Lakeland Lily by Freda Lightfoot Page B

could but bring him to the point. Margot sighed. She had rather hoped that Bertie and Dora would have taken to each other by now, and if young people today were not half so pernickety they would certainly have done so. Yet it remained Margot’s all-consuming dream to bring the marriage about. She hadn’t yet given up hope, and enjoyed Edith Ferguson-Walshes full support in her campaign. If the two women had their way, the young couple would be married by Christmas.
    The September picnic to Kelda Bay was Margot’s chance to bring this desired state of affairs to fruition. This would be the crowning glory of her year. If she couldn’t bring Bertie to a decision at the picnic, then she would eat her best hat!

Chapter Six
     
    The golden September sun burned through the wreaths of mist floating over the lake. Flat calm, it was a perfect day for a sail. The mountains basked in the sunshine. Even the becks were running quietly, as if reluctant to disturb that quiet autumnal magic.
    From the moment she arrived at the small stone jetty, Lily knew she was not welcome. Margot and Selene ushered their guests aboard, fussing over where everyone else should sit, ignoring her completely. Edward Clermont-Read scarcely glanced in Lily’s direction as he poured water into a copper vessel rather like a small tea urn.
    ‘It’s called a Windermere kettle,’ Bertie whispered in her ear. ‘Since that’s where it was first invented. Contains a coil of pipe through which high pressure steam from the boiler passes. Boils water in ten seconds, once we’ve got up full steam.’
    Lily said, ‘I see,’ though really she didn’t, and Bertie grinned at her, as pleased as if he’d invented it himself.
    ‘Like her? The boat, I mean. Built on the lines of a real steamship, only in miniature.’
    As the Faith set sail for Kelda Bay Lily told him she thought the boat looked perfect, sleek and gleaming from hours of loving care. Despite her more prosaic motives for wanting this invitation, she’d experienced an unexpected feeling of happiness simply climbing aboard. It had been like stepping into another world: refined, leisurely, gracious. A world where everyday cares and worries did not exist.
    A white funnel shone in the September sunshine and the engineer opened up two glass doors through which he began to tinker with the engine.
    ‘Be laying her up for winter soon, eh, George?’
    ‘Aye, Mr Albert. Clean the boiler tubes, and give her a scrape and varnish.’
    Not a soul addressed Lily as Bertie led her through the panelled saloon and found her a seat on one of the blue leather couches. ‘You’ll be comfortable here,’ he told her. ‘While I go and help Pa up front.’
    Lily thanked him, and after dutifully smiling at one or two people who pretended they hadn’t noticed, perched resolutely on the edge of her seat, gloved hands clasped tightly together, trying not to regret her decision to come .
    Her new blue print dress with its braid trim had seemed perfectly wonderful when she’d first altered it, and even when she’d put it on this morning. Now, it felt drab and second-hand. For all she’d trimmed her new straw hat with a fresh pink rose and a length of baby blue ribbon, it too felt somehow cheap and tawdry.
    At the far end of the boat, sitting in the stern, she could see Selene talking earnestly to her mother. The two of them kept looking daggers in Lily’s direction. Would Bertie suffer a dressing-down for daring to bring her? She rather thought so.
    She glanced in the opposite direction, to where Bertie stood at the brass wheel so he could be in charge of steering the steam-yacht as he clearly loved to do. He caught her eye, lifted a hand and waved. Upon the instant Lily felt better. She drew in a deep breath and slid back more comfortably upon the seat, deciding that cruising was really rather pleasant, and she fully intended to enjoy the day. Even the smell of the hot steam and Welsh sea coal was intoxicating.
    And if no