Lucy smiled. ‘I shall not mind in the least, Mr Gorridge. With you to protect me, what have I to fear?’
He looked sharply at her, but decided to take her words at face value and began the downward descent to where the men worked.
Myles heard the horses and looked up as they approached. ‘Hey up,’ he said to Joe. ‘Here’s our friend of last night.’
‘I said we hadn’t seen the last of him,’ Masters said. ‘And he’s got the Earl of Luffenham’s daughter with him.’
‘So he has,’ Myles said, as if he had only just seen the man’s companion, though she was the one he had noticed first.
‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ Edward greeted them and dismounted.
‘Good afternoon. My lady.’ Myles spoke guardedly.
‘You know Lady Lucinda?’ Edward queried.
Myles saw Lucy shaking her head behind her escort. ‘No, sir, I have not had the honour of being presented.’
‘Nor will you have,’ Edward said. ‘Lucy, my dear, take no notice of him. Wait a little way off. My business will not take long.’
Lucy had no intention of being dismissed in that fashion and she resented Mr Gorridge’s condescending attitude towards her. She dismounted and stood beside her horse. He started to nibble the grass, while both she and Myles waited to see what would happen next. He was looking at Edward, but he was all too aware of Lucy. She was wearing the same elegant habit she had worn before; it clung to her breasts and waist before flowing out around her feet. Her face was slightly flushed and her eyes were alight. With amusement? Mischief? He could not tell and wished the others could be made to disappear so that he could be alone with her. He might be able to explain many things he wanted her to know, but there was no chance of that, so he prepared to listen to whatever it was Gorridge had to say.
‘I believe I owe you the price of a barrel of ale,’ Edward said. ‘It has been left in cash with the publican at the Golden Lion. Let it not be said Edward Gorridge does not honour his debts.’
‘It is of no account. A barrel of ale was a small price to pay for an evening’s entertainment.’
‘No doubt.’ Edward’s voice was clipped. ‘But a debt is a debt. On the other hand, there was no call to extend it beyond the hostelry and humiliate me when I was too ill to protest.’
‘Ill?’ Myles smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. ‘I would have done the same for any man.’
‘No doubt you would, having no pretension to the manners of a gentleman.’
‘I say,’ Joe protested. ‘That was uncalled for.’
‘Hush, Joe,’ Myles said. ‘Mr Gorridge is right and I should apologise.’
It was more than Edward had expected. ‘Apology accepted. But that doesn’t mean the other matter is forgotten.’
‘Other matter?’
‘To shift twenty tons of rubble in a day.’
‘When the line goes through.’
‘When do you think that will be?’
‘As soon as the surveying is done and the rest of the finance raised. I believe Viscount Gorridge is one of the principals, so I do not envisage any problems. Except, of course, the Earl is holding back.’
‘He will come round. He and my father were discussing it only yesterday. I am sure, when the advantages are pointed out to him, he will let you have his piece of land. He might even be persuaded to invest some of his own money and you will need to look no further for your finance.’
‘That would certainly hurry things up.’
‘What are the advantages?’ Lucy asked, determined not to be left out of the discussion, though what she could contribute she did not know. It was simply that she did not like being ignored and she wanted the navvy to notice her.
‘Why, with our own railway station we can hop on a train any time we like, go wherever we like,’ Edward answered. ‘Once the line from London to York is completed, I can reach our house in Yorkshire inside a day.’
‘And there is the question of freight,’ Myles added. ‘Farm produce can reach the markets of London in hours. We can send milk that would otherwise turn sour before it arrived, and chickens and fish from the rivers, all farm fresh. Heavy goods like coal and fertiliser, even livestock can go by rail. Soon there will be railways all over the country. Every town and village will have a station. It will provide work for men for years.’
‘Yes, well, you had better not try poaching our labourers,’ Edward said.
Myles laughed. ‘They would be useless. It takes a year to turn a farm labourer into a navvy. They don’t have the muscle.’
Edward also laughed. ‘For shifting twenty tons of rubble a day.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Well, we shall see if it can be done when the time comes. I bid you good day, sir. Come, Lucy, time to go home.’
