Charlotte’s blood plummeted to her feet. “He’s… he’sgone?”
“Yes, what did you expect?”
“I—”
The dowager allowed herself a small smile. “How shattered you look, child. Isn’t that interesting? But Warrick and Lord Lysander have only gone off to inspect a site for an ironworks and should return in a few days. Will that be enough time to sort out your feelings?”
Charlotte felt her cheeks go hot. “There’s nothing to sort. I’mfine.”
“Yes, you’ve taken on your mother’s debt and the queen is pushing marriage down your throat, but all summer you’ve been justfine. My poor darling, it must be exhausting to try to be on to every trick.”
Charlotte ignored her. “Gran, will you have any objection if Helena and I go to Maidstone tomorrow? We’ll take outriders, but I promise we don’t need Marby to escort us.”
“Of course you can go, and I won’t insist on Marby. We both know I only pushed Warrick on you in order to throw the two of you together.” The dowager bit the inside of her cheek, but a guilty laugh slipped out anyway. “Oh, Charlotte, you’re going to adore being a grandmother. One gets away with murder.”
The sun was just rising the next morning when Charlotte and Helena stepped into the landau to head to Maidstone, with Elizabeth dashing out at the last minute to join them.
“May I tag along? I’ve been aching to see your mill.”
“Of course, Lizzie.” Charlotte scooted over to make room on the bench.
They made good speed on the road and it wasn’t long before they were clattering into Maidstone and pulling up in front of the mill. Charlotte led Helena straight up to the Jacquard loom and left her poking at the mechanism that caused the weft to lift and lower.
As tempted as Charlotte was to hover, there was plenty of other work to be done at the mill, so she flitted upstairs to the embroidery floor for a few hours, then downstairs for a long discussion with the dyers, and as the clock ticked into the afternoon, she and Lizzie went to help Mrs. Cordelon inspect finished bolts.
“We’ve so many orders we can barely keep up.” Mrs. Cordelon sounded equal parts proud and harried.
Charlotte had a length of pink velvet in her hands, embroidered with a gemstone garland, each facet of the stones stitched in a slightly different color so they almost seemed to sparkle as she moved the fabric through her hands. It was so perfect that it put a lump in her throat—oh God, was she going to have to sell her half of the silk mill?
Mrs. Cordelon shot a nervous glance at Helena, who was now cross-legged on the wooden floor with punch cards spread around her in a circle, as if she were the center of a strange flower. She hadn’t moved from this position in over forty minutes, and she now appeared to be napping.
“Perhaps I ought to bring her some tea?” Mrs. Cordelon whispered to Charlotte.
“No, no, it’s best to leave her in peace,” Elizabeth whispered back. “Helena always looks half asleep when she’s doing her best thinking.”
Mrs. Cordelon sighed. “I suppose at least she’s quieter than Monsieur LaForey.”
Charlotte said nothing, but her chest felt fierce and hot, and frankly, rather desperate.
It was another twenty minutes before Helena’s eyes blinked open.
“Paper!” she called, and Charlotte rushed a notebook over to her.
“Fresh cards!” Helena called somewhat later.
Mrs. Cordelon brought her a fat stack and Helena spent another good hour punching them out and fussing around the machine to string them up.
“I need a weaver,” she said at last. “It’s time for the first test.”
Half the mill crowded around as Mrs. Cordelon herself began to pass the shuttle back and forth on the loom, and no one dared breathe until the smallest strip of fabric appeared.
Charlotte frowned down at the smudged and muddled pinks, trying to swallow her disappointment. “Oh well! It’s only a test.”
But Helena’s face flushed with triumph. “It’s anexcellenttest. I’ve done the punch cards right, but I seem to have hung several of them backward. Mrs. Cordelon, I need your help, please.”
Between adjustments, experiments, and the actual weaving, which was its own slow agony, it was a full hour before the next test.
“There! Do you see, Charlotte?” said Helena. “It’s only a small sliver of the pattern, but it looks clean to me.”
