Tailored Truths, Excerpt by Nancy Jardine

An engrossing Victorian Scotland Saga (Silver Sampler Series Book 2)

Is self-supporting success enough for Margaret Law or will her future also include an adoring husband and children? She might secretly yearn for that though how can she avoid a repeat of relationship deceptions that disenchanted her so much during her teenage years?

Employment as a lady’s maid, and then as a private tutor in Liverpool in the 1860s bring thrilling opportunities Margaret could never have envisaged. Though when those posts end, her educational aspirations must be shelved again. Reliance on her sewing skills is paramount for survival when she returns to Dundee.

Meeting Sandy Watson means love, marriage and starting a family – though not necessarily in that order – are a striking development though it entails a move north to Peterhead. Yet, how can Margaret shed her fear of commitment and her independence and take the plunge?

Jessie, her sister-at-heart, is settled in Glasgow. Frequent letters are a life-line between them but when it all goes horribly wrong, the contents of Margaret’s correspondence don’t necessarily mirror her awful day-to-day realities.

Excerpt: A shock to the system

By the time Margaret removed her hand from the sewing machine wheel and reached the door, Violet was gone. Margaret could hear the maidservant hurtling down the stairs to the basement area. Margaret guessed by the haste it wasn’t so that Violet could take a nap in the tiny basement room she shared with Sukey, the room being next to her own little bedroom. But what could put Violet into such a flapping haste?

Thomas, one of the young boarders who had been a resident since before her own arrival, was seated at the kitchen table when she went in, his shoulders heaving. She could see he was trying not to wail but wasn’t really succeeding.

Cook was at the range stirring in a flurry, as though encouraging the contents of the pot to heat instantly.

“Whatever is the matter, Thomas?” Though the lad was now almost sixteen, Margaret had no hesitation in bending down to put her arm around his shoulders, to console him. “Can it be that bad, Thomas?”

He lifted his chin, his bloodshot eyes streaming with tears. “He’s dead.” A series of sniffs alternating with hiccoughs followed.

Margaret rubbed the boy’s shoulders giving him a bit more time. Violet stood next to him looking horrified, her head shaking from side-to-side.

“Can you tell me who is dead?” She couldn’t imagine who he might be talking about.

“Mis…ter Mi…chaud. Mister Michaud is dead.”

Margaret felt her heart thud.

“They told me to run home to warn you. One of the masters is on the way to speak to Mistress Michaud.”

The icy chill that ran down Margaret’s back had to be banished. She knew that Thomas would never tell lies, or play a prank, he just wasn’t the sort. “Take a deep breath, Thomas, and tell us what you know.” Both she and Violet slumped down onto the nearest chairs, their shared glance one of dismay.

“The Mathematics Master was called out of my class, summoned to Mister Michaud’s office.” Thomas took some deep breaths and was recovering a little of his composure. “The next thing I knew was the Mathematics Master was back again and he asked me to step out into the corridor.” The boy hiccoughed again, his expression quite wild. “I was sure I hadn’t done anything wrong.”

Margaret patted his shoulder, reassuring him that he would never be in that position.

“Master Brown then told me that Mister Michaud had been taken unwell at his desk, saying that I had been chosen to run home with the message because I was a boarder here. He was telling me to run home quickly to inform you all when Doctor Turner came along the corridor, the doctor who tends to us all if we need him. He said that I was to tell you that Mister Michaud was dead, that it had happened in an instant, and that you were all to look after Mistress Michaud. Mister Michaud’s heart just stopped. Just like that.” Floods of tears followed again, the boy slumping down onto his elbows on the table, his head cradled. “Mister Michaud is always very strict…was strict with us…but we like him.”

“Oh, Lord.” Violet’s voice intruded, her near-panic evident in her expression. “That’s someone up at the front door, Margaret. Shall I go and you can run up to Mistress Michaud?”

Margaret nodded her agreement but stayed a moment to again soothe Thomas shoulder. “You stay right here with Cook, Thomas.”

Cook bustled over. “I’ve just warmed some milk for you, lad. With a bit of nutmeg in it. Now, you’ll be right as rain down here with me.”

Margaret managed to get up to the sitting room door just in time for Violet to announce the arrival of someone named Mister Peabody, after which Violet slipped back into the corridor indicating she was going up to the room where little Maria was sleeping.

“Why, Mister Peabody!” Surprised by the unexpected visitor, Mary Michaud stood up with a welcoming smile, and laid her hand-sewing on a nearby table. “Please come in.”

Stepping quickly across to Mary Michaud, Margaret stood alongside. The move was a good one since Mister Peabody was clearly uncomfortable and looked unable to come closer, the man’s hat being shredded to bits in his hands.

“I am so very, very sorry to bear dreadful, dreadful news, Mistress Michaud. It is with regard to your husband.”

“What? What’s happened to John?”

Margaret caught hold of her mistress’s elbow and encouraged her to sit back down, taking Mary Michaud’s hand into her own as the Classics Master related what had happened.

“He cannot be dead!” Mary Michaud jumped up again to confront the Classics Master, whom Margaret thought looked to be well-past an age for teaching. “You have to be wrong!”

Taking a few steps out of reach the man continued to stress his sorrow.

The keening that followed was almost inhuman, Mary Michaud’s palms cradling her crown. Like a demented dog with rabies, Mary Michaud paced around the man in complete denial. “John can’t be gone. He can’t!”

Margaret halted her mistress’s tirade, drawing the smaller woman into her embrace, a woman who normally was so very much in control of her herself and her surroundings.

“What will happen without John?” The words were screeched into Margaret’s chest. She did her best to calm the poor woman but it was almost impossible, Mary Michaud was inconsolable.

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Meet Nancy Jardine

Nancy Jardine writes historical adventure fiction, historical saga, time travel historical adventure and contemporary mysteries. Research, grandchildren, gardening fill up her day in the castle country of Aberdeenshire, Scotland, when not writing or promoting her writing. Interacting with readers is a joy at Book and Craft Fairs where she signs/sells paperback versions of her novels. She enjoys giving author presentations on her books and on Ancient Roman Scotland.

Memberships include: Historical Novel Society; Scottish Association of Writers, Federation of Writers Scotland, Romantic Novelists’ Association and the Alliance of Independent Authors. She’s self-published with Ocelot Press.