her usual companion, had not stayed to help serve, Molly walked alone through the shadowy streets. She pulled her shawl close about her, against the cool breeze wafting off the bay. Turning onto the next street, she spotted a lone figure leaning against a lamppost.

  Her neck prickled, and she hesitated. Although this was the most direct route home, it might be better to retrace her steps and take another way—but that would involve walking through a more isolated area.

  As she faltered, the man detached himself from the lamppost and walked toward her.

  “Molly?”

  “Nathan!” Relief coursed through her. She hurried to her brother and seized his arm. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mama was worried about you.”

  “I told her I’d be late.”

  “Yes, but she didn’t think you meant this late.”

  Molly’s legs felt as if they’d melted, but she slid her hand into the crook of Nathan’s arm and kept pace as he led her rapidly toward the road leading out of town. The strain of the long day had brought on a wobbly fatigue. She could picture Mum watching out the kitchen window for her and growing more and more uneasy.

  “I’m sorry. I thought I could leave after dinner was served, but one of the other maids was ill. Mrs. Bolton asked me at the last minute to take her place and tend to the ladies who came for the evening.”

  “Ah. I’m sorry you had to do that.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Molly grinned up at him. “I’ll get extra wages, and I got to hear Mrs. MacReady recite.”

  “Who is Mrs. MacReady?”

  Molly’s laugh tumbled out over the dark bushes on the side of the road. “She’s a very famous woman who gives readings and recitations for the rich and indolent.”

  “Well, now. An actress, you mean?”

  “No, no! She’s quite a lady, and well respected. And the band, Nathan! The prince’s regimental band goes everywhere with him. Did you know that?”

  “I can’t say I did.”

  “They’re marvelous musicians.”

  “I’ve heard his entire regiment is camping on the outskirts of town.”

  “Yes, one hundred men. They form his honor guard.”

  “I hope they aren’t making trouble in town.”

  “I doubt it. They were kept late at Government House too. But I heard the Earl of Washburn remark that it’s sometimes hard to find transport for them all.”

  “You saw the earl?” Nathan stopped for a moment, staring down at her.

  “Well, yes. I didn’t speak to him, of course, but he was in the gathering in the drawing room this afternoon. That’s when I heard him talking. He was at the dinner tonight too, but I wasn’t stationed near him then.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “He seems a proper gentleman. And Mr. Stark—that’s his man—seems to think highly of him.”

  “Hmm.”

  Molly squinted at him in the starlight. “It wasn’t him, you know.”

  “What wasn’t who?”

  “The one Grandpa Anson had his quarrel with.”

  “Oh, I know. But still…”

  Molly began walking again. “So anyway, they had to engage an entire steamship just to bring the soldiers and all their equipment and the band instruments over from New Brunswick.”

  Nathan shook his head. “What a lot of money we’re spending.”

  “We? The Crown is paying for the regimental escort, I think. Or perhaps the provincial government is paying part.”

  “Ah, yes, the government pays for everything—but as Papa says, we are the government. That is, Papa and Grandpa and all the other taxpayers.”

  “I suppose so, but it’s much more pleasant not to think of that.”

  He squeezed her hand. “Well, I’m glad they’re paying your wages. You don’t have to be back at six o’clock in the morning, I hope?”

  “I thought so, but on my way out, I was told to arrive by nine.”

  “Well, good. They realize you need some sleep.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Nothing.” Molly didn’t want to reveal her conversation with Peter Stark to Nathan, but she did wish they’d hit upon a better plan. How would she get the top hat from Mr. Stark, and how would she get it to her grandfather in time for the levee at eleven the next morning?

  “So what does the prince look like?” Nathan asked.

  A much safer topic. Molly launched into a glowing report of the young heir to the throne, for the most part repeating what she’d heard other people say about him. But as they strode along the North River Road, the problem that still badgered her was that of the sociable hat and the handsome young man who owned it.

  Finally, when they turned in at the farm lane, she stopped and tugged Nathan’s arm so that he stopped, too, and peered down at her in the meager moonlight.

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve something to tell Papa and Mum, and I’m not sure how to explain it to them. Perhaps if I tell you first, you’ll know what to do.”

  “Now, that sounds ominous. What’s it all about?” Nathan tipped his head toward his shoulder and waited.

  Molly pulled in a deep breath. “It’s about a hat.”

  Chapter Nine

  “What’s this about you borrowing clothing from a tony gentleman?”

  Molly paused on the bottom step and drew a deep breath before stepping into the farmhouse kitchen. She hadn’t expected to face her father’s inquisition as soon as she got up in the morning. Nathan must have shared their midnight conversation with her parents before he went out to milk the cows.

