Tall Poppies by Janet Woods Read Free Book Online

her.
    â€˜The parson’s wife over in Sudbury called me a dirty slattern because I wasn’t quick enough to pick up after her. Who’s the slattern if you made the mess and need someone to clean up after you? I asked her.
    â€˜You have no respect for your betters, she says, and she sacked me on the spot. Uppity madam. If people wants respect they should respect others.’
    â€˜Quite right, Florence,’ Margaret Sangster had said, for she’d met the wife of the Sudbury incumbent, and she certainly was an untidy creature.
    Rosemary Mortimer would be cross when she found out, but Margaret didn’t care. She’d had enough of the woman’s rudeness and intended to send her packing. Who cared what Henry said? His mistress could go back to London and live with him. She didn’t care if she never saw either of them again. This house belonged to the Sinclair family. She had grown up here, and was still its mistress. It would be passed on to her son when she died.
    Even though there was a sense of purpose about Livia, she was gentle in her ways. Not like Nurse Gifford who had been a bit of a martinet, and who did everything by the clock. She’d had no sense of humour.
    Livia, on the other hand, was so sensible and cheerful, and was such a dear. She made Margaret laugh, and as a result, she felt livelier.
    â€˜Cook has made you something special for lunch,’ Livia said this particular morning.
    â€˜What is it, Livia?’
    â€˜I won’t tell you until you’ve finished your oatmeal. There’s only a couple of spoonfuls left. Open up.’
    Margaret made a show of shuddering as she swallowed it. ‘It reminds me of boarding school.’
    Livia laughed. ‘We called it goatmeal at the school I attended.’
    â€˜You attended boarding school? I thought you were employed from an orphanage in London.’
    â€˜Yes  . . . I was.’ She shrugged. ‘My parents lived beyond their means, I’m afraid, and they tended to entertain a lot. Daddy was a secretary to a government minister and my mother designed ladies fashion. When they died there were debts to pay, and after that there was no money left so the three of us ended up in an orphanage.’
    â€˜Oh  . . . my dear  . . . how perfectly awful. Didn’t you have any relatives to take you in? No, of course you didn’t, else they would have. What did you say your parents’ names were?’
    â€˜George and Eloise Carr.’
    â€˜Eloise Carr? I do believe I have a gown in my wardrobe designed by your mother. Was she part of Cuthbert and Associates?’ She remembered that the girl had siblings to support. The cottage was going to be without a tenant soon, so she might be able to do something for her  . . . she would think about it.
    â€˜I’m not quite sure, it was so long ago now  . . . I think she may have designed for Cuthbert.’
    â€˜Then you should be really proud, for she designed a gown for Lady Asquith, amongst other notables. If you climb on to the chair you should be able to reach the gown. It’s in a box at the top of the cupboard. I was going to wear it to the hunt ball  . . . that was a while ago  . . . but I didn’t manage to get there.’ She made a face as the girl stretched upwards, showing the hem of a drab flannel petticoat. Livia was neatly made, and if she were her own daughter, she’d be wearing silk and lace.
    â€˜Be careful you don’t fall, my dear.’
    â€˜It’s you who should be careful. You gave cook and me quite a fright, you know.’ The box was slid carefully out.
    â€˜Throw it on to the bed, dear. There are shoes and an evening bag in the other box.’
    The gown was so delicate, a blush of pink silk with a three-quarter gossamer chiffon overdress. A wide band of gold lace with embroidered dark red rosebuds on the skirt matched the bodice with its