Wellchester Triplets Series: A Historical Regency Romance Box Set Read online

  Johanna’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Come now, my girl. Has your mother never spoken to you about the ways between a man and a woman? Surely, she has not left this until your marriage night?”

  Johanna’s face changed and blushed as she realized what Aunt Margaret meant. “No, Aunt Margaret, he did not touch me. The only time we touched was when I tended his wound and he was dressed. I only exposed the part of his chest that needed bandaging.”

  Aunt Margaret nodded. “I thought as much. He had most assuredly moved his bandage for I saw his wound as he approached. I would know a Wellchester woman’s stitch anywhere; I have surely seen enough of them in my garments. No, Johanna, you are not ruined. But I warn you, do not speak of this to anyone else, not even your own mother or sister. You know how word travels and others may not look upon this as innocently. It was evident to me from his words that he did not know your name or anything about your family.”

  “No, Aunt Margaret. I told him only that my name was Johanna. Why, I do not even know his name.”

  Aunt Margaret drew in her breath. “Do you mean to tell me that he never told you who he was?”

  Johanna shook her head.

  “Why child, you had the pleasure of saving none other than William Bower, the son of and future Lord Cunningham. He is a special courier to the King, given only the most difficult, dangerous assignments. His prowess as a horseman and soldier are widely known and he is to be trusted. It is for this reason that I was assured he had not touched you. He is too great a gentleman to risk a young girl’s reputation.”

  Johanna’s mouth was agape and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh, Aunt Margaret. I am so aggrieved. I fear I shall never see him again.”

  “But my dear, you only just met him and knew nothing of one another.”

  Johanna nodded and shrugged, her face filled with puzzlement at the depth of attachment she felt for a man she barely knew.

  “Ahh, but that is often the way of the heart,” Aunt Margaret patted her shoulder. “Although as a matchmaker I look to put together those who may come to love one another eventually, it is more often that they are lucky to become friends. It is the chance meeting that leads to true love.”

  Johanna gasped. “Love?”

  “Aye, it is all over your face and in your tears. I do not doubt that he feels the same way for he treated you as a lady. Soldiers, especially those who have been on the road a long while, are known to treat women as a convenience, if you understand what I mean.”

  Johanna nodded slowly, the realization and truth of Aunt Margaret’s words finding understanding. “What am I to do?”

  “Do? Well, child, there is nothing you can do. Your young Lord Cunningham to-be has a father who has a fondness for the bottle and gambling, a combination doomed to failure. He holds little now but his title, and your William is trying to make good with the King. It is his only hope of not losing the title upon his father’s death. I believe, in his case, however, that he is also meant for the life of a soldier. I believe he has travelled widely.”

  “He has. He told me much of his travels in the little time we chatted. I should like to do that, Aunt Margaret… to travel the world. But, alas I am a woman.”

  “Do not begrudge being a woman, my dear. It often makes us the more powerful sex for we may take part in life with gusto equal to that of a man, or we may choose to withdraw and do only womanly things. There are advantages to both, you know. Look to your own mother. She is able to have her own business, a means of supporting herself and the three of you, should anything unfortunate ever befall your father. She will never be at the mercy of the kindness of strangers, or an enterprising man who would put Richard out of his position as heir to the smithy. No, Johanna, it is happy you should be that you are a female. Besides…” she smiled and winked, “were you a man, your William would not cast an eye toward you.”

  “Oh, Aunt Margaret,” Johanna blushed and whispered. “Do you think I might ever see him again?”

  “I believe that is up to him, my dear. He has little to offer you at the moment, and if you become betrothed to another, he will forever have missed his chance.”

  “But I don’t care about whether he has wealth or title,” Johanna protested.

  “It is he who cares, Johanna. A man’s job is to provide for his wife and family, and William would be no different. A title can buy little bread. I would not be surprised to know that at some point he has become a mercenary if the King does not permit him to take a wife. So, to answer your question, there is no way to know, and you should hope you have made an impression large enough to make him look for a way to come back to you.”

  Johanna sighed. “I must go. I told the others I was coming to town for a hair ribbon so I must go and purchase something to back my story.”

  Aunt Margaret nodded. “Do not despair, Johanna. Your future has not yet been written. And buy the blue, it makes your eyes glow. Or perhaps it was the tears…” she said to herself.

  “Thank you, Aunt Margaret.”

  “Aye and go along with you now. Have you had word from your parents?”

  “No, but we are well and at peace, so there is no hurry,” Johanna told her, waving as she headed to the shoppe.

  Chapter 13

  While Johanna tarried and quietly grieved the departure of William, as she now permitted herself to think of him, the world carried on at the farm. Richard was kept busy from before dawn to late at night, keeping up with the demand at the smithy. The world was about to reach in and catch the lot of them up into something they could have never predicted. It came from more than one direction.

