‘Did you conclude your business with him? I assume he came about the railway.’
‘Yes, he did. I can see why he is successful at what he does. He had facts and figures at his fingertips, quoted stocks and shares and compensation and tried blinding me with science. He’s probably right; the railways are here to stay and it would be commercial suicide to have an estate that could not be reached by rail. Agriculture is in the doldrums, has been for some time, and, if I cut Luffenham off from the advantages of sending produce to the best markets by rail, I am condemning my farmer tenants to penury. And if they are poor, how will they pay their rent?’ He was evidently repeating Lord Moorcroft’s words. ‘He asked me how much coal we used in a year, and though I could not tell him precisely, I knew it must be several tons a month, especially in winter, what with fires and boilers and heating the glasshouses. And that doesn’t take account of what the tenants use. He told me the cost would drop by at least a third if it were brought to us by rail.’
‘It sounds as if you have been convinced,’ the Countess said.
He was reluctant to give up his stance. ‘Not at all. You know I hate doing anything that might diminish the estate, but we are only talking about a small strip of land on the far side. And Moorcroft said the navvies would be gone in a matter of weeks and he would guarantee their discipline. Or rather the young fellow did. It may be why Moorcroft brought him. I have said I will take other advice and let him know, but that was only to get rid of him.’
Lucy excused herself and returned to her sketch of the bridge. Would her father give in? If he did, it meant the navvies would be coming and she might see Mr Myles again. The prospect was both exciting and frightening. Would she see him in his shirtsleeves, loading twenty tons of soil into a wagon? Would he laugh and take Mr Gorridge’s money? Edward Gorridge would not like it. She looked down at the pad on which she had been sketching and realised, with a sense of shock, that she had put Mr Myles on the bridge, leaning over the parapet, and he was easily recognisable. She tore the page out, folded it carefully and put it in her skirt pocket, just as Rosemary dashed into the room. ‘Is it true that tall navvy has been here?’
‘Yes. Who told you that?’
‘Miss Bannister. She saw him arrive and she heard Papa talking to Mama about Lord Moorcroft. He’s not Lord Moorcroft, is he?’
‘No, of course not. He’s a navvy, but Lord Moorcroft brought him. They came to persuade Papa to part with some land for the railway.’
‘Oh, railways, is that all? I’m sick and tried of hearing about them.’
‘Then let us talk of something else. I thought I might take Johnny for a ride this afternoon. He missed us while we were away and he’s longing to show off his prowess. Shall you come?’
The upheaval was over, the danger passed and Lucy was back to being what she had always been, the Earl of Luffenham’s daughter.
‘Mr Myles,’ Lord Moorcroft chortled as they left Luffenham Hall behind and were driving along lanes lined with hawthorn and elder hedges back to Goodthorpe Manor. ‘Mr Myles! What have you been up to, my boy?’
‘Nothing. It was a simple misunderstanding on her ladyship’s part.’
‘Which you did nothing to correct. Ashamed of the name of Moorcroft, are you?’
‘No, Father, not at all.’
‘She’s a handsome wench.’
‘Yes, she is, but I do not think she would appreciate you calling her a wench.’
Henry was still laughing. ‘Had some conversation with her, did you?’
‘When?’ Myles was thinking of Lucy, remembering her in his arms, soft and compliant. She had not cared who he was then.
‘When you met her. You said she accused you of trespassing.’
‘So she did. I met her again later. At Gorridge’s place. She was a guest there. Took me for a navvy.’
‘It was easy enough to prove her wrong, wasn’t it?’
‘Not after what happened. I am afraid I tangled with young Gorridge.’
‘Tell me about it.’
Myles had never had any trouble in confiding in his father and they often enjoyed a joke together, which was what they did now over the tale of the barrel of ale. Henry’s laugh was a loud rumble that started in his belly and shook the coach in which they were travelling.
‘It’s not that funny,’ Myles said.
‘Not if you’ve fallen for the lady,’ Henry said, wiping his eyes with an enormous handkerchief. ‘You haven’t exactly begun on the right note.’
