Appearances

By Suzy Stewart Dubot

1817 Hertfordshire, England
Is it fair that someone's appearance determines how we behave towards them?
Lillian is a thirty-year-old spinster whose father has recently died. She now lives alone and is more or less resigned to remaining single. Jonas is a widower with two young children and his own business. He has taken a fancy to Lillian, but the trouble is, he is not particularly good-looking, due mostly to his work as a roofer. Lillian wonders if she is desperate enough to encourage his interest or if she would be better off remaining a spinster?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzy Stewart Dubot
• Release date: Aug 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463235119

Suzy Stewart Dubot

An Anglo/American who has lived in France for nearly 40 years, she began writing as soon as she retired. She moved to London in 2012 and spent more than a year there with family. The spring of 2014, she returned to France, Her laptop has never had any trouble following her.Before retiring, she worked at a variety of jobs. Some of the more interesting have been : Art and Crafts teacher, Bartender, Marketing Assistant for N° 1 World Yacht Charterers (Moorings), Beaux Arts Model, Secretary to the French Haflinger Association...With her daughters, she is a vegetarian and a supporter of animal rights! She is also an admirer of William Wilberforce.(If you should read her book 'The Viscount's Midsummer Mistress' you will see that she has devoted some paragraphs to the subject in Regency times.)PLEASE BE KIND ENOUGH TO LEAVE A REVIEW FOR ANY BOOK YOU READ (hers included).

Book preview

~ Prologue ~

March 1818

The March morning had been sunny and fresh. A sudden gust of wind sent blackthorn blossoms into the air before letting them flutter to the ground on the drive leading away from the church. They were as good as any celebratory acknowledgement of a marriage. Lillian sighed as she plucked a petal from her pelisse. For a brief moment, the gay flashes of pale, swirling, flower confetti, struck by sunlight, distracted her from more serious thoughts. Then, a jerk as the gig rolled over a piece of wood brought her back to reality. The deed was done—for better or for worse.

She was now a married woman.

~ Chapter 1~

Summer 1817—the previous year

What will you do now he’s gone? Alice asked in a low voice.

She had caught up to her friend in the town’s marketplace, hooking her arm onto that of Lillian’s. Hardly glancing at the stalls, they weaved their way in and out of shoppers.

Honestly, I don’t know, Lillian replied. "As his only kin, Pa left me the cottage, but you know how rundown it is. I don’t have the money to pay for major repairs, and my makeshift efforts at plugging holes will only last until the first violent storm hits us. I exaggerate a little, but you know what I mean. The plot of land it sits on is probably worth more than the cottage itself. What would you do, Alice?"

I’d do what I’ve already done. I’d marry a good man, she answered with a smile.

Alec was lucky to get you, said Lillian. You have much to appeal to a ‘good man.’ Look at me. I’m thirty and considered an old maid. These dreary mourning garments don’t help my case either. Even in my youth, I was never endowed with those good looks that fashions dictate. Age has not improved anything—except, perhaps, my bosom, she said with a laugh.

Although she remained trim with no extra weight around her waist, it was true her breasts had, in a manner of speaking, blossomed.

Don’t be silly, Lillian. I’m no more of a beauty than you are, and I married and am happy. If you hadn’t stayed to look after your father, you might have been married, too. Angus was an enthusiastic suitor. He proposed, didn’t he?

Yes, he did, and I might have accepted his proposal if his home hadn’t been in Scotland. I couldn’t leave father, you know that. But, that is all water under the bridge. Angus is married now and living in Edinburgh.

You still have much to recommend you, Lillian. You have enviable skin and luxuriant hair. And if we’re going to examine you like a horse, we can add that your teeth are white and straight. You’d be attractive if you smiled a little more.

I would, if there were something to smile about, she replied. And then quickly added, "Now I’m sounding like an embittered old maid, and I don’t mean to."

Alec told me Jonas has a fancy for you. He’s a decent man.

"Are you sure it’s me or my property? As it’s adjoining his, it would give him direct access to the main road. He could also do with someone to look after his two children, and he wasn’t endowed with good looks either, she finished with a grin. We all want someone attractive, don’t we?"

"I know what you mean. He’s no Adonis, but he isn’t ugly, just a bit worn looking. He has good teeth as well, you know, and you have to admit he is a hard worker. Believe it or not, he’s managed to care for those children on his own. I’ve heard he was devastated when his wife died all those years ago. How many now? Five?"

Funny, isn’t it? Lillian began. The one person I would have married in a flash when I was younger is now the next best thing to a beggar.

Lillian thought about Frederick Lancaster who had been so handsome and charming with it.

Don’t judge too harshly, Alice advised Lillian.

She’d been privy to the fifteen-year-old Lillian’s infatuation with Frederick. He had been her first, and perhaps, only heart-throb, but then, he’d had sweethearts in every village. He could have his pick of all the prettiest girls, so young Lillian had only had her dreams to keep her optimistic.

War can affect men in strange ways, Alice continued. After he was wounded out of the service, it sent him to the bottle; no doubt to calm the pain. We don’t know the demons he combats these days.

Lillian nodded. She’d been disillusioned long before he’d gone off to war. In a way, she was grateful she hadn’t made a fool of herself back then. There had been talk of seeds he’d sown with other young girls. Enlisting had, perhaps, been his way to escape his personal complications.

Anyway, don’t be surprised to see Jonas turning up on your step one of these days, Alice added for good measure.

Lillian sighed at the thought. Would she prefer to remain a spinster if Jonas were her only prospect?

~ Chapter 2 ~

Jonas combed his unruly, brown hair before taming it with an outdoor cap, which he pulled down snuggly.