  Ira and Sylvia arrived home one misty afternoon. Melody was sewing, Richard was in the smithy and Johanna was just pulling two loaves of fresh bread from the racks over the kitchen fire. “Mother!” she cried out as Sylvia entered through the kitchen door. She hugged her mother and ran out the door to hug her father as well. He hadn’t gotten any further than the smithy, anxious about the state of business as was to be expected. “I’ve just made bread. Come, the both of you, inside and let us have tea,” Johanna invited, and they nodded and followed her inside.

  After an excited reunion, the family sat down to the trestle table as Johanna proudly sliced her bread, pulled a jar of strawberry preserves she’d managed to put away, and Melody brought out a dress she’d just completed for her mother’s inspection. Then came the time for talk.

  The triplets were sad to learn that their great-uncle, Edward, had passed in his sleep. There had been a very small, very simple funeral and Ira and Sylvia had immediately packed and left for home. Before leaving, however, Edward’s solicitor had gathered the family members in the parlor for the reading of his last will and testament. Ira was astonished to learn how wealthy Uncle Edward actually had been. The old man had scrounged and hidden his money well, for there were no luxuries in sight. Edward had left Ira a very tidy sum of money, as well as handsome dowries for the girls and enough for Richard to set up his own business, should he so desire. Ira cautioned that they would not inherit the monies for while, their great-uncle thought it wise that they have a year to consider how to spend their inheritance before it actually became available to them. He had, indeed, been a shrewd man.

  They discussed the status of the farm and the new customers for both Ira and Sylvia. All three children were commended for their cooperative diligence in keeping the routine consistent and it was decided that the family would take a day and travel to a local waterfall for a picnic and afternoon of relaxation as a reward.

  Johanna held her breath to see if there would be any mention of William, but neither Melody nor Richard seemed to think the event noteworthy enough to bring up. She was highly relieved. She hoped she could trust Aunt Margaret to keep her peace as well. She was fairly sure she could.

  Once everyone had unloaded their priorities, Ira passed a solemn look with Richard and they rose simultaneously, leaving the kitchen and heading for the barn. Ira had someth
ing more serious to discuss with the younger master Wellchester.

  They sat companionably in the aromatic barn, each on a thick bundle of hay that would muffle their words. After having handled the farm so well in his absence, Ira believed Richard to be grown, and therefore the mantle of responsibility and ownership would eventually pass from father to son.

  “Richard, while your mother and I were travelling, I had the opportunity to talk to many folk I ordinarily would not have met. We want you children to be aware of a somewhat uncertain future ahead. It will not affect us directly, but you will likely see it affects others and they may be hurt, or worse.”

  “What is it, Father?”

  “Most upsetting, most upsetting,” Ira was muttering.

  “Can it be that bad, Father? Father?” Richard’s brow was wrinkling at his father’s suggestion of impending doom.

  “There is a movement afoot, a sort of revolt, I’m afraid. As you know, we are an old and progressive country, having invented and developed some of the greatest accomplishments the world has known. That innovation comes with a price, however. That price is competition. Your mother and I, and many of the people with which we’ve kept company are such artisans; people who learned their trade from their parent before them, and before them and so on. We take great pride in our trade, having spent a lifetime perfecting it. You might also say we have created the market for our services, taking care with our customers and giving them the best quality possible. Our names and our reputations are at stake, after all. Where would we be if your mother began leaving seams unsewn, or if I only shoed three hoofs of the horse? You see my point?”

  “I do, Father. I feel as though you are trying to tell me that this is about to change?”

  “Indeed, Richard, I am. In that we have created the market, it is easy for others to come in and attempt to capitalize on our hard work over the generations. That is what is happening now. Some large companies have decided to compete with the smaller businesses of the stockingers. These competing companies are installing large, wide frames and these permit faster production, but lesser quality than our artisans have produced with honor. Since this new equipment requires little knowledge and no craftsmanship, those companies are able to hire young and inexperienced workers at a very substandard wage. Naturally, this poses a threat to true craftsmen and they’ve appealed to the government without success, I’m afraid. They have chosen, instead or organize and have come to be known as Luddites. I know not the origin of the name for it is not a religious or political group. Some say there was a young man who broke one of these wide frames at his employer and his name, Ludd, became the rally call. These Luddite groups are staging obstructive gatherings, attempting to smash these wide frames.

  “Your mother and I feel this is the beginning of a trend. These companies bringing in more modern, more efficient machinery will not stop with hosiery, but become involved in many of the crafts, including potentially ours. Surely, your mother’s use of fabric will be affected eventually.

  “Now, what I have determined is that this family will not take sides for as long as possible. We won’t even discuss the issues as I want to appear as unbiased as possible. Is that understood?”

  “Father, how will it affect us then?”

  “Well, Richard, there will be skirmishes, mostly in towns where there is more industry. But more than likely, it will filter throughout northern England and perhaps into Scotland. People will take sides, even those who are not directly affected. Tempers will rise, and there will be fights, drunkenness and families will begin to band together against other families. It will not be a pleasant situation. The King is aware and not disposed at the moment to deal with it other than to send the occasional small sentry troop to keep order where necessary.”

  Ira could tell by the look on Richard’s face that he was being thoughtful and forming his own opinion and conclusions. He was proud of his son, and glad that he could depend on Richard to stay and help to take care of the family.