‘Perhaps not. But when she asked my name and I said Myles, she assumed it was my surname and I decided not to correct her. If she can like me as a navvy, then she likes me because I am me, and not because of who I might one day become.’
‘Well, that’s a daft reason if ever I heard one. Navvy or my son, makes no difference, you haven’t a hope of marrying her.’
‘Why not?’
‘You are too bourgeois, my lad. Your grandfather was a mill owner, a working man, and the fact that he was granted a peerage by George the Third for making soldiers’ uniforms won’t cut any ice with the Earl. As far as he is concerned, the old King was soft in the head and ennobled anyone who took his fancy.’
‘Is that true?’
Henry shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
‘But it was a long time ago and you have proved your worth since then. And Mama’s people did not look down their noses at you.’
‘No, they were on their uppers with an estate going steadily downhill, so they gave in. We should have defied them and married anyway. We both knew there would never be anyone else for either of us.’
‘It could happen again.’
Henry laughed. ‘You have to win over the lady first. And the Earl. Mind you, if what I’ve heard is true, he’s land rich but cash poor, which is why he might be persuaded, given the right incentive.’
‘You have offered him a lot of money for his little piece of land. More than it’s worth.’
‘There is that, of course, but I was thinking of Gorridge. He’s got an interest, too, don’t forget, and if he thinks you are poaching his preserves, he might cut the rug from under us and advise the Earl to hold out for more. He might, if you put young Gorridge’s nose out of joint, withdraw his own backing.’
‘Are you saying I should stand back and let that drunken, selfish lout marry Lucy?’
‘No. I wouldn’t expect you to comply if I did. But hold hard, will you, until everything is signed and sealed? I could make up the shortfall myself, but it would mean some retrenchment in other areas and I would rather not. And we need the Earl’s bit of land. To go all the way round it means digging a huge cutting through the hill.’ He laughed again. ‘You will get plenty of practice shifting crock if that happens.’
Myles knew that it could make the whole line unviable if they had to spend more than they had bargained for, but it was not the line Myles was thinking about, but Lucy. His father seemed to read his thoughts, for he suddenly said, ‘Be patient, Myles, and remember you are as good as a Vernley any day, and certainly better than young Gorridge, because you are not a parasite on the land.’
Myles fell silent, thinking of Lucy, contrasting the way she had fallen into his arms beside the lake, the sheer pleasure of kissing her, knowing he was giving her pleasure, too, with the stiff way she had dispensed tea in her father’s drawing room. Which was the Lucinda Vernley she felt most comfortable with?
Chapter Five
Lucy was at sixes and sevens. She could not settle to anything. Whatever she did, wherever she went, something served to remind her of the navvy. It might only be a spade left lying about by a gardener or the sound of the river on its way down to the sea, or a kestrel flying high above the moors, or even a white post stuck in the ground. He was everywhere; he was nowhere. It was no good hiding the truth from herself; she had fallen in love, and it was hopeless and she was miserable. All sorts of fancies filled her head. She thought of elopement, but she had no idea if he would contemplate such a thin
g; of living together unwed, as so many navvies were reputed to do, but the idea of that appalled her. It was the height of wickedness and she had always been God-fearing. If they did that, they would pay for their sin in hell. On this earth their love for each other would be eroded by the guilt and poverty until they ended up hating each other and by then she would be beyond redemption, a fallen woman no longer recognised even by her own family.
She dreamed of him finding long-buried treasure while excavating crock, or doing her father a great good turn for which he was prepared not only to sanction a marriage but to make sure they wanted for nothing. It was all too silly for words. Life was not like that. And besides, he had never said he wanted to marry her, or even be with her. All he had ever said was, ‘We will meet again,’ which could mean something and nothing.
She was angry with herself for her obsession and tried her best to interest herself in all the things she normally used to fill her time—needlework, sketching, riding, visiting—but they all seemed so pointless. She wished she could go away, somewhere where there were no reminders, where she had never encountered him and no one knew anything about him. She might then realise he was not important to her happiness at all. And then the opportunity arrived in the shape of an invitation one day in early October.
