Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) (18 page)

****

Thaddeus Arnold’s icy stare had remained fixed upon Lilly for several days. At first she hoped it was merely her imagination. But when he slithered off his chair and began walking near her machines several times each day, she realized he was playing a game, stalking his quarry as he watched and waited. His beady eyes appeared to dance with pleasure when he noted her discomfort.

Lilly could only assume Mr. Arnold was hoping to find fault with her work as he strutted back and forth checking her bobbins. He would draw close, his breath hot on her neck as he stood behind her, and then silently he would retreat. That is, until yesterday when he approached from behind, leaned in, and allowed his body to come up against her while he pretended to examine her roving, telling her he expected her to be present at the Lighting Up Ball.

She had remained silent, giving no indication of the repulsion that raged within her. The incident, however, was catalogued among Lilly’s memories, now added to her mounting list of grievances against the Associates. By week’s end, Thaddeus had apparently grown bored of the game and was once again settled on his perch, a vulture carefully eyeing his prey.

Lilly knew deep thankfulness when Saturday finally arrived. As she and Nadene left the mill yard at the end of another long day, she took satisfaction in knowing she need not face Thaddeus Arnold the next day. “He knows it was me,” Lilly said, locking arms with Nadene as they walked down the street.

“No he doesn’t. There is no way he can know for sure. He can’t see through the walls. He doesn’t even know where you sleep—only that you board with Miss Addie.”

Lilly stopped in her tracks and pulled Nadene to a halt. “Haven’t you been watching him this week? The way he’s been coming around me? And those evil beady eyes, always watching me. He knows. One day he’ll say something. I’m sure of it.”

Nadene giggled. “I’m sorry, but you sound so dramatic. You need to put this whole thing out of your mind.”

Anger welled up inside Lilly. “You would think it was serious, too, if he constantly watched you.” She hesitated a moment. “Yesterday he leaned up against me. Do you think I should overlook that, also?”

Nadene’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened in astonishment.

“I don’t know why you would be surprised by his actions; he’s always handling other girls. He said I’d best be in attendance at the Lighting Up Ball. I’m sure he will find some way to humiliate me if I do attend the ball. If I don’t make an appearance, I’m certain he’ll find a reason to have me terminated.”

Nadene looped her arm back through Lilly’s as they began walking once again. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed at you. I didn’t think Mr. Arnold would take things so far. Why don’t you talk to Matthew Cheever and see if you can be transferred to the Merrimack? Surely he would help you.”

“Ask Matthew to bestow a favor upon me? I think not.” Lilly cringed inwardly at the thought. She’d told Nadene a little about her past with Matthew. Nadene thought there should be a reconciliation between them, and no doubt she thought this would be a good way to rekindle their communication.

“You can ill afford to become filled with pride right now,” Nadene cautioned. “If Mr. Arnold has become bold enough to—”

Lilly stood squarely in front of Nadene, blocking her entry into the boardinghouse. “I don’t want anyone else to know about what’s happened at the mill. Promise you won’t tell.”

“I promise, but I think you’re making a big mistake,” Nadene replied. “Why not talk to Miss Addie at least? She would keep your confidence, and perhaps she’d have some ideas.”

Lilly shook her head as they entered the house. “No, I don’t want her to think I’m depending on her to resolve the problem with Mr. Arnold, because I’m not. Besides, she’d worry herself sick.”

“Well, who are you relying on?” Nadene whispered.

Lilly placed her bonnet and cape on one of the hooks beside the front door. “God, Nadene. I’m relying on God.”

Chapter 13

Making her way down the steps and into the kitchen, Lilly smiled at Miss Addie, who was carefully assembling a plate of cookies.

“I thought it might be a nice gesture if I took some cookies to Mintie when we join her for tea,” Addie remarked. “Did you enjoy the church services this morning?”

“The church services were fine,” Lilly replied without much enthusiasm. “Taking cookies is a lovely idea, Miss Addie. I’m sure your sister will beg for the recipe once she’s tasted them.”

Addie beamed at the praise. “I know you’d prefer to spend your afternoon visiting with the girls or going for a walk. You’re always so kind and generous.”

Lilly blushed. If only Miss Addie knew her private thoughts regarding Thaddeus Arnold and the Boston Associates, she’d not think her either kind or generous. “Taking tea with Miss Mintie won’t consume my whole afternoon. Besides, there will be ample time for a walk or other frivolity later in the day. Let me carry the plate,” Lilly offered.

