Lakeland Lily Read Online Free PDF

scented Margot, beloved wife of the once up-and-coming and now splendidly arrived and well-to-do merchant, Edward Clermont. Together the Clermont-Reads made a formidable partnership which neither had regretted making.
    Not that she had ever been as poor as that young man and his flighty piece clearly were. They positively reeked of poverty. You could almost smell it in the limpness of the girl’s cotton frock, bought no doubt from one of those dreadful hand-me-down rag stalls. Goodness knows when it had last been washed. The poor, in Margot’s opinion, should be locked up or have the decency to keep indoors out of sight of decent folk. The girl’s straw bonnet looked as if it had been sat upon, and no sign of a parasol. Even from the deck of the Faith, Margot could see quite clearly how outrageously the girl had flirted with the young man, lifting her skirt to reveal bare ankles, would you believe, above common black boots. No better than she should be, that little madam. Dear me, no. She and Edward may have had their hard times but they had never lacked for taste or propriety.
    As for Selene ... ‘My sweet darling girl’s future is in ruins,’ she railed. ‘Along with the family good name. Can’t you see that, you stupid man?’
    Edward sucked on his Havana and remained impassive. ‘I see that you think so.’
    ‘I was perfectly sure that Philip Linden would offer for Selene at some point during the festivities. Now it will never come about.’
    ‘I’m sure our clever daughter will find a way around the set-back,’ Edward declared, and Margot only just managed to stifle a scream of frustration. Tantrums rarely worked with her vexingly phlegmatic husband.
    ‘I shall take to my bed,’ she declared, in the injured tones of a woman who has been driven to the limits of her endurance.
    ‘As you wish, my dear,’ Edward quietly remarked. ‘Pour me a drop more tea, Selene,’ And reached for a piece of his favourite shortbread. Uttering a silent oath beneath her breath, one which Maggie Read had used often but Margot Clermont-Read had long since forsaken, she sailed from the room with the last scrap of her dignity intact and took out her fury on her pillow.
     
    Lily felt her life was over. Despite the fire in the small grate she felt so cold in every limb she was sure she’d never feel warm again. The noise and bustle of her family floated over her head as if they existed in some other time, some other place, and had nothing to do with her at all.
    ‘Come on, the lot of you,’ Hannah was saying. ‘Sit up to the table. We must eat.’ She started laying out knives, a modest wedge of cheese and a dish of home-made pickles. ‘Slice that loaf, Liza.’
    ‘Oh, I’m no good at it. I cut it too thick. Why can’t our Lily do it?’
    ‘Because I’ve told you to do it.’
    The two boys were squabbling over which of them should have the single slice of fat pork left over from the previous day’s supper. Arnie settled the matter by bestowing it upon his own plate.
    Seeing that her eldest daughter hadn’t moved, Hannah pressed ahand on her shoulder. ‘Come and eat, lass. You’ve sat there for nigh on two days, not eating, not sleeping, doing naught but weep. It’ll do you no good.’ But Lily turned her head away, not wanting to listen to the usual family banter, and certainly with no desire to eat. A great pain occupied much of her breast and sealed her throat off as tightly as if it were in a vice. Every part of her felt numb and the effort to move, even to feed herself, was well-nigh impossible. It seemed somehow a betrayal to poor Dick, who would never sit at a table and eat again.
    ‘I know it seems like the end of the world,’ Hannah murmured. ‘But the pain will pass in time.’
    Lily did not for a minute believe this, so remained silent. Hannah sent a mute appeal to Arnie, but he was spearing pickles with his knife and paying no attention to his wife. She tried again. ‘You have to keep up your