Daughter of the Loom (Bells of Lowell Book #1) (31 page)

“Would you like to remain in the counting room until we’ve finished?” Matthew offered.

Neva moved forward and took hold of her daughter’s arm. “I don’t think an hour of discomfort will do you any harm, Isabelle. Come along,” she said while giving Isabelle a gentle push toward the steps.

Matthew led them onward until they stood in front of the door to the third floor. “We have drawing and spinning machines in separate areas on this floor. As you can already hear, it’s very noisy. There are drawing machines, where the long slivers from the carding machine are stretched until the ropes are about two inches thick. Those fragile ropes go to the roving machine, where they are drawn out and lengthened still further and given a slight twist, although the fiber is still very weak and breaks easily at this point,” he explained, looking among the three women as he spoke. “Let’s go in and have a look,” he said before pulling open the door and escorting them inside.

Isabelle immediately thrust a finger in each ear. Matthew grimaced while watching her attempt to zigzag through the aisle of machinery, her elbows flapping in midair. Reaching from behind, he grasped her arms and pulled them down. “You need to keep your arms down, or your clothing may get caught in the machinery,” he said while leaning over her shoulder and speaking into her ear.

It seemed the afternoon would never end. Lilly turned off one of the frames, bent over, and removed a row of thread-laden spindles, placing them into a box that one of the young bobbin girls was awaiting. Lilly gave the child a quick smile and began refilling her frame with empty spindles. Her back aching, she finished the chore and stood up, poised to slap the lever into action. Her raised arm, however, stopped in midair. Matthew was a few feet away, leaning toward Isabelle and whispering into her ear. Lilly watched a demure smile play at the corner of Isabelle’s perfectly shaped lips as she glanced over her shoulder toward Matthew. An unexpected knot formed in Lilly’s stomach as she viewed the two of them—Matthew, Kirk Boott’s favored protégé, arm-in-arm with Isabelle Locklear, Boott’s very available niece. Why was the sight of them almost more than Lilly could bear? After all, she no longer cared one whit about Matthew Cheever. She attempted to turn her gaze, but the sight of them held her captive until she realized Matthew was returning her stare. He smiled and began moving toward her with Isabelle following quickly behind.
Exactly what she didn’t want!

“Lilly!” Matthew mouthed her name.

She nodded while reaching into one of the frames to fasten a broken thread. He moved to her side and yelled above the din, “We’re touring the mill. Could we observe you working at your machines?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Lilly pointed toward Thaddeus Arnold. She wanted to scream at him to take his lady friends away from this place—away from her. Instead, with Mr. Arnold’s permission, they gathered around, watching each movement as Lilly tended the frames, their finery a stark reminder of her disheveled hair and shabby dress. Thankfully, they attempted to ask few questions. The older women appeared entranced at the sight of the machinery; Lilly felt entranced with Matthew.

Lilly breathed a sigh of relief when the group finally exited the floor. Matthew had touched her arm and mouthed his thanks before escorting them toward the door. Lilly had continued working, ignoring his overture—angry he had singled her out as an example to his
respectable
friends. The final bell rang, and she hit the four levers and hurried toward the door. Her head throbbed, her arms and legs ached, and Lilly longed for peace and quiet. But there was no place of solitude in the boardinghouse. Perhaps Miss Addie would be happier this evening. The strain of Miss Addie’s cool behavior toward her these past few days had taken its toll. A hint of misery seeped into her step; she missed the older woman and her cheery camaraderie.

Chapter 23

Kirk kissed the cheek his sister offered as the driver completed loading trunks onto the awaiting coach in front of his home. “I really would prefer you wait until after the Christmas holiday for your return to Boston, Neva. You did promise you’d stay with us at least six weeks,” Kirk said while eyeing his niece, who had already seated herself inside the carriage.

Neva held Kirk’s hand momentarily. “I know, and we truly appreciate your hospitality, but under the circumstances . . .”

Kirk nodded his understanding while assisting Neva into the coach. “I’ll be in Boston after the first of the year. I’ll call on you at that time, but please send word immediately if you should need anything before then.”

“You know I will, and please don’t worry. Isabelle will be fine once she’s back in Boston. There will be a flurry of parties for her to attend. You and Anne have a wonderful holiday.”