Mintie greeted them at the door, her smile fading somewhat as she glanced toward the plate of cookies. “Did you think I wouldn’t provide you with a proper tea?”

Before Addie had an opportunity to reply, Lilly thrust the plate forward. “Addie was certain you would prepare a sumptuous tea tray, but I insisted we bring the cookies. My mother taught me it was good manners to take a small hostess gift when visiting friends and relatives. Since you are both a friend
and
relative . . .”

Taking the extended plate, Mintie led them into the parlor. “Oh, tut, tut, we don’t need to make an issue over a few cookies. I’m sure they’ll make a nice addition to our tea,” Mintie conceded, gracing Lilly with a tentative smile. She directed them toward the settee before fluttering into the kitchen.

“Thank you, Lilly, but you shouldn’t have told a falsehood,” Addie whispered. She hesitated a moment. “Of course, I should have corrected your falsehood, so I’m as guilty as you. I believe we’re both in need of forgiveness—and over something as simple as a plate of cookies!”

“I didn’t tell a total falsehood. My mother
did
teach me that it was proper etiquette to take a gift when visiting,” Lilly whispered with a smile.

Mintie returned with the teapot and cups. Lucy, the little ten-year-old doffer who assisted as Miss Mintie’s part-time servant, followed close behind carrying a tray laden with tiny sandwiches and delicacies. Lucy placed the tray on a small serving cart, then backed against the wall, although she continued to stare at the food with ravenous eyes.

“All of the men except for that Englishman have gone out for the afternoon,” Mintie commented in a hushed tone while pouring hot tea into three cups. She handed each of them a small china plate. “Try these sandwiches, Adelaide,” Mintie instructed her sister. “Go on. Get out of here, Lucy,” she continued, waving at the child as though she were shooing away an insect.

“I believe this would be an excellent opportunity to teach Lucy how to conduct herself among genteel women. My mother insisted it was best to learn proper etiquette at an early age,” Lilly put in.

Mintie stared at Lilly, mouth agape. “I don’t think a serving girl need know how to conduct herself at tea. What earthly purpose would be served? Lucy is certainly never going to marry into proper society.”

“If she knows how tea is to be conducted, it will teach her how to properly serve at those times when you wish to merely enjoy your guests,” Lilly countered. “Come here, Lucy. We’d like you to join us for tea. That way you can better serve Miss Beecher’s guests in the future.” Lilly patted the empty cushion beside her.

The child looked back and forth between the two women and then quickly darted to where Lilly was sitting. The temptation of the food had won out, as Lilly knew it would. “You must pay heed to Miss Beecher’s training as you take tea,” Lilly instructed, looking toward Mintie for affirmation.

Mintie’s spectacles slipped down the bridge of her nose as her head dipped up and down in agreement. “Take a plate and watch,” Mintie said to the child.

Once they had filled their plates, Mintie began pouring Lucy’s tea into a matching china cup. She turned toward the child, her eyes steely pinpoints. “Conversation at a tea is not to be repeated. That is your second lesson. Do you understand?”

The child’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “Yes, ma’am. I won’t hear a thing you ladies say.”

Mintie gave an affirming nod before directing her attention back toward Addie and Lilly. She leaned forward with her long nose almost dipping into the teacup that was resting in her hand. “I’m growing more concerned by the minute,” she confided in a hoarse whisper. “That Farnsworth fellow has received several letters from Lancashire, and there have been strange men at the front door on three different occasions. I have no doubt he is a spy determined to assist in the downfall of this country.”

Lilly stifled a giggle. “I think you’re being a bit dramatic, Miss Beecher. I’m sure Mr. Farnsworth is merely becoming acquainted with some of his fellow Englishmen. His visitors are probably men who work at the mills and live on the English Row.”

Mintie straightened her shoulders and pursed her lips into a circle. “I suppose that is why they speak in hushed tones and grow silent when I approach?”

“Perhaps they merely want their privacy,” Addie suggested.

“I can see you two are cut from the same cloth, neither one of you willing to open your eyes to the—”

“Good afternoon, ladies.”

They all looked toward the doorway at the sound of a man’s voice. “We’re taking tea, Mr. Farnsworth,” Mintie declared.

He walked into the room and stood near the settee. “I can see that, Miss Mintie.”

