Page 2 of The Artisan and the Duke
Jules walked back out of the kitchen and shook her head at her mother. “Father needed an apprentice, Mother. And after he died, we needed the money. I’m doing what Father trained me to do. What is the point of having a skill if it doesn’t benefit my family?”
“You should have a family of your own by now,” her mother said.
Jules dropped down into a rickety wooden chair near her mother. “And where is Georgette? And Tally? They are off working, aren’t they?” When her mother did not respond, Julia continued, “They are just little girls. Tally is barely six.”
“You started working when you were younger than that,” her mother said, but Julia could see the worry in her eyes.
Julia nodded and agreed, “Yes, I did. I held reins for riders out on the street while they did their errands. I even carried bundles across town for people.” She sighed. “I saw them an hour ago. They are still helping till the garden for that wealthy widower on Blackston Street.”
There was a sigh of relief from the mother as she smiled. “I’m glad they’ve you to watch out for them, Jules.”
Jules eyed her mother and the bags under the woman’s eyes. The skin on her fingers was bleeding again from her work, but her mother never complained. At fifteen, her mother had married Jules’ father. Her father, Ralph Kelley had a bright future, and they set out on their adventure into the rising middle class.
Mrs Kelley eyed her daughter. “What are you thinking about?”
“How you and Papa should have had a good life,” Jules said. “When he died, there were no male relatives to keep control of our property; I felt outraged. Because of a matter of birth, we lost all we had. That’s why when we moved here I kept the persona of father’s son alive, Mum. If I hadn’t, there’s no telling what would have happened.”
Mrs Kelley nodded. “You are a brave and noble soul, Julia. I’m sorry. I meant Jules,” her mother said as she smiled over at her daughter.” Mrs Kelley looked back down at her work and then said, “It is a rather charming name, even for a girl.”
“It has rather grown on me,” Jules admitted. “Besides, it is all Papa ever called me, and it reminds me of him. I miss him.”
Mrs Kelley nodded sadly. “I do too. He was a good man.”
“A man that none of us seem likely to forget soon. You could have remarried after all. It’s acceptable to avoid poverty,” Jules said thoughtfully.
Mrs Kelley scoffed, “Isn’t a man alive could match your father.”
“Maybe not,” Jules said softly. Her mind went back to the strange herder she had met today. “I met a stranger today.”
Her mother looked over at her curiously. “What’s so odd about that?”
“He claimed to be a herder, but his hands weren’t calloused. Then when he left, I saw him head toward the city’s centre.” Jules propped her elbows up on her knees. “Do you think he’s a guardsman?”
Mrs Kelley shook her head. “I wouldn’t think they’d have the head for disguise and such.” Mrs Kelley frowned and added, “Might want to be careful, though. There have been rumours of raids and arrests. Could be someone looking for evidence of libel to stick all you masons in chains.”
“Don’t worry, Mum. I’m always careful,” Jules promised. “Better get back to work. I’ll check on the girls when I get a chance.” Jules tucked her hair under her cap and gave her mother a wave goodbye.
***
The music swirled through Mallory Hall like the smoke that drifted on the air from the cigars the men were gathered smoking. Lady Mallory preferred the smoke to be kept in the garden, but there always seemed to be a knot of men who had not yet suffered the wrath that the Lady of Mallory bestowed upon those who broke her rules.
Gregory had learned a long time ago to steer clear of such behaviour in Mallory Hall, and he bypassed the men who gave him nods as he passed. As he turned to go towards the garden, a slender hand halted him with gentle pressure on his arm. Gregory turned towards the person already aware of who it would be.
“Yolanda Greyson, my you have grown,” Gregory said as he turned to face the petite young woman. Her strawberry blonde hair had been curled and pinned so that Gregory thought it a wonder that she could hold her head up straight.
“Your Grace, I’m honoured that you remember me,” the young woman said with breathy enthusiasm.
Gregory started to suggest that she loosen her corset so she could speak properly but bit down on the remark. Instead, he smiled and said, “Who could forget such a lovely girl.” He made sure to emphasize the girl part. He had no interest in the child as a woman.
Yolanda was the daughter of a wealthy merchant, sugar cane if Gregory remembered her father’s occupation correctly, but the man had been bestowed an honorary title which made his attendance to such affairs, unfortunately, a standard event. As if the man had been summoned by Gregory’s thoughts, Yolanda’s father appeared at her elbow.
Sir Greyson grinned happily at Gregory. The short man’s pudgy fingers were practically dancing as if he was counting money. “Your Grace, I’m so happy that you’ve shown such interest in my daughter. She’s been very well educated, but not too haughtily.”
Gregory fought the urge to shove the man and his daughter out of his way. The merchant was clearly intent on listing the benefits and charms of his daughter as if to tempt Gregory into purchasing the girl. It might have worked with his sugar cane import, but it did nothing to make the girl appear more interesting to Gregory.
“Boris,” Gregory said cheerily as his cousin walked over. “You are just the man I wanted to see!”
Boris raised a bushy eyebrow in suspicion. “I am?”