Kirk motioned to the driver, who immediately flicked the reins and set the horses into motion. Neva waved a gloved hand as they pulled away from the house. Watching until the coach was out of sight, Kirk placed his beaver hat firmly upon his head and headed off toward the Appleton. It was cold, but he decided the brisk air would do him good. Wondering how much of the information Isabelle had related was truth and how much was exaggerated rhetoric due to a deflated ego, he determined a visit with Matthew should set the record straight.

Stomping the mud from his boots before opening the door, Kirk entered the counting room of the Appleton. The ever-watchful Mr. Gault had seen him coming and rushed out to have the gate open for his arrival.
Good man, Gault
, he thought.
Wonder if Matthew’s considered him for a promotion
.

“Ah, there you are, Matthew. I was hoping you’d be in here,” Kirk said as he entered Matthew’s small office and seated himself in the one available chair for guests.

Matthew glanced up from his desk. “What brings you out in this cold, damp weather? Is there a problem at one of the mills?”

“No, nothing so dreadful. Our Boston visitors left a short time ago, and I thought you and I might discuss what happened between you and Isabelle. I don’t mean to appear obtuse, but I’m not sure if she was completely forthright with me. Would you consider telling me exactly what occurred? She seemed positively adamant about returning to Boston immediately.”

Matthew rubbed his forehead and met Kirk’s gaze. “We had a disagreement after she toured the mill. She told me she would never consider living in a small city such as Lowell and that she finds the whole concept of the mills disgusting. She was planning to have you arrange work for me in Boston, and when I told her I had no desire to leave Lowell, she became angry, saying I was attempting to manipulate her. Quite frankly, I think she believed our relationship had developed to a much more serious level than I had yet considered, sir.”

Kirk rose from his chair and walked to the window. He stood with his back toward Matthew. “I suspected as much, although I will tell you that I’m disappointed. I had hoped you and Isabelle would find a common ground, but I know she’s a determined, self-centered young woman. She led me to believe that you had, well, how shall I say it? Treated her with less than proper respect.”

Matthew could feel his heart begin to race. “What? I did no such thing, and I’m shocked that Isabelle would stoop to such tactics. Granted, she was angry when I told her I had no intention of making my home in Boston or of an imminent marriage, but I thought we parted with a mutual understanding that we weren’t compatible. She even spoke of a man in Boston who had recently proposed to her,” Matthew explained. “I hope you believe that I would never do anything to compromise any woman. It’s not who I am nor what I believe in.”

Kirk turned around and faced Matthew. “I suspected Isabelle hoped you would be the recipient of my wrath. Isabelle doesn’t take rejection easily.”

The subject of Isabelle was soon discarded for talk of production and expansion, with Kirk spending the greater share of the afternoon in Matthew’s office. By the time Kirk started toward home, he knew hiring Matthew had been an excellent decision. There was no doubt the Associates needed Matthew more than Isabelle did. And besides, they would appreciate him more.

****

Rather than sit with the other girls, Lilly prepared a plate of food and carried it into Addie’s bedroom. “Have you eaten?” she asked Nadene, who was propped up in bed reading a book.

“Yes. And I’ve talked to Miss Addie, too. I know why she’s upset with you.”

Lilly moved to the edge of her chair. “Why?”

“It seems that Miss Mintie was on her way to a meeting the night you and John Farnsworth met to shop for Miss Addie’s birthday present.”

“What difference does
that
make?”

Nadene gave her a look of exasperation. “I’m going to tell you, if you’ll give me a minute. Miss Mintie saw you two together, and she couldn’t wait to tell Miss Addie. Mintie has convinced her sister that Mr. Farnsworth is romantically interested in you and that you’ve betrayed her by alienating Mr. Farnsworth’s affections.”

“Oh my! How could Miss Addie believe such nonsense? Mr. Farnsworth is old enough to be my father.”

Nadene scooched up a little farther and leaned against her pillow. “I know, but I think Miss Mintie has succeeded in winning her over. Why don’t you go and talk to her after supper when she’s alone in the kitchen?”

Lilly agreed that a private discussion with Miss Addie would be best. “Will you pray with me?” she asked Nadene. “I want to be able to tell Miss Addie the truth without ruining her birthday surprise, but most of all I want to restore our friendship. I can’t do that unless she trusts me. I fear I won’t find the right words.”

