Rags-to-Riches Bride. Mary Nichols

parents, augmented by her own curiosity, about the sights and sounds of foreign places they visited, as well as through her reading, which was wide ranging. Surely that must count for something? She pushed open the door and her nostrils were immediately assailed by a mixture of spices and perfume, which had once been so familiar to her.

      A tall gangly youth came towards her, a smile of welcome on his face, assuming she was a customer. It was no good stating her errand to him; she would be laughed off the premises. She drew herself up to her full five feet five inches and faced him squarely. ‘I would like to speak to the proprietor.’

      ‘Mr Harecroft?’

      ‘If that is his name, yes.’

      ‘Do you have an appointment?’

      ‘No, but he will see me. My name is Miss Diana Bywater.’

      She made herself sound so confident that he did not doubt her. He asked her to wait and disappeared into the back of the premises, while she looked about her. The shop was spacious and well laid out. There were shelves full of bolts of silk, muslin, gingham and chintz in a rainbow of colours, and others displaying ivory ornaments, snuff boxes, fans and tea caddies. Towards the back were larger items, stools and intricately carved chests. These were the source of the exotic odours. She had not noted the name of the establishment and remedied the omission by going to the door and reading it from the facia. ‘Harecroft Emporium’ it said in gold lettering. She had barely returned inside when the young man came back.

      ‘Please follow me.’

      She was conducted through a labyrinth of rooms, all packed with merchandise, and up a flight of stairs along a corridor lined with closed doors, then up a second flight and along another corridor to a door at the end, where the young man knocked and ushered Diana in. ‘Miss Bywater, sir.’

      Diana walked into the room, trying not to let the man who rose to greet her see that she was shaking. He was in his middle years, his hair the colour of pepper sprinkled with salt and his eyes piercingly blue. He wore a dark grey frock coat and striped trousers. His collar was tall and stiffly white, his cravat slate grey. ‘Miss Bywater,’ he greeted her, holding out his hand. ‘How do you do.’

      ‘Very well, sir.’ She shook the hand and allowed herself a quick look about her. The room was large. The desk from which he had risen to greet her was in its centre, facing the door. One wall was covered in shelves containing ledgers and boxes, a large window occupied the middle of another wall and there were several upright chairs and two small tables. She was favourably impressed by its neatness and the fact that there was a square of good-quality carpet on the floor surrounded by highly polished boards. ‘You are the owner of this establishment?’

      ‘I am its proprietor. It is one of several under the Hare-croft banner. Please sit down.’ He resumed his own seat behind his desk and steepled his hands on it, waiting for her to state her business.

      ‘I see from the card in your window that you are seeking a clerk.’

      ‘We are indeed.’ Again he waited.

      ‘Then I am that clerk.’

      ‘You!’ He made no attempt to disguise his amusement. ‘You are a woman.’

      ‘So I am.’ She looked down at her skirt as if to confirm this, but really to renew her courage, before raising her eyes to meet his gaze. ‘Would you prefer a man? I could dress up in a man’s clothes and cut my hair. Would that make a difference?’

      ‘No, certainly not. Miss Bywater, you surely did not think I would entertain such a preposterous idea? My employees are all men, we have never employed women in the business—’

      ‘Now, that is not quite true.’ The voice came from behind Diana and she swivelled round to face a very old lady who had that moment entered the room. She was tiny, but very upright. Her snow-white hair was pulled up under a black bonnet with a purple feather curling round its brim. She wore an old-fashioned gown in purple taffeta and a short black cape. Her face was lined, but her eyes were the blue of a summer sky.

      Diana realised almost at once that she must be related to Mr Harecroft and this was confirmed when he sprang to his feet and exclaimed, ‘Grandmother! What are you doing here?’

      ‘I have come to see you, since you have not been anywhere near Borstead Hall for months.’

      ‘We have been extremely busy, as you must know. Visitors to London are more numerous than usual what with all the goings on at court, foreign dignitaries arriving and everyone wanting black for the late King. Some are even buying material for their coronation clothes. They have money burning a hole in their purses, and who was it who taught me that the business must come first?’

      The old lady laughed. ‘I did and I am a woman. So what is this young lady asking of you?’ She turned to Diana for the first time, a smile on her face. ‘Am I right in thinking you are here looking for work?’

      ‘Yes, ma’am.’

      ‘I am Lady Harecroft. The dowager, of course,’ she said, blue eyes twinkling. ‘But I once worked alongside my husband in this enterprise and helped build it up from nothing, which is why I said my grandson was not correct in saying the company has never employed women. One of its instigators was a woman.’

      ‘That’s different,’ Mr Harecroft said.

      Her ladyship ignored him. ‘Tell me, child, why do you need to work and what can you do?’

      ‘My father is an invalid and my mother died two months ago,’ Diana answered her. ‘I need to earn a living that will allow me to live at home and look after my father. As for what I can do, I can write in a good hand, I am familiar with adding, subtracting, fractions, decimals and computing percentages. Items such as you have displayed downstairs I have seen and handled in India and the Far East.’

      ‘You are very young to be so well travelled.’

      ‘I am eighteen, my lady, and my father was a sea captain. Mama and I often travelled to distant parts to be with him.’

      ‘What will he do when you are at work?’

      ‘He is not so incapacitated that he cannot amuse himself, my lady. He has lost an arm and that has weakened him, but I am hopeful he will improve day by day. The demise of my mother affected him badly.’

      ‘Have you no relatives?’

      ‘None that I know of. Both my parents were without siblings and their parents long dead.’

      ‘Then you do indeed carry a heavy burden.’ She turned back to her silent grandson. ‘John, give Miss… Oh, dear, I do not know your name.’

      ‘Diana Bywater, my lady.’

      ‘Good Lord!’ The smile faded suddenly, her eyes opened wide and she put her gloved hand to her mouth with a little cry before sitting heavily in the nearest chair.

      Diana started up in alarm. ‘Ma’am, are you not well?’

      Whatever it was that had disturbed her, the old lady recovered quickly and the smile was back. ‘I am extremely old, my dear, you must forgive my little lapses.’ She opened her fan and waved it vigorously in front of her face. ‘It is so hot today, I am quite worn out with it.’

      ‘You should not have attempted the stairs,’ her grandson said. ‘If you had sent a message, I could have come down to you. I will send for Stephen to take you home.’

      ‘Very well. But give Miss Bywater a trial. If she is as good as she says she is, it will not matter a jot that she is a female.’

      ‘Grandmother,’ he protested, ‘women cannot be expected to do such meticulous work. They do not have the constitution for it, nor the mental ability…’

      ‘Nonsense! You forget the country is ruled by a woman now.’

      ‘The new Queen will no doubt be guided at every step by her ministers and advisers. There is no comparison. And how can I put Miss Bywater in