He flung himself on his horse, leaving Lucy, who was already annoyed with him for being so familiar with her, to look about for somewhere to mount. The navvy, seeing her dilemma, came to Cinder’s side and bent to offer his clasped hands. She put her foot in them and he lifted her easily into the saddle. When she had settled her skirt about her, he picked up the reins and put them into her hands and somehow managed to put his own hand over hers and leave it there for a fraction of a second. Even through her gloves she was aware of the slight pressure and, startled, looked into his upturned face. ‘Take care, my lady,’ he murmured. ‘Until we meet again.’
Thoroughly confused, she managed to thank him and rode after Mr Gorridge. The effrontery of the man! Until we meet again, indeed! He was a bad as Mr Gorridge, who had deliberately tried to give the impression that he owned her. They had made no commitment to each other; it had never been discussed between them. Surely he was not taking it for granted? Or was his behaviour something to do with the navvy? Why did she suddenly feel as if the two men were in competition and she was the prize? She didn’t even know the navvy’s name, where he came from or anything about him. All she did know was that he disturbed her and that she seemed destined to keep meeting him.
‘He’s a strange one.’ Joe, like Myles, watched until they had gone from sight. ‘Didn’t seem to bear a grudge for last night at all.’
‘He couldn’t with the lady present, could he? I’ll wager he won’t forget it.’
‘Then watch your back.’
‘He was very familiar with her. You don’t suppose they are to marry, do you?’
Joe shrugged. ‘How should I know? What does it matter?’ He looked closely at Myles. ‘You aren’t thinking of setting your cap at her, are you?’
‘It might be fun.’
‘It might be dangerous, especially if you want the Earl’s co-operation over the line.’
‘I thrive on a challenge.’
‘You won’t get anywhere with her by playing the navvy. I don’t know why you do it.’
‘Yes, you do. I feel more comfortable talking to the men dressed as they are, and they are more comfortable with me. Besides, I would look an idiot, using a shovel in drawing-room clothes.’
‘And you don’t have to do that, either.’
‘No, which is why the men respect me. I don’t ask them to do anything I can’t do myself.’
‘Like shifting twenty tons of crock. You’ll look an even bigger idiot if you fail that test.’
Myles laughed. ‘Oh, ye of little faith.’
Joe shrugged. ‘Let’s get back to work. I would like to finish this section and go home tonight, even if you don’t.’
‘Oh, I’m going home. I don’t fancy another evening in Gorridge’s company.’ He smiled to himself. Her name was Lucy and he had Gorridge to thank for that piece of information. He savoured the name, repeating it in his head. Lucy. It suited her. And, dangerous or not, he meant to pursue her. He couldn’t let her marry that man who would make her thoroughly miserable, when she was meant to laugh and to be happy. ‘Lucy, my sweet,’ he murmured to himself. ‘We shall meet again and then we’ll see what we shall see.’
‘Did you enjoy your ride?
’ the Countess asked her daughter. Lucy had gone up to her room to change and had met her mother on the landing.
‘Yes, thank you, Mama. I was just coming up to change for dinner. I imagine it will be formal tonight.’ She opened her door and her mother followed her in and sat on a chaise-longue at the foot of the bed.
‘Yes. Wear your dark-blue watered taffeta. It is very becoming and shows off your figure.’
‘Yes, Mama.’ She kicked off her riding boots and began taking off her habit. ‘I couldn’t make up my mind between that and the cerise silk.’
‘There is no need to hurry. Sit down, child, and talk to me for a moment. Tell me what happened this afternoon.’
‘Happened, Mama?’ She sat next to her mother in her chemise and petticoats and pulled the pins from her hair, making it tumble about her shoulders. ‘Nothing happened. We rode up on to Gorrymoor and looked at the view. It is splendid. You can see for miles and miles. Right across the lake to the edge of the Luffenham domain.’
‘Dorothea and Mr Ashbury came home some time ago.’
‘Yes, she said she had to do an errand for Lady Gorridge and Mr Ashbury went with her. I am sorry, I did not know she was going to do that. There was nothing I could do about it.’