He’d noticed a little grey showing on his temples and shrugged. It was perhaps the price to pay when one still had a full head of hair at thirty-five. If there were one thing that he wished he could change, however, it would be the creases in his face. Working outdoors on roofs had long ago given him creases around his eyes from squinting, but the creases in his forehead and either side of his mouth had come from sadness and worry. He knew his lined, leathery brown face made him look older than he was, too. He sighed as he passed a hand over the light stubble on his cheeks which had already begun to show after his morning’s shave. Perhaps, he should let it grow. The creases would be less apparent…

His thoughts shifted to Lillian, who had captured his attention with her kind comments and gestures to his children. The last time they’d stopped at her cottage to stroke her cat, she’d come out and given each one a yellow cupcake, a treat which he rarely provided as it meant buying cakes from the baker. He knew she didn’t have an ulterior motive for chumming with them, because he was not some handsome or wealthy man one would try to reach through his children.

Davey, Emma, we have to go. I’ve a task waiting for me.

Jonas had acquitted himself in the eyes of others for working on a Sunday afternoon because he had attended the early morning church service with the children. A caring father, who worked hard to keep the family together, was not frowned upon—much—for working on the Sabbath.

This afternoon he would be giving the lord of the manor a quote for redoing the roofs on all the tied cottages. If his quote met with the man’s approval, he would be assured of a steady income for months to come, and he would be employing others, so the job would be finished before the winter. Jobs were fewer during the cold weather, so he worked harder in the clement months.

His children were well-behaved away from home, so he felt confident they would not be a problem while he was with Lord Seton. It wasn’t that they misbehaved otherwise. It was just that they were so full of energy most of the time that Jonas let them run a bit wild while in his care alone. He had the chore of being both mother and father to them, which saw his softer side revealing itself.

Davey was nine and Emma was six, nearly seven, so they had few memories of their mother, Anne. In fact, if Emma had any at all, they were ones she had created through stories she had heard or objects which had belonged to her mother. Perhaps, Davey had imprinted images in her mind from his own vague recollections.

He hated to admit it to himself, but the memories he had of his wife were fading away, too, overprinted by everyday happenings, whether delightful or dramatic. Wealthy people had miniatures painted of their loved ones as keepsakes. If he’d known she was going to die so young, he would have had one painted of her, no matter the cost.

He shook his head at the ridiculous thought. A painting could never hold the true essence of a person. Sometimes, looking at Emma helped him focus on Anne again, because the little girl did share similarities with her mother.

Traitorous thoughts then led him to Lillian again. He saw her several times a week and for some strange reason, it was she who made his heart beat faster.

There were younger girls in their small town who saw him as a ‘catch.’ He owned his home and land, besides having his trade with an income. So, what if he had two children? That was never a handicap when it came to an older man with property. The majority of men who remarried wanted a wife to look after their offspring. A love-match might be the substance of dreams, but down-to-earth reasoning said it was better to have a roof over one’s head which stayed. It avoided the anxiety of scraping together a rent to pay each week.

Lillian was not one of those flighty, inconsequential girls who played up to him. Pretty as they were, he wanted a woman of substance, and although Lillian was no beauty, he found her handsome. She had presence—and natural kindness.

He guessed she was close to thirty, because his first recollection of her and her father had been when he was in his teens. As a trainee roofer, he’d had dealings with her father because his best friend had been apprenticed to the man. He had no memory of her mother or anything else, however, because his eyes had been directed elsewhere.

His childhood companion, Anne, had been the only girl to draw his attention through the years. Although she had been two years older, it had made no difference to Jonas, who had been a serious, hard-working lad. It had been, perhaps, her maturity which had attracted him. Their understanding, from an early age, was that they would marry. It gave them both reassurance and a purpose in life.

As he helped the children up into the trap, his thoughts continued to flirt with the idea of Lillian. She would be in mourning for about a year as her father had died a little over a month ago, which meant he didn’t have to make any rash attempts to win her favour, but, he would try to remain within her sphere of acquaintances. He didn’t want her to forget him, or worse, ignore him.

He flicked the reins on the horse’s rump, and they were off to see Lord Seton.

~ Chapter 3 ~

During her father’s brief but terminal illness, Lillian had not concerned herself with the stone shed and the equipment it contained. Now he was gone, she was going to have to tackle the disposal of the tools he’d used in his trade. He’d been the only cartwright in the vicinity, who was also a capable wheelwright. It had been his business which had kept them afloat for years. Not really knowing the value of the various articles, she nonetheless hoped to sell everything for a decent sum to add to what he’d left her in his will.

During their life together, he had insisted on living frugally with few luxuries, because it had allowed him to put money aside. He loved his only child and, although he never spoke of it with her, he’d not wanted her to suffer once he’d gone. This she discovered upon his death when she found all his affairs were in order and he was debt-free. The cottage was hers, along with an amount of money which would tide her over until she was able to establish a regular source of income.

He had been a man of few words, which now left Lillian bereft for not having those cosy reminiscences which more fortunate children have of their parents. He’d never spoken to her of her mother, so she knew next to nothing about a woman who had died before she could form her own memories. Even the cottage had been bought after her demise, so bore no traces of her.

Lillian guessed that a folded piece of paper her father had kept in an envelope in a drawer next to his bed had something to do with her mother, but she had never dared ask. It was her father’s personal connection to his wife. Children, adult ones included, did not trespass on their elders’ private matters. If he had wanted her to know what it contained, he would have told her. Besides, she was only guessing it concerned her mother. The envelope would remain untouched