The Shoemaker Read online

  ClEAN & wHOLESOME christian Historical Romance

  The Shoemaker

  An Old-Fashioned Regency Christmas Story

  Lisa M. Prysock

  2/12/2017

  Can Miss Catherine Edwina Lyndon find the hopes and dreams she buried more than a decade ago? Will the mercy of God deliver them to her on His wings if she cannot?

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means- electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the author.

  Copyright © 2017 by Lisa Prysock

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by Lisa Prysock; front cover image contributed by woofie_2015_31290 I selfpupbbookcovers.com. Clipart and illustrations used are public domain and illustrations by the author noted by initials LP or by Lisa Prysock.

  For information or to contact the publisher or author: Lisa Prysock, 7318 Autumn Bent Way, Crestwood, Kentucky 40014, USA

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  This work is catalogued in the Library of Congress.

  Unless paraphrased, otherwise noted or indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Copyright © 2017 by Lisa Prysock

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13: 978-1543082272

  ISBN-10: 1543082270

  Other Titles by Lisa M. Prysock

  To Find a Duchess

  The Christian Victorian Heritage Series:

  Hannah’s Garden: a Turn of the Century Love Story

  Abigail’s Melody

  The Lydia Collection

  The Redemption of Lady Georgiana

  Protecting Miss Jenna

  Persecution & Providence

  Arise Princess Warrior, a 30 Day Devotional Challenge

  Dedication

  I dedicate this story to my husband, Rob and my children. Thank you for doing all you do so I can continue to write. God has a special reward for you. You are the most wonderful, amazing family! I am eternally blessed by your love and unwavering support!

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the two Linda’s, Paul, Mom, and Robin for keeping me encouraged.

  Thank you Lord for helping me with all of my writing endeavors.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter1

  Chapter2

  Chapter3

  Chapter4

  Chapter5

  Chapter6

  Chapter7

  Chapter8

  Chapter9

  Chapter10

  Chapter11

  Chapter12

  Chapter13

  Copyright

  Author Biography

  Glossary of Regency Terms

  Author Note

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Hillbrook Hall Floor Plan

  Other Titles By Lisa M. Prysock

  The Cluniac Prayer

  Character Sketch Reference Sheet

  Character Sketch Reference Sheet

  Guests of Lady Anne-Marie Kingston and Lady Amiée-Josephine Kingston-:

  Lady Elizabeth Crandall, Derby Shire, Chesterfield

  Lady Jane Barrymore, Scotland, Edinburgh County, Kirkland Parish

  Miss Cordelia Higgens, Northampton

  Lady Agnes Burke, Somerset Shire, Bath

  Lady Mary Percy, Devon Shire, Kingsbridge City

  Lady Frances Tilney, Cornwall

  Lady Julia Chatworth, Berk Shire, Cookham Village on the River Thames

  Lady Myriah Barnes, Shire of Kent, Canterbury

  Lady Constance Pickens, Buckingham Shire, London, Mayfair

  Lady Margaret Ludlow, Northampton

  Guests of the Duke of Gladdington, Lord Kingston, Alexander Charles Kingston-:

  Baron Phillip E. Crane, “Phil” or Crane, Northampton

  Viscount Maguire Stapleton & the Viscountess, Lady Stapleton, Scotland, specific county not mentioned

  Earl Peter Boggs & the Countess, Lady Boggs, London & Kent

  University Boys:

  Viscount Joseph Kinsworth (Prefers Lady Aimée-Josephine)

  Mr. Brent Atkins

  Mr. Abel Johnston

  Mr. Frank Billings

  Viscount Ridge Wheatley- (Prefers Lady Anne-Marie)

  Hillbrook Hall Floor Plan

  The Cluniac Prayer

  O God, by whose grace thy servants, the Holy Abbots of Cluny, enkindled with the fire of thy love, become burning and shining lights in thy Church: Grant that we also may be aflame with the spirit of love and discipline, and may ever walk before thee as children of light; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, liveth and reigneth, one God, now and forever.

  Proverbs 3:5-6, KJV

  5 Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. 6 In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.

  Tuesday, December the 11th, in the Year of Our Lord, 1810

  Northampton, England

  Chapter 1

  Hillbrook Hall

  Some dreams die long before we remember what they were, much less how to grasp them; but mercy had something else to say in the prelude of all that the Christmas of 1810 held. Faithful, endurance, and suffering had long accompanied the scene that unfolded when mercy beheld and ran with arms open wide. The day of suffering and delays were come to an end for a certain English rose.

  Miss Catherine Edwina Lyndon easily slipped inside the double doors of the impressive Georgian estate, effortlessly gaining entrance without question amongst the commotion of young ladies spilling out of the grand doors. The butler busied himself assisting a few ladies lagging behind whilst they secured their cloaks and bonnets. Standing beside a round, mahogany table with a marble top and pedestal base just off center in the foyer, he held his arms out for them, laden with the fashionable coats required for their outing. Scooping up items to hand the ladies in quick succession, both he and the table seemed an endless supply of scarves, gloves, and fur muffs to keep them warm. As they donned capes, adjusted velvet hats trimmed in fur, and stuffed their delicate hands inside oversized muffs and elegant gloves; they crossed the portico and climbed into two sleighs assisted by liveried footmen.