‘But why should you want to do anything about it? I expect Dorothea was being tactful.’
Lucy laughed. ‘She was more clumsy than tactful, Mama.’
‘Whichever it was, did Mr Gorridge use the opportunity to propose?’
‘No, Mama.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘I imagine because he did not want to.’
‘But I have been assured that he does. You must have said or done something to put him off.’
‘I did not. Or if I did it was unintentional.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘We were riding. We did not talk much at all. He was more interested in the railway line. You could see the stakes marking the line all the way to Luffenham land.’ She omitted to mention the encounter with the navvy, though there was no reason why she should.
‘Oh, you make me lose all patience. Everything has been contrived to make it easy for you both and you still hold fire. It is too bad of you.’
‘Mama, why is it so important? If he does not want to marry me, I am not going to throw myself at his feet and beg him to propose. Quite apart from the humiliation, it would only end in misery for both of us.’
‘But he does want to marry you. He has told Lord Gorridge so and he has said so to Papa. It is only shyness holding him back. I suggest you try a little harder.’
‘Why, Mama? Why is it so important?’ Shy was one of the things she decided Edward Gorridge was not.
‘Your papa has said it is. It is something to do with the families being united and the settlements. Don’t ask me what they are. I do not involve myself in financial matters.’
‘Perhaps you should. I feel as though I am being sold to the highest bidder.’
‘Lucinda! Do not let me hear you say anything like that again. It is a shocking thing to say about your papa, who has loved you and looked after you and wants only the very best for you. And Mr Edward Gorridge can and will provide it. You will never get a better offer. It is the duty of every young lady with any claim to rank and position to marry and marry well—that’s how great families keep the lines pure and increase their wealth. But I shouldn’t need to tell you that, should I?’
‘No, Mama, but Mr Edward Gorridge is not the only bachelor in the world.’ Even as she spoke Lucy was presented with a mind picture of the navvy, big and powerful, his hand on hers, promising they would meet again. Was he a bachelor? She shook herself. She must not, she really must not, keep thinking of that man. He was certainly not a good reason for refusing Mr Gorridge.
‘Lucy, you are shivering,’ her mother said, noticing the shudder. ‘You must not catch a chill. Wrap yourself in your robe until your hot water is brought. I’ll go and ask them to hurry it up.’ She stood up. ‘And, Lucy, please make an effort tonight.’
Make an effort, Lucy thought, as her mother left her, make an effort to do what? Like Mr Gorridge? She did like him. At least, she didn’t dislike him. Encourage him into making a proposal? How could she do that if he had made up his mind he would not? His behaviour towards her that afternoon had been proprietorial, as if he had already done so and she had accepted. Were they just going to drift into it, with no romance at all? She put on a dressing gown, sat on the bed with knees clasped to her chest and contemplated a future with Edward Gorridge. She could not deny the material advantages, they were plain to see—but what of the rest, mutual affection, interests in common, the passion her mother had so vehemently denied as if it were a sin? Was it a sin?
Her hot water arrived along with her maid and the next hour was spent getting ready for the evening.
The evening was a convivial one, the food sumptuous and the conversation varied. The fishing had been good and Rosemary had won herself a new hat; the gardens were superb and the gardeners to be congratulated; in someone’s opinion, French chefs were infinitely superior to British cooks, which statement was attested by the splendour of the Viscount’s table. Music was discussed and literature; The Three Musketeers, so someone said, was a good read if you took the story with a pinch of salt, and someone else preferred home-grown stories and recommended Dickens’s work.
It was inevitable that some of the guests should remark on the line of stakes they had seen and that led inevitably to a discussion about railways. The company was evenly divided when it came to embracing the changes the railways were bringing and deploring the desecration of the countryside and the invasion of the men who came to build them. ‘Uncouth, foul-mouthed savages,’ one red-faced, whiskery gentleman said. ‘They throw up their evil huts just wherever the fancy takes them, their children run around in rags with no schooling and no notion of cleanliness, and the least said about their morals the better, but if I were you, Gorridge, I should tell your people to lock up their women.’
‘They aren’t all bad,’ another said. ‘I know Morton Peto and his lines are well managed and so are Henry Moorcroft’s. If he is building this section, then I doubt you’ll have trouble.’