  Papa sat at the table with a bowl of porridge and a cup of tea before him. Mum was busy at the worktable already, rolling out a pastry crust, but she glanced Molly’s way with a frown.

  “It’s only a hat, Papa,” Molly said. “Mr. Stark won’t be wearing it this morning, and he offered—”

  “How is it you’re so friendly with this man that he would offer the use of his personal belongings?”

&n
bsp; Molly’s cheeks began to burn. She stepped down onto the bare boards of the kitchen floor and walked slowly to the stove, where the teakettle steamed. “I had to serve last night, you know, Papa. After dinner, when Mrs. Bolton had asked me to tend to the ladies, I was going to the drawing room and Mr. Stark was out in the hall. He spoke to me and asked if my family were attending the levee.”

  Her father grunted. “So you volunteered that we were too poor to own a proper hat.”

  “Not exactly, but… Oh, Papa, no matter what I say, you won’t be pleased, I’m afraid. You don’t approve of Mr. Stark, but that’s because you don’t know him.”

  “And you do?”

  Molly sighed. She seemed to be digging her rut deeper and deeper. “No. I don’t know him well at all. He’s spoken to me a couple of times, and I served him dinner. His inquiry was polite, as a guest might ask a servant at the end of a long day—‘Do you enjoy working here?’ ‘How is your family?’ ”

  “It sounds to me as though you gave him overmuch detail about your family.”

  “David,” her mother said softly.

  He swung around and arched his eyebrows at her. “What, Liza? You don’t want our daughter forming a connection with some Englishman we know nothing about.”

  “No, of course not. But our Molly is a sensible girl. She wouldn’t throw her heart about willy-nilly. She must be kind and polite to the governor’s guests, though.”

  “Well, I don’t like it.”

  As Papa spoke, the door to the dairy opened and Grandpa walked in carrying a pail half full of milk. “Don’t like what, lad?”

  “This business of Mr. Stark telling Molly he’ll lend her his top hat for you to wear.”

  Grandpa set his bucket down and straightened, putting his hands to the small of his back. “Well, now, I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth if I were you.”

  Molly donned a calico apron over the black dress she would wear to Government House and poured herself a cup of tea. “Papa, I promise you, I shall behave decorously.”

  He grunted and lifted his cup to his lips.

  “And how am I supposed to get this fabled hat, lass?” Grandpa asked.

  Molly frowned. “I’m not certain. He didn’t say exactly how he would get it to me. I told him I would arrive early today, but that was before I knew how late I’d be getting home or that Mrs. Bolton would tell me to go in later than my usual hour.”

  “Nathan could walk in with you and wait outside the grounds,” her mother said.

  Molly gave her a grateful smile. “That might be best. But if I can’t get it straightaway, he might have to wait a long time.”

  Grandpa shrugged. “If he waits until eleven o’clock and you haven’t brought it to him, we’ll be there waiting to go in and be presented to His Royal Highness, won’t we, David?”

  Papa set his cup down. “I suppose we shall, Da. If you think we dare to go in our rustic attire.”

  Grandpa scowled and scratched his chin through his white beard. “We’ll have to wear our regular hats. And if they won’t let us in, I shall have to devise another way to see the earl, that’s all.”

  Peter set down his satchel and leaned against one of the columns in the front portico of the governor’s mansion, looking out toward the sea. He hadn’t spotted Molly among the scurrying maids this morning, and he hated to ask for her. He was well aware of the problems a person from “upstairs” could bring on by showing particular interest in a servant.

  Still, barely two hours remained before the levee. He’d gone over the arrangements with St. Germains and Newcastle this morning, and already farmers and shopkeepers were collecting outside the gates. He’d seen it before—people would stand in line for hours for a glimpse of Queen Victoria or a member of her family. The show of loyalty and devotion to the Crown would be gratifying to the royal family, but Peter couldn’t help pitying the islanders. The sky was again clouding up.

  He picked up the satchel, walked down the front steps, and strolled around the side of the house. Perhaps he could catch Molly at the back entrance that led to the kitchen and the laundry.

  He wandered about the rear gardens, taking his time admiring the flower beds, the shrubbery, and even the kitchen garden. Soon he would have to go inside and change his clothes for the levee and see if the earl needed his assistance. He hoped he’d made the right decision when he put one of the earl’s coats in the bag along with his own formal hat. If Washburn asked for that particular coat, he’d have to explain that it wasn’t available—but he had already laid out a different one. The one he’d chosen for Molly’s grandfather was an older, less fashionable cutaway coat His Lordship rarely wore. Peter felt quite secure in borrowing it for Molly. At least he had an hour ago. Now he wondered if everything would fly to pieces.

