“Oh dear, it looks a little excessive for a country town! I understand that Mr Hammond has modelled it on his store in Northampton, and is as proud as proud! Only look, dear Miss Whiston—he has festooned the doorway with his muslin and kerseymere! I do so hope he will not get mud on it!”
They were about to enter the shop when they were hailed from close quarters by a cadaverous gentleman with an eager eye. Lavender gave Caroline a speaking glance, ducked under the swathes of drapery and disappeared into Hammond’s interior. Caroline sighed and turned to greet the newcomer, trying to compose her face into an expression that was pleasant without being too welcoming.
“Mr Grizel. How do you do, sir?”
Hubert Grizel was curate of a neighbouring parish and had recently preached at the church in Abbot Quincey, on the invitation of the Reverend William Perceval. From the moment Caroline had seen him in church, she had identified him as the perfect example of a worthy clergyman looking for a consort. From the moment he had clapped eyes on Caroline, it was evident that Mr Grizel thought that he had found her. He had called at Hewly, not once but several times, and Julia had made sport of his pastoral visits until Caroline was very uncomfortable. She had no wish to encourage the cleric, but equally no desire to embarrass him.
“Miss Whiston!” Mr Grizel’s thin face flushed with pleasure. He removed his hat, gave a gallant bow and looked as though he were about to topple over. “How are you, ma’am? You look very well, if I may make so bold! I had been intending to call at Hewly, but the weather being as it has—” He gestured vaguely towards the muddy road.
Caroline smiled. “I am very well, I thank you, sir, as are all at the Manor. There has been little change in the Admiral’s condition. But you will perhaps have heard our good news? Captain Brabant is returned—”
Mr Grizel had indeed heard all about Lewis Brabant’s return. “I am relieved that the Captain is home safely from the wars,” he observed pompously, “and am more than ever comforted that you ladies are no longer unprotected. A house full of women is in need of a staunch defender!”
Caroline repressed the urge to tell him that they had scarcely felt in danger before, and a small silence fell. It was clear that Mr Grizel was trying to think of some conversational topic and equally clear that Caroline did not intend to help him.
“Well,” Caroline said brightly after a moment, gesturing towards the shop, “I must be about my errands! We will see you again soon, Mr Grizel.”
Mr Grizel ardently assured her that she would indeed, and took himself off, still stammering profuse compliments.
Caroline smiled a little as she negotiated the blue spotted muslin adorning Hammond’s doorway. Poor Mr Grizel! She hoped that she had mistaken his intentions but suspected that she had read them all too clearly. He could scarcely be blamed for considering a governess companion as a suitable wife and she just hoped she had not been so civil as to encourage his pretensions. She had no wish to hurt his feelings.
The interior of the shop was dark after the sunshine outside, and Caroline paused to allow her eyes to attune. One half of the shop was a grocery and general store, selling everything from candles to teapots, whilst the other half was a drapers. It was clear that Arthur Hammond was not a man to miss a commercial opportunity. He understood perfectly that his country clients could be anyone from the baker’s wife to Lady Perceval, and that rich and poor alike required a shop that sold all the bits and pieces they needed to save them making the journey into Northampton. At the same time he managed to give the impression of fine quality. Local gossip said that Hammond was very rich and an inveterate social climber, and Caroline could well believe it. She knew that he owned an emporium in Northampton and a string of other shops in the county, and that other members of his family had also made a fortune from trade. Hammond’s children had been sent away to get a fine education, all except Barnabas, his eldest son, who was being groomed to take over the shop.
Caroline ducked behind a bolt of glossy lustring that was resting against the shelves, and looked around for the ribbons. Julia had asked her to match some colours for two new gowns. She had chosen the dress material herself, but had lost interest in the details once the purchase was made, leaving the choice to her companion. Caroline did not mind. She knew she had a good eye for colour and style when given a chance, and if Julia did not like the outcome she should not have delegated the task in the first place.
Caroline paused before a display of fine stockings and lace. Would that she had either the opportunity or the means to wear such clothes! The red dress was the only luxurious item of clothing that she possessed, and she had ruthlessly avoided buying clothes she had known she would never wear. Nevertheless it would be fun one day…Caroline caught herself in a rosy dream where she was dressed in green silk and descending a sweeping staircase to a ballroom…She put it firmly from her mind.
She caught sight of Lavender over by the counter, purchasing some gold braid, presumably the commission from Lewis. Barnabas Hammond himself was attending to her, which struck Caroline as interesting since the purchase was small enough for one of the assistants to attend her. Lavender’s head was bent over her purse and there was an expression in Barnabas’s eyes that made Caroline’s heart skip a beat. So the draper’s handsome son had a tendre for the Admiral’s daughter! Caroline watched as Lavender looked up, met Barney’s very dark eyes and blushed becomingly. She pursed her lips in silent surprise. So the interest was mutual! Caroline could not be surprised, for any woman could see that Barney Hammond was a devastatingly attractive man. And perhaps it was simply a physical attraction on Lavender’s part. She had probably not met many young men and Barney had a strong, lithe physique, and a dark, intense gaze that was particularly compelling. Village gossip had it that the girls were mad for him, but Barney was quiet and kept himself to himself, almost as much as Lavender did…
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