  Catherine could barely absorb the elaborate surroundings. She stepped back out of the way to admire the festively decorated hall, thankful for the distraction going on about her. She quickly realized she needn’t have feared being denied admittance after all. She did have the letter with her from the mistress, explaining her arrival. Nonetheless, Winnie, as close friends and family called her, couldn’t seem to shake an odd sense that something was amiss.

  The jovial chatter and laughter of the merry party had not put a smile on the butler’s face. In the commotion, Alton, as the ladies addressed him with their thanks for his dutiful service, barely noticed the coach that had delivered her, nor the footman depositing her trunk and portmanteau into the stately foyer. As the bells jingled when the horses pulled away with the sleighs onto a meadow covered in snow drifts with depths of four feet or more in places, hemmed in by great snow banks, he closed the doors tightly and spun around expecting to find an empty foyer. Instead, he came face to face with Winnie, the unexpected guest.

  “I’m afraid you’ve just missed them,” he said, a furrowed brow indicating he was trying to place her but clearly did not recognize her. “We haven’t had snow like this in decades. We generally have
four or five days of snow each year. If you were planning on attending the sleigh ride…”

  “Oh no,” she replied. “I’m the companion the Duchess employed some months ago, Miss Catherine Edwina Lyndon.”

  His brow went higher as he contemplated her explanation.

  “One moment…” She removed her gloves expertly and held up her reticule. Opening the clasp, she plunged inside, fished out the letter of introduction from the Duchess, and handed it to him. Her insides fluttered about but she took short breaths of air to keep calm. “As you see from the letter, the Duchess was expecting my arrival sometime before Christmas. I am to accompany Lady Anne-Marie and Lady Amiée-Josephine throughout the coming Season… as their companion.”

  “Uh, I see,” he said grimly. Clearing his throat, “You are aware that the former Duke and Duchess of Gladdington are no longer with us…”

  “Pardon?” she inquired, butterflies lurching about in her stomach. Had she heard him correctly?

  “They were stricken with a severe case of influenza some months ago while visiting friends in Wales, not long after the date of this correspondence.” He sighed deeply, his voice low as he continued. “Dreadful turn of events… may God rest their souls. I assure you, despite the merry sleigh ride and house full of guests, the household is very much attempting to find a way forward from loss and grief.”

  Stunned, Winnie bowed her head reverently, not knowing what to say. ‘Twas then she noticed the butler wore a black tie about his crisp white collar. He was dressed in mourning. This news was a shock that had not reached her ears. The rest of the household did not appear to be in mourning from what she had witnessed moments ago, but she could certainly see they were doing their best to go on with life.

  The butler glanced at the letter again and brought a finger to the side of his head as he considered the matter. “I do believe I remember the Duchess mentioning something about this before the tragic turn of events. This does appear to be her signature and seal. I will deliver this letter at once to their son, the new Duke. I believe you may be the best news he’s had in weeks. He has been overwhelmed you know, since their passing…”

  “Yes, yes, I understand,” she murmured, wondering if the son of her now deceased employer would honor the wishes of the Duchess of Gladdington.

  “If you will be so kind as to wait here, I will just be a moment,” Alton said.

  She was thankful Father had insisted upon the rental of a coach and driver from the livery in Chelmsford. At least she had been delivered to the estate directly instead of left waiting for someone to pick her up in Northampton. The snow had come down for days last week. She hadn’t been entirely sure she would be able to get through from Essex. She had waited out the previous week, until four days of warm sunshine had turned the icy, snow covered roads to a slushy mixture in places, making it more than possible for travel by coach. The unexpected drifts of snow would remain for quite some time, but roads were shoveled where needed as the routine of life had returned to her village and the rest of the southern countryside of England.

  Finally, she had been able to begin her journey northwest, passing through London. Her experienced driver knew all of the best roads to take. He expertly navigated the coach over highways, up and down hills, across bridges, and safely along bumpy dirt roads. He stopped to refill her foot warmer with hot coals and change out the horses at all of the proper intervals. She felt some degree of security because he kept a rifle at hand under his seat. He made little attempt at conversation and slept above the stable with other drivers after a hearty supper of beef stew, while she retired to a room with a warm fireplace and a sufficient bed at the Queen Mary Inn & Stables. The inn keeper’s wife had turned down the coverlet and placed a copper bed-warming pan between the sheets. She was thankful to have arrived at her destination unharmed by Tuesday afternoon.

  Winnie paced the foyer area, lingering close to her trunk and portmanteau, glad to be out of the confines of the jostling coach ride. It felt good to take a turn about the spacious foyer. She peered out one of the long front windows with concern for her driver, but she could see he had already parked the coach just outside the stables situated from where she stood, in the distance to the far left of the property. After shedding her cloak and muff on an elegant bench in the foyer, she turned her attention to study the paintings that adorned the walls.

