voice level. ‘Is this just one or two suppliers, Tom? Or all of them?’
His relief was visible. She felt a pang of mingled hurt and amusement that he should have feared she would fall into hysterics. Did he really not know her better than that? Then her sense of fairness asserted itself. Never before had he been forced to give her such news.
‘Well, ’tis mainly Keast’s, over the cordage. But when young Billy come back from Eddyvean’s he said they told’n they weren’t letting no more sails out of the loft till they seen some money.’
Melissa’s chin rose as indignation bubbled up inside her. ‘Did they indeed? Well, they had no right to involve Billy in a matter which can be settled only between Mr Eddyvean and my father.’
‘True, Miss, and so I told him. But –’
‘I’ll speak to my father as soon as I get home.’ She smoothed her York tan gloves over her fingers, anger warring with burgeoning dismay. It was understandable that her father had spent less time on the business since Adrian’s death. Yet with Tom running things it should have made little practical difference. But the fact that accounts clearly long overdue had not been settled was not only a deeply unpleasant shock, it was completely out of character. ‘Don’t worry, Tom. I promise I’ll be tactful.’
He followed her out, rubbing his knuckles as she untied Samson and led him to the mounting block. ‘I’m some sorry, miss. I don’t like putting it on you. If there was another way …’
Swinging herself into the saddle, Melissa quickly arranged her skirts, then gathered up the reins. ‘I know, Tom. But there isn’t.’
Back in the house, Melissa managed to reach her room without seeing anyone. Two such different yet profoundly unsettling events in such a short space of time had left her badly shaken and she needed to regain her emotional balance before facing her father. But on opening the door she found Sarah waiting.
‘Morning, miss,’ she beamed. ‘Nice ride, was it? I knew soon as I seen the sunshine that’s where you’d gone. Bath’s all ready and your clothes laid out.’ She peered closer, her sharp little face puckering in concern. ‘All right, are you?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ With a brief smile, Melissa turned away, unbuttoning her dress. Too independent to enjoy being fussed over, she had always resisted having a personal maid or dresser. It hadn’t been easy to convince her mother that her needs fitted in perfectly with Sarah’s duties as senior housemaid, but the obvious success of the arrangement had proved her point. ‘Samson was a bit full of himself this morning, that’s all.’
Sarah shuddered. ‘Great thing he is. He do terrify me.’
‘Oh Sarah. He’s as gentle as a lamb.’
‘He might be for you. I heard John say he do try and nip Mr Hocking.’
Melissa had a startling mental picture of shaggy black curls, and Samson’s ears twitching then pointing forward in response to the strange sounds the man was making.
‘I put out your blue.’ Sarah scooped up the riding dress and bore it off, calling over her shoulder, ‘Soon as you’ve bathed, I’ll give your hair a good brush. Look like you been pulled through a hedge backwards, you do.’
‘Thank you, Sarah,’ said Melissa dryly as she twisted her hair into a large knot on top of her head and secured it with several pins. She stepped into the bath and lowered herself into the warm water.
But instead of relaxing against the high back and allowing herself the usual few minutes’ relaxation and daydreaming, she reached immediately for the soap and cloth. With so much to do, the sooner she got started the better. Despite the importance of the conversation she must have with her father, she sensed that unless she kept her thoughts focused they would stray on to paths that were both dangerous and futile.
Fresh and cool in a full-skirted gown of pale blue muslin with a dark-blue sash below a deep double frill edging the low,
His relief was visible. She felt a pang of mingled hurt and amusement that he should have feared she would fall into hysterics. Did he really not know her better than that? Then her sense of fairness asserted itself. Never before had he been forced to give her such news.
‘Well, ’tis mainly Keast’s, over the cordage. But when young Billy come back from Eddyvean’s he said they told’n they weren’t letting no more sails out of the loft till they seen some money.’
Melissa’s chin rose as indignation bubbled up inside her. ‘Did they indeed? Well, they had no right to involve Billy in a matter which can be settled only between Mr Eddyvean and my father.’
‘True, Miss, and so I told him. But –’
‘I’ll speak to my father as soon as I get home.’ She smoothed her York tan gloves over her fingers, anger warring with burgeoning dismay. It was understandable that her father had spent less time on the business since Adrian’s death. Yet with Tom running things it should have made little practical difference. But the fact that accounts clearly long overdue had not been settled was not only a deeply unpleasant shock, it was completely out of character. ‘Don’t worry, Tom. I promise I’ll be tactful.’
He followed her out, rubbing his knuckles as she untied Samson and led him to the mounting block. ‘I’m some sorry, miss. I don’t like putting it on you. If there was another way …’
Swinging herself into the saddle, Melissa quickly arranged her skirts, then gathered up the reins. ‘I know, Tom. But there isn’t.’
Back in the house, Melissa managed to reach her room without seeing anyone. Two such different yet profoundly unsettling events in such a short space of time had left her badly shaken and she needed to regain her emotional balance before facing her father. But on opening the door she found Sarah waiting.
‘Morning, miss,’ she beamed. ‘Nice ride, was it? I knew soon as I seen the sunshine that’s where you’d gone. Bath’s all ready and your clothes laid out.’ She peered closer, her sharp little face puckering in concern. ‘All right, are you?’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’ With a brief smile, Melissa turned away, unbuttoning her dress. Too independent to enjoy being fussed over, she had always resisted having a personal maid or dresser. It hadn’t been easy to convince her mother that her needs fitted in perfectly with Sarah’s duties as senior housemaid, but the obvious success of the arrangement had proved her point. ‘Samson was a bit full of himself this morning, that’s all.’
Sarah shuddered. ‘Great thing he is. He do terrify me.’
‘Oh Sarah. He’s as gentle as a lamb.’
‘He might be for you. I heard John say he do try and nip Mr Hocking.’
Melissa had a startling mental picture of shaggy black curls, and Samson’s ears twitching then pointing forward in response to the strange sounds the man was making.
‘I put out your blue.’ Sarah scooped up the riding dress and bore it off, calling over her shoulder, ‘Soon as you’ve bathed, I’ll give your hair a good brush. Look like you been pulled through a hedge backwards, you do.’
‘Thank you, Sarah,’ said Melissa dryly as she twisted her hair into a large knot on top of her head and secured it with several pins. She stepped into the bath and lowered herself into the warm water.
But instead of relaxing against the high back and allowing herself the usual few minutes’ relaxation and daydreaming, she reached immediately for the soap and cloth. With so much to do, the sooner she got started the better. Despite the importance of the conversation she must have with her father, she sensed that unless she kept her thoughts focused they would stray on to paths that were both dangerous and futile.
Fresh and cool in a full-skirted gown of pale blue muslin with a dark-blue sash below a deep double frill edging the low,
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