Slowly, the roll of finished work at the top grew longer. No wonder she had nursed him, uncomplaining, for months at a time. She had the patience to measure success in inches. Penny noticed his interest and announced, ‘Her handwork is magnificent.’
It brought a blush to the woman’s fair cheeks, but she did not pause, or lose count of the threads. ‘In my homeland, lacemaking is quite common,’ she announced. ‘My mother was far better at it than I.’
‘Your homeland?’ he prompted, for it was yet another fact that he did not know.
‘Belgium,’ she said, softly. ‘I was born in Antwerp.’
‘And we met in Bath,’ he added. It did not answer how either of them came to be there. But perhaps, if repeated often enough, it would make sense.
‘You may think it common, but your work is the most delicate I have seen,’ Penny reminded her with a sigh. Then she looked to Will. ‘It is a shame that you did not bring Justine to us before the last christening. I would so have liked to see a bonnet of that trim she is making now.’
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