  True to his word, Alton, who had disappeared down the grand hall, returned in minutes. “The Duke, Lord Alexander Charles Kingston, will see you at once. You may remember that he held the courtesy title of Earl of Gladdington previously. Right this way, Miss Lyndon. You are from Essex, as the letter indicated, correct?”

  “Yes, the countryside near Chelmsford,” she replied, doubtful Lord Kingston would recognize her maiden name or anything else about her ordinary life.

  Winnie followed the butler down the hall, trying to keep her chin up and pulling her gloves back on as she did so. She adjusted her bonnet as thoughts clamored through her mind. What if Lord Kingston dismissed her? She didn’t even have enough in her reticule to pay the driver for a return trip home. Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths. The Proverb brought her peace again as they passed the staircase draped in garlands of evergreen, three sets of double doors, and several mahogany rectangular tables along the walls. Catherine noticed they matched the round one in the foyer. A few groupings of elegant, upholstered chairs and benches beckoned guests to recline upon them along the halls they traversed. They turned left down a hall that ran the length of the house. The butler stopped before another set of double doors about halfway down that hall. He swept the doors open wide to reveal the Duke in his library, having a heated exchange with an older gentleman wearing a brown tweed jacket, tan breeches, and brown leather boots.

  The handsome Duke leaned back, seated behind an enormous, mahogany desk. His hands were clasped behind his head, his elbows jutting out stiffly. His Hessian boots crossed at the ankles atop his impeccably organized desk. A black day-jacket slung across a corner of his leather chair, black breeches, a black top hat wrapped in a band of black silk resting on the desk, and dark circles under his eyes were all signs indicative of mourning dress. His dark curls, disheveled; black cravat, askew; and blue eyes, dancing with fire… made a stark contrast against his long-sleeved, white shirt. His square jaw seemed locked like a wrought iron gate.

  “Fourteen days!” The older gentleman growled firmly as he tossed a legal document onto the desk. “You are indebted to the Archbishop for granting you a special license and waiving the posting of the banns. You now have fourteen days to find a bride. Between you and I Kingston, I cannot conceive of any mothers who would agree to a wedding to take place within a fortnight… not even to a Duke.”

  The nerves in the Duke’s cheeks flinched as his facial muscles tightened with anger, but his voice remained low and steady. “I’m well aware of the terms of the will, Andrews. Your optimism is most gratifying.”

  Alton cleared his throat and raised his voice, announcing her presence. “Miss Catherine Edwina Lyndon, of Chelmsford, Essex…”

  The Duke stared at his boots with a clenched jaw in silence. He didn’t look up to acknowledge her entrance.

  Andrews turned around and peered across the room at Miss Lyndon through his spectacles as if beholding a prime specimen for a scientific experiment. “Perhaps Miss Lyndon will rescue you from your dire predicament! Lord knows I have done everything your father would have wished me to do… and then some.”

  Gathering his cloak and gloves, Andrews crossed the room to exit, examining Winnie as he did so, pausing to peer directly into her face just before he passed through the library doors in a huff, his nose held firmly in the air, emulating disdain for the entire situation. Alton closed the doors firmly behind Andrews and turned to wait on the words his master might utter next. Winnie could not decide if she had passed the apparently disturbed gentlem
an’s scrutiny or not, but it was all she could do to have refrained from sticking her tongue out at him. She was also tempted to stomp on one of his boots because of the way he looked her up and down, but she constrained her desires lest the Duke send her packing before she had even a chance to begin her employment. She seemed frozen in the middle of the library where the one called Andrews had stopped to observe her.

  “Thank you, Alton,” the Duke said when the doors had closed, swinging his feet to the ground and rising as he searched the stack of papers to his right, accustomed to ignoring the tirades of Andrews. He raked a hand through his tousled curls and indicated for her to come closer with a wave of his other hand, still not looking up in her direction. As she walked across the spacious library toward the handsome Duke, he retrieved the letter from his late mother which Alton had previously given him. He scanned it quickly, absorbing the contents in seconds as she stood very still before the desk, trying to guess his age. He seemed older than she had expected, perhaps nearly thirty.

  “I see you are the daughter of a vicar,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

  “Indeed, Your Grace, My Lord,” she replied, unable to disguise a slight tone of amusement to all she had witnessed.

  The Duke, surprised at her reply, looked up at her for the first time.

  For once, Winnie was glad her sisters had excellent taste in clothing. She usually wore their hand-me-downs with a thankless heart, but today she fully appreciated Caroline’s flawless style. She bore a particular appreciation that the forest green travel suit she had donned in the wee hours of the morning hadn’t wrinkled much on the long drive. She had risen before dawn to dress and breakfast. In addition to not looking rumpled, her dress bore no outward sign of being a hand-me-down; though she had painstakingly taken up the hem and added a few tucks, being of a slighter stature than Caroline. With help from the one maid the Lyndon household could afford, Hannah and Mother had expertly and efficiently assisted her in the task of having the hems taken up on all of the gowns she’d brought with her.