Georgina had been her friend since they were at a young ladies’ seminar together and they had always corresponded and met regularly. Georgina had married Sir Gerald Brotherton earlier in the year and had come back from her wedding tour to settle in Peterborough. ‘Come and visit me,’ she had written. ‘Stay a week or two. I have so much to tell you and I want to hear all about your Season in town.’
She had asked her mother if she might go and, after consulting the Earl, the Countess agreed and the arrangements were soon made. She would be sent in the family coach with Sarah to attend her and the coach would come back empty, so that the Countess could have the use of it. It would be sent to fetch her at the end of her stay in time for the arrival of the Gorridges.
A week later found her alighting from the carriage outside a substantial villa in the middle of Peterborough, within walking distance of the cathedral and the shops. The door was flung wide and Georgina ran down the steps to embrace her. ‘Oh, you are finally here. So much has happened since we last met. It seems years ago.’
‘It was at your wedding, Georgie, only six months ago.’ Lucy was kissed on each cheek and taken by the arm and dragged indoors while a manservant helped Sarah unload the luggage. The coachman was going to stay a night at a nearby inn before returning to Luffenham. It crossed Lucy’s mind that when the railway was built, there would be no need for a coach to travel from her home to Peterborough, but thinking of railways was a risky thing to do considering it inevitably led to thoughts of Mr Myles. She had promised herself she would not think of him at all and quickly turned to more immediate matters. She was here for a change of scenery and to enjoy a visit with an old friend, and that she meant to do.
Georgina was rosy cheeked and a little plumper than Lucy remembered, but she was just as bubbly, full of questions, hardly waiting for the answers before moving on to the next, and enthusiastic about everything. Gerry, who practised as a lawyer in the town, would be back for dinner, she told Lucy, and in the meantime they would catch up on the gossip. She led the way into the drawing room where tea was laid out. ‘We’ll have tea while your maid is unpacking and then I will show you to your room. We don’t keep a large staff and we don’t stand on ceremony, so you must make yourself at home.’
‘Marriage seems to suit you,’ Lucy said when she was able to get a word in.
‘Oh, it does, it does, I can thoroughly recommend it. With the right man, of course. Nothing could be worse than being tied to the wrong man, but luckily for me Gerry is a pet and we love each other dearly.’
‘You are very fortunate.’
‘Indeed, I am, but that is not to say you cannot be equally happy. Tell me about your coming-out. Did you meet the man of your dreams?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘Not exactly. What sort of answer is that?’
Lucy laughed. ‘I mean, no. I met someone my parents seem very keen on…’
‘But you are not?’
‘I like him well enough.’
‘Well enough is not good enough, Lucy. It has to be much stronger than that. It has to be love, passionate love, nothing less.’
‘Then perhaps I will never meet him. I am told passion is something a lady never feels.’
‘Rubbish! If that were so, then I cannot be a lady.’ This, coming from the daughter of a marquis, was clearly not true.
‘Tell me, what is it? How do you recognise it? How do you know if the other person feels it, too?’
‘You know. It is a meeting of souls and minds and bodies, all three welded into one huge emotion that takes over your whole being. You can hardly think of anything else but when you last saw him, what you did, what you said, the feel of his hand in yours, how you trembled when he kissed you, what you will do until you see him again, and you know life without him is unthinkable.’
Lucy recognised the symptoms. ‘Even if he is entirely unsuitable?’
Georgie gave her a startled look. ‘So, you do know what I’m talking about?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Is he very unsuitable?’
‘Out of the question.’
‘Oh, dear, you are in a pickle, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, I suppose I am.’
‘Do your parents know?’
‘Good heavens, they would throw up their hands in horror. I hoped coming away for a few days might cure me.’