  He paced toward the house and back out to the flower beds again. The gardener, the fellow the Dundases called the “useful man,” and two young boys were setting up an awning for Mrs. Dundas’s afternoon party. He eyed the gray sky and hoped they had several. If not for his quest, he’d have gone to help them, but then he might miss his chance to see Molly. With any luck, no one would question his hovering about the back garden.

  At last his patience was rewarded. One of the maids came out the door lugging a large basket. He dropped the leather bag and hurried to her.

  “Let me help you with that, miss.”

  She glanced up at him, wide-eyed. “Oh no, sir. I’ll be fine.”

  “That wet laundry in your basket must be heavy. I don’t mind. Just tell me where you’d like it.” He reached for the handles, and she surrendered the burden to him.

  “Well then…thank you, sir. ’Tis yonder, through that trellis arch.”

  He followed her into a prosaic portion of the grounds he hadn’t seen before. Here were the clotheslines and a compost pile. Peter set the basket down beneath the nearest clothesline. The young woman looked familiar—Peter had seen her laying out breakfast this morning.

  “Are you Molly’s friend, by any chance?”

  She stared at him. “Yes, sir. I’m Allison. We’ve known each other since we were tykes.”

  Peter smiled. “Ah. Then perhaps you can help me.”

  Allison smiled back. “Why, yes, sir, I expect I can.”

  “Psst.”

  Molly looked about, startled. From behind a large vase holding a potted plant, Allison beckoned to her. As Molly started toward her, Allison darted down the hallway and turned toward the laundry. Just outside the door to the busy room where scrubbing went on nearly all day, she stopped. Molly hurried closer to her.

  “What’s going on?”

  “That gentleman is looking for you.”

  “Mr. Stark?”

  Allison nodded, her eyes glittering. “He said he has something for you. You can find him in the small breakfast room.”

  Molly squeezed her friend’s arm. “Thank you so much!”

  She hurried off, knowing Allison would be frustrated that she didn’t explain, but she needed to see him as quickly as possible. The levee would begin in an hour. She still felt accepting Mr. Stark’s offer a bit daring and somehow improper, but Grandpa had been so pleased that she couldn’t refuse now.

  She ducked through the grand hall, where Mrs. Dundas was speaking to the butler about the exact manner in which he was to keep the vast array of company under control—with help from a couple of the visiting gentlemen. No one looked her way, and she scurried around the corner and out of their sight.

  At the doorway to the breakfast room, she hesitated. She heard no voices within, and she peeked cautiously around the jamb.

  “Molly! At last. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find you in time.” Peter’s crooked smile sent a telling blow to her heart. He was more handsome than she’d remembered, and he had a boyish enthusiasm she was sure would charm anyone—even her parents, should they ever have the chance to meet him.

  “Allison told me.” She stepped into the room.

  Peter held
out a leather satchel. “I’m most grateful to her. I’ve been shuffling this about for an hour and a half.”

  “I’m sorry. They had me come in late, and when I arrived I was put right to work at setting up the drawing room.”

  “Not your fault, and it’s no matter. But I wanted to be certain you got this and your granddad could feel himself well-turned-out when he’s presented.”

  “I know he will. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

  “There’s a coat in there too. If he can’t use it—”

  “I’m sure he can. How very kind of you. My brother was to wait outside, to one side on the street, to see if I was successful in getting the hat. I must run out and give this to Nathan so he can take it to Grandpa.”

  “Make sure you get back quickly so you won’t be missed.”

  Odd, that a gentleman would think of that. He seemed almost as concerned about her as her family would be.

  “I will. Pardon me for being so hasty.”

  “Go.”

  His smile warmed her as she dashed back down the passageway, along the edge of the great hall beneath the gallery—praying that no one in authority would notice her and call her name—and down the hall leading to the laundry again. She would be less conspicuous if she went out through the kitchen garden. It would take her longer to go the back way, but she ought to be able to reach the street without being seen.

  Her heart pounded, more from the giver’s smile than from her exertion. Mr. Stark had joined the conspiracy almost as if they were friends—as if he genuinely liked her and cared about her grandpa and his quest, though he knew nothing about her or her family.

  What would happen if he did know? What if he learned why Grandpa Anson wanted to see the Earl of Washburn? Would he be as friendly then? She gulped and ran along a path through the wood behind the mansion to a small gate in the wall.

  Nathan stood at the appointed place, leaning against the wall and watching the island’s men flock toward Government House in their best clothes.

  As Molly pulled the gate open, he whirled toward her. “You got it!”

  “Yes.” She placed the satchel in his hands and stood panting. “A top hat and a coat. I do hope they fit. Where are Papa and Grandpa?”