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Before they could get further into the discussion, however, a woman at the front of the room clapped her hands for silence.
“We would like to welcome all of you to our embroidery display on behalf of Mrs. Pawsey’s School for Embroidering Females, which provides worthy young women with training in being professional embroiderers. I am Mrs. Harriet Pawsey Machill, owner of the present school. The ladies exhibiting their work are women with more than a passing interest in embroidery. We’re very happy to welcome all of the ladies and their families.”
Polite applause sounded in the room.
“As you know, our judge of the work today is our patroness, an accomplished needlewoman and a very special lady in her own right. I give you Her Majesty Charlotte, the Queen Consort of the United Kingdom.”
That brought more enthusiastic applause. The queen then said a few words about embroidery and its importance to women. Then Queen Charlotte began to stroll up and down the tables, sometimes pausing to ask the embroiderer about the work itself or to greet women she obviously knew personally or had met before. Mrs. Machill walked beside her, writing down notes that the queen dictated.
At Noel’s side behind the table, Eve was clearly tense. Unfortunately, the path the queen had chosen would take her past Margaret before she passed Eve. It couldn’t be helped, but Noel knew that was the cause of Eve’s nervousness. All he could do to help was give her gloved hand a quick, furtive squeeze.
When the queen paused at Margaret’s table to examine her slippers more thoroughly, Noel groaned. How he wished he could whisk Eve out of here and away to someplace bright and cheery, where she could be reminded that there were good people in the world, people nothing like Lady Margaret, with her vindictiveness and her thievery.
How he wished he had never considered making Margaret his wife. But he’d been blinded by the superficial trappings of her birth, beauty, and station. Sadly, Eve had proven to have more lady like manners and mien in one thumb than Margaret had in her entire body. More importantly, Eve’s sweetness and generosity, her very love of life, shone in everything she did, whereas Margaret’s underlying pettiness would always mar her for anyone she met.
The queen continued to glide down the rows of tables until she came to Eve’s. She paused to gaze at the design on the slippers. Then she picked up one of the slippers and examined it more closely. She whispered something to Mrs. Machill, who hurried back to Margaret’s table and came back with Margaret in tow and one of Margaret’s slippers in hand.
Now that the moment was upon her, Margaret didn’t seem quite so keen to brazen things out, for her skin was flushed and she avoided Noel’s gaze, not to mention the queen’s. No doubt she’d expected Eve to bow out and leave the field to her.
Clearly, she had no idea whom she was dealing with. Noel fought to keep from smiling.
The Queen compared the two slippers, then gazed at Eve. “Tell me, where did you find this design?”
“It’s my own, Your Majesty.”
“Do you have drawings with you to show it?”
“No, Your Majesty. I drew it on a wall. Although my original design had holly instead of mistletoe.”
“You mean, like the design on this?” She held up Margaret’s slipper.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She moved back from the table. “And the design on this.” And with that, she lifted her skirts just enough so the queen could see that Eve had done some extra embroidery to the gown—mistletoe woven with the holly leaves and berries to make the slippers match the gown.
That must have been what Eve and the others had been working on this morning. But he hadn’t noticed the extra design elements on her gown until now, too caught up in trying to force her into relinquishing the field to Margaret.
He should have known better. This was the ladies’ realm. They knew what they were doing. There was no way in hell Margaret could argue that her design was her own when Eve had a whole dress done with it that combined both mistletoe and holly.
“And this design is on a wall at …” the queen prompted.
“Where we live in Hatton Garden, Your Majesty,” Eve said stiffly, as if daring the queen to criticize her for it. “It’s on the dyeworks wall. It’s still there, as far as I know.”
The queen shot Margaret a cold glance. “Is it, indeed? So, anyone who happens by can see it?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Eve replied. “I like designs writ large to make them easier to see.”
Thankfully, Lady Archer didn’t so much as snort at that.
“I’ve seen the design myself, Your Majesty,” Noel put in. He only hoped he wasn’t making matters worse. “Upon my honor, it’s there.”
“I’m sure it is,” the queen said dryly, then turned to Margaret. “You may go, Lady Margaret.” She held out the slipper with two fingers as if she found it loathsome. “And take this with you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Margaret said, clearly relieved not to be receiving a dressing down for her obvious cheating.
The queen returned her attention to him. “Really, Lord Cokesbury, you do not have to confirm the matter of the design on the wall. I can send a footman to do that if I wish. Besides, your championing of Miss Archer is somewhat colored by your obvious interest in her, so I wouldn’t just take your word for it, in any case. And am I correct that the gossip saying you are about to make an offer of marriage to Lady Margaret is no longer … accurate?”
He swallowed. “You are correct indeed, Your Majesty.”
“And am I also correct that your interest in Miss Archer has something to do with that?”