Mintie’s lips tightened into a straight line. She curled the corner of her linen napkin and then watched as it rolled back into place. Finally she cleared her throat and looked up at the man. “John Farnsworth, one of my boarders,” she said, looking toward Addie and Lilly. “Mr. Farnsworth, this is my sister, Miss Adelaide Beecher, and one of her boarders, Miss Lilly Armbruster.”

He bowed his head and extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Beecher and Miss Armbruster.”

The color heightened in Addie’s cheeks. “Would you care to join us, Mr. Farnsworth?” She appeared besotted with the tall stranger. Mintie, however, was momentarily speechless, obviously shocked at her sister’s behavior.

Mr. Farnsworth folded his large frame into the chair beside Addie. “I would be delighted,” he replied.

Mintie leveled an icy glare at her sister before turning toward Mr. Farnsworth. “You need not feel obligated to accept my sister’s invitation, Mr. Farnsworth. I’m sure you have more important things to do this afternoon.”

He picked up a teacup and extended it toward Mintie. “Not at all. Tea on a Sunday afternoon is more than I had hoped for.”

“More than I had hoped for, also,” Mintie mumbled under her breath. She poured his tea and sent Lucy scampering off to the kitchen to set another kettle of water to boil. The child returned to the parlor as a knock sounded at the front door. “See to the door, Lucy. Most likely it’s one of Mr. Farnsworth’s acquaintances.”

Lucy nodded her head and rushed from the room, returning moments later with Matthew Cheever in tow. “Mr. Cheever said he came to call on Mr. Farnsworth. I told him Mr. Farnsworth was taking tea with us, so he could come have tea with us, too,” the child proudly announced.

Mintie expelled an extended breath from between pursed lips and crooked her finger. Lucy moved directly in front of her mistress. “Lucy, for some reason I believed that
I
was the hostess of this gathering.”

Lucy looked down at the floor, her thick brown hair falling forward and covering her oval face. “You are, ma’am. I’m sorry,” she muttered.

Addie strained forward and touched Lucy’s arm. “Well, I, for one, am very proud of your behavior, Lucy. You exhibited excellent manners by inviting Mr. Cheever to join us for tea. One must never make a guest feel unwelcome. Isn’t that correct, Mintie?” Without waiting for a reply, Addie shifted her gaze toward Matthew. “You have the rare opportunity of joining us for Lucy’s etiquette lesson, Mr. Cheever. Do sit down.”

Lilly was pleased Addie had rescued the child from Mintie’s clutches. However, she wished Addie had stopped short before inviting Matthew to take a seat. There was no way to gracefully escape the group, which was increasing by the minute. Mr. Farnsworth and Addie were now in a discussion. Mintie was busy instructing Lucy how to properly pour Matthew’s tea, and Lilly was fidgeting with the pleats of her skirt.

“Lovely day,” Matthew ventured.

“Yes, but I must soon return to the boardinghouse. I have several matters that need my attention this afternoon. I must say it was quite a surprise to see you enter the room. Do you often visit your employees at their boardinghouses?” Lilly inquired.

“Not often, but I consider John a friend as well as an employee. I stopped by to offer him an invitation to dinner next Sunday. I’ve expressed such admiration for John that my parents are both anxious to meet him, Father in particular.”

Lilly finished her tea and handed the empty cup to Lucy, whose cheeks now resembled those of a squirrel preparing to store food for the winter. “You like the cookies?” Lilly asked with a warm smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” the child mumbled, a few crumbs slipping through her lips.

“I do, too. Which are your favorites?” Lilly inquired.

Mintie watched as Lucy pointed to the cherry-flavored shortbread cookies. “It’s impolite to point
or
to talk with your mouth full,” Mintie corrected in a stern tone.

“I don’t believe she offended any of us,” Lilly commented. “She liked your cookies, Miss Addie. You’ll have to give your sister your recipe. I’m sure she’ll want to make some soon.”

“Those were my favorite, also,” John Farnsworth commented. “In fact, I think I’ll have another.”

“You have as many as you’d like. In fact, I’ll leave the plate, and you can have some this evening,” Addie replied.

“Only if he promises to share them with Lucy and me,” Matthew chimed in, helping himself to another of the buttery cookies. He turned toward Lilly and in a hoarse whisper added, “Unless you’d like to bake a special batch just for me some day soon.”