‘Trouble,’ a third put in. ‘If you want to know about trouble, I suggest you go and inspect the Woodhead tunnel. Nothing but trouble there.’ The building of a tunnel through the Pennines to link east to west had already been going on for years. There were some who said it would never be finished.
‘The more I hear, the more I am inclined not to allow the line anywhere near my land,’ the Earl said.
‘That would be a pity,’ Lord Gorridge told him. ‘It would mean taking our line round the far side of the lake. You would lose the advantage of being close to a line.’
‘It seems to me the disadvantages outweigh the advantages.’
‘It is always the same,’ Lady Gorridge complained. ‘Whenever Gorridge has a few friends about him, the conversation inevitably turns to railways. I don’t know what he finds so fascinating about them. They are nasty, dirty, smoky things.’
‘My dear,’ he said patiently, ‘we cannot hold back progress, it is inevitable. I find the whole concept exciting, but, as you are so right to point out, I should not bore the ladies with it, so I will say no more. What had you planned for our evening’s entertainment?’
‘I thought we might play charades,’ she said. ‘If everyone agrees. Or we might have some music. Dorothea has been practising a new piece by Chopin and I know of others in the company who are talented.’ She beamed round at one or two of the young ladies. ‘Or cards. We could set up the tables for whist.’
Charades was decided upon and, while the ladies repaired to the drawing room and the tea cups and the men continued their discussion about railways, Lady Gorridge sent two footmen up to the attic to bring down a box of costumes and props. When the gentlemen joined them, everyone was paired off to decide what they would enact. Inevitably Lucy found herself with Edwar
d.
After some deliberation, they chose The Pickwick Papers, for which the props were easy. A candle was called for and Lucy made great play of pulling at its wick, while Edward fetched a bundle of newspapers from the library, which the gentlemen had discarded earlier in the day. Someone said, ‘Burning the candle at both ends,’ but everyone decried that as having nothing to do with newspapers. They went through it again. ‘Hiding one’s light under a bushel’ was another suggestion, but it was Rosie, watching Lucy plucking at the wick of the candle, who finally guessed it. Others took their turn. Hamlet was soon guessed, as was ‘A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,’ but Victor and Dorothea’s Persuasion foxed them all.
After that some of the older members of the company retired while the younger ones asked Dorothea to play for dancing. Lucy found herself dancing a waltz with Edward. He danced well and she allowed the music do its work, but because he did not talk, she found herself wondering and dreaming. She began to imagine that it was not Mr Gorridge who held her, but the navvy whose name she did not know, but whose presence in her heart and mind could not be denied. Could he dance? If Edward were to propose now, would the very fact that she seemed obsessed by another man make her refuse him? Even if the other man was a not-so-common labourer who should not be in her thoughts at all? How could she banish him? Did she even want to? But she must. This nonsense had gone on long enough. If Edward proposed, she might as well say yes and be done with it; holding out for no good reason could only bring heartache to everyone concerned.
Except he didn’t. The dance ended, the evening ended, they said goodnight and parted, and he didn’t say a word, except, ‘Goodnight. Pleasant dreams. Tomorrow is another day.’ What was she supposed to make of that?
Chapter Four
The next day and those after that followed a predictable course: the men went shooting and fishing, the ladies occupied themselves in more genteel pursuits, like sketching, strolling about the grounds and gossiping. Edward was frequently in Lucy’s company, but she waited in vain for a proposal. She did not know whether to be affronted or relieved. Perhaps he was waiting for their last evening when there was to be a grand ball, to which anyone who was anyone in the area had been invited. Preparations had been going on in the background for most of the week and a huge tent was being erected on the lawn. It was an annual event to celebrate the bringing in of the harvest. The labourers had their party in the barn of the home farm, but this was for the family to show their appreciation to the middlemen: farmers, factors, the doctor and the parson—not, in Lady Gorridge’s view, the sort to be invited into the ballroom of the house. Lucy had heard that the railway engineer had been invited, but nothing was said about his assistant. He was probably expected to sup with the labourers.
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