“Let’s pray that God will give you the perfect words to set things right. I’m certain God wants your relationship restored, too.”

Lilly gave her friend a smile. “Thank you, Nadene. I think you’re right—the words do need to come from the Lord.”

An hour later, bolstered by the time she and Nadene had spent in prayer, Lilly walked into the kitchen and offered to help with the supper dishes.

“I would think you have other things of more importance, perhaps a gentleman caller to go shopping with in town,” Miss Addie replied as she picked up a worn dish towel and began drying a plate.

“We need to talk about gentlemen callers, Miss Addie. Nadene told me what you believe—about John Farnsworth and me—and none of it is true.”

Miss Addie wheeled around and glowered. “You expect me to believe my sister
didn’t
see you in town with John Farnsworth? Mintie is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

Lilly wanted to pull back her words. After all that prayer, she’d still said the wrong thing. “I misspoke. The part about there being any romantic involvement is totally false. We were in town together. I was assisting him with a purchase—for a friend. We stopped in several shops and then came back home.” Lilly paused before continuing. “Miss Addie, John Farnsworth is old enough to be my father. Surely you don’t think I could have feelings for him. He’s a kind and generous man—a wonderful suitor for you. But certainly not for me. And even if Mr. Farnsworth were a man who captivated my interest, I would never seek his affections when I know that you find him . . .”

“The most wonderful man on earth?” Addie concluded, a blush rising to her cheeks.

Lilly smiled. “Exactly! Miss Addie, I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you or destroy our friendship. I love you,” Lilly said, the words fighting their way around the lump that had risen in her throat.

“Come here, child,” Addie said, beckoning Lilly into a warm embrace. “I’ve missed you, too, more than you can imagine. I must tell you that Mintie’s words were very convincing. I had hoped that young Matthew Cheever would come calling and assuage my fears. When that didn’t occur, I thought you were probably meeting John on the sly so I wouldn’t suspect.”

As if on cue, Prudence rushed into the kitchen. “You have a caller in the parlor, Lilly—a gentleman,” she announced with a broad grin.

“Not John Farnsworth?” Addie inquired, then quickly placed a hand over her mouth. “I’m merely jesting, Lilly.”

“No, much younger and much more handsome,” Prudence replied. “Guess!”

“I certainly hope it isn’t my brother,” Lilly replied. “Lewis is the
last
person I want to deal with this evening.”

Prudence crossed her arms and gave Lilly a scowl. “Well, personally, I’d love to see Lewis, but I’ve not seen him for several days. It’s Matthew Cheever.”

“Speak of the devil,” Lilly muttered. “Please tell Matthew I’m busy this evening,” she said to Prudence, then turned to pick up the dish towel. Miss Addie was staring at her with a question in her eyes. If Addie’s suspicions about John Farnsworth and Lilly were going to be laid to rest, Lilly knew she must see Matthew. “Pay me no mind, Prudence. I’ll be into the parlor momentarily. I’m tired and didn’t want Matthew to see me looking so disheveled, but I doubt he’ll even notice.”

“Don’t keep him waiting, or one of the other girls will soon have his attention,” Prudence warned as she left the kitchen.

Lilly forced her lips into a bright smile and tucked a loose curl behind one ear. “You see, Miss Addie? Matthew has been quite busy. Mr. Boott has had relatives in town, and Matthew has been required to spend his evening hours at the Boott residence. Otherwise, I’m sure he would have been here.”

“I do apologize, dear. I allowed my mind to conjure up all sorts of wild ideas. Do forgive me,” she asked, placing her plump arm around Lilly’s waist.

“Of course you’re forgiven.”

“You need to give your cheeks a pinch. You need a little more color,” Addie instructed as Lilly walked out of the room.

Matthew was standing in the doorway, holding her cape. “I thought we could walk into town,” he said as she neared him.

“Do you have Isabelle’s permission?” she asked, immediately scolding herself once the words were out. She sounded like a jealous lover worried about competition for her beau.

Matthew grinned as he held out her cape and escorted her out the door. “You have nothing to fear from Isabelle. Isabelle and I have nothing in common; we’re totally unsuited.”