  “I also believe,” continued Ira, “that the country will suffer financial woes. We are involved not only in our industrial struggles, but the colonies are taking issue with us. I feel there is another war afoot as the country, America, as they call themselves, is in league with the French and Napolean Bonaparte is only too glad for whatever aid or interference they might provide. That brings us to the French. Napolean is on the march and although dimunitive, the man seems intent on owning the world. We have many problems on many fronts. England has always been a country that reached around the world. We’ve colonized and conquered. Yet, we are a small nation and have limits, both in manpower and financially. What goes poorly for England will filter down to us.

  “I don’t need to enlighten you regarding the instability of our own monarchy. The old King, bless his heart, is out of the picture but his son, the Prince Regent, is not as strong as if the King himself were in power. This leaves us vulnerable.

  “The many forces deployed, both by land and sea are not inexpensive, Richard. England is hurting. This industrial inner revolution, while not worthy of an entire army, is bothersome and detracts from the wealth of the country as well. I need not tell you where we are with the Scots.

  “Therefore, I’m placing this family on notice that we will plan a thrifty budget and stick to it. We will begin putting away stores against future food shortages, and expenditures will be limited to only those that are absolutely necessary.”

  “Richard, there may come a time very soon when you are asked to serve in His Majesty’s services. Melody and Johanna are both of marriageable age. I have spoken with your mother and we believe this may be the opportune time for both of them to find husbands and increase our strength, as well as our connections, politically and financially. As you know, we have inherited some monies and I would like to ask that these be put into the family coffers. Of course, if a dowry is necessary for marriage, we will respectfully provide that. There is room on our farm to construct three more cottages and in that way, we can share in the labor and rely upon one another to get through what lies ahead for England.

  “Your mother and I assume you will likewise be looking to take a wife and to begin your family with a son of your own.”

  “Do the girls know you are expecting them to seek husbands?” Richard asked.

  “Your mother will speak with them. That is more woman’s business.”

  Richard was a bit stunned at this sudden release of gloomy forecasting. He went to bed that evening wondering how a day that had begun with sunshine, could have turned gloomy so quickly.

  Chapter 14

  Early the next morning, Sylvia gathered both girls and headed for Aunt Margaret’s. Johanna was naturally very resistant to their purpose in going, but she had been raised that she had a responsibility to others, and today would prove that demand.

  “Come along girls,” Sylvia announced and led the way down the lane. They walked up to Aunt Margaret’s door and knocked. Aunt Margaret, herself, answered and she welcomed them in, hobbling slowly as it had become difficult for her to walk.

  While the girls had only had the pleasure of seeing Aunt Margaret’s drawing room a limited number of times, there was always a little thrill involved in being invited into the inner sanctum. No one was quite certain where Aunt Margaret’s money originated, but it was often thought that she had inherited most of it from her father who had been a wealthy solicitor. When it came time for his daughter, Margaret, to be wed, no appropriate suitor could be found. At least none appropriate, by his standards. Eventually, the suitors had moved on and it was time that determined that Margaret would be an old maid, a fact which undoubtedly had some influence on her choosing to be a professional matchmaker. After her father had passed on, Margaret’s inheritance was more than adequate for the rest of her life and she increased this by wisely investing in building small, affordable cottages, which she then rented out to the villagers. Aunt Margaret had always been known for her generosity and patience. Therefore, wh
en one of her tenants was unable to meet the rent, Aunt Margaret would find some other means for them to render payment. Perhaps they might whitewash one or more of her cottages. They might trade for some furniture or other valuables they were willing to part with, or perhaps they would tend to her gardens or act as her carriage driver as she went for rides in the countryside.

  Aunt Margaret had wisely collected valuables throughout the years and therefore her cottage looked more like a Queen’s Museum inside. The drawing room was furnished entirely in a lilac color. Velvet covered settees faced one another with a hand-carved ivory table from which she would serve tea centered between these. In one corner stood a solid mahogany grandfather clock. Its inner mechanical workings, as well as the pendulum, were made from solid gold. Many of those who were living close by Aunt Margaret worried that she would be set upon by thieves who would clean out her cottage and cast her aside to die. Therefore, many who lived nearby took it upon themselves to keep a close eye on her and checked in with her daily.

  Aunt Margaret directed the girls to go into the kitchen and bring back the tea cart. On it lay a platter of tiny, decorated cakes with vanilla icing. She instructed them shrilly to be certain to make and bring back enough tea to last them through a good long visit.

  Aunt Margaret bemoaned that her hand was not as steady as it once was, and she prevailed upon Sylvia to serve in her stead. The ladies had settled, a napkin and a tiny iced cake in their lap. Each held a hand-painted China cup of tea in their hand.

  Aunt Margaret initiated the conversation. “And what might bring the Wellchester ladies to my humble drawing room this morning?

  Sylvia straightened her back and took control of the conversation. “Aunt Margaret, I’ve come to you today to elicit your services. I beg you to help me find husbands for my daughters before the year is out.”