‘It might, but if it does, then it wasn’t love in the first place.’ She laughed lightly. ‘But I shall do my best to divert you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Shopping is one remedy and meeting new people another. I attend a reading group, which is great fun and not at all serious. You’ll come, won’t you?’ She did not wait for an answer before continuing. ‘We will take a picnic into the country on Wednesday and, on Saturday week, Lady Croxon is giving a ball in honour of Harriet’s engagement to the Honourable Leonard Sumpter. You remember Harriet, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’ Harriet Croxon was another of their school friends, though Lucy had not kept in touch with her.
‘I told her you would be staying with me and she has extended the invitation to include you. You have brought a ballgown, I hope.’
‘Yes. Mama said to bring one in case.’
And so they chatted. They talked all through tea, all through a tour of the house and when Lucy was shown her room, and Sarah sent to fetch hot water for her to wash and change for dinner. They hardly drew breath through dinner itself, much to the tolerant amusement of Sir Gerald. He did not sit alone after the meal, but came with them into the drawing room where they talked some more, until they suddenly ran out of breath and subjects to discuss. In all that time, Lucy’s dilemma was never mentioned.
‘There’s going to be a public meeting at the Assembly Rooms tomorrow evening,’ Sir Gerald said, finding that at last they had stopped and he could contribute more to the conversation than the occasional affirmative or negative. ‘It should be interesting. I’ve a mind to go, if you can spare me.’
‘What is it about?’ his wife asked him.
‘This new railway from Leicester. Lucy will know about that, considering the proposed line goes over her father’s land.’
There was no escape and Lucy resigned herself to this new topic. ‘My father is not inclined to agree to it. He thinks the disruption to our way of life will be too great. Surely that is not why they need a meeting?’
‘No, I don’t think so. There are already proposals to include Peterborough on the proposed Northern Direct and to join it to East Anglian and the Midland via Blisworth, and some people think enough is enough, so the meeting is to persuade them otherwise. And raise more finance.’
‘Are you interested?’ Lucy as
ked.
‘As a lawyer, I must be. I am sometimes asked by my clients what I think of such and such a proposal. I should like to hear what these railway people have to say for themselves.’
‘So would I,’ Lucy said suddenly. ‘Would it be possible for me to attend?’
He looked startled for a moment, then smiled. ‘Of course. It is open to all. What about you, Georgie?’
‘If Lucy wants to go, then of course I will come with you. I only hope we shall not be bored to death.’
They took their seats early, which was just as well because the hall soon became packed. It was a mixed audience. There were working men and women, many businessmen and a few railway employees, anxious to hear about new jobs. There were farmers, doctors, engineers and a scattering of gentry sitting near the front, murmuring among themselves. The subject, Lucy realised, was of universal interest. Most people were interested in the practicalities, the costs, the engineering, the advantages, the returns they might expect should they decide to invest, how strong the opposition was. Some wanted to be reassured the navvies would be disciplined and held to account for any damage they did. The damage they could do, and had done, was legendary. Lucy was perhaps the only one interested in the navvies as flesh-and-blood people who could, as Mr Myles had pointed out to her, feel pain and rejection. Here she was, thinking about him again and it was her own fault for asking to come. Did she enjoy giving herself grief?
The murmur of conversation ceased as a gentleman came on to the stage. ‘That’s our mayor,’ Georgie whispered to Lucy.
He began by welcoming everyone and then proceeded to introduce the gentlemen who were going to speak to them and answer their questions. The first to take his place on the row of chairs behind him was Lord Moorcroft. And then Mr Joseph Masters, who was followed, to Lucy’s consternation, by Myles, who was introduced as Mr Myles Moorcroft. It was definitely her navvy, her Mr Myles, but this one was a gentleman. He dressed like a gentleman, carried himself like a gentleman and, when he was asked to speak, his voice was cultured, his accents refined. She realised she had taken his given name for his surname and she felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. He was Lord Moorcroft’s son! That was why he had come to Luffenham with his lordship and why her father had been so scathing about the way he had been brought up. Oh, what a fool she had been and how he must have laughed at her.
Mary Nichols Page 10
