Mary Nichols

by Society Bride Working Man

  ‘Oh, Myles,’ she said again, unable to express the tumbled emotions that beset her: joy, hope, despair in equal measure.

  ‘Well?’

  She made a feeble attempt to laugh. ‘Yours is the second proposal I have had today.’

  ‘Damn! I am too late. You have accepted him.’

  ‘No, I said I needed time to think about it.’

  ‘Do you need to think about it?’

  ‘No, only about how I can say no without giving offence, not only to him but to Papa and Mama and his parents.’

  ‘You won’t let that weigh with you, will you? It is your life, your happiness.’ He paused and ran a finger down her cheek, making her shiver. ‘And mine, too. I cannot contemplate life without you. Say you will make me the happiest man in the world. Say you will marry me.’

  ‘How can I? My father would never agree.’

  ‘I seem to remember you saying that about him allowing the railway on his land and yet here we are. We shall have to persuade him.’

  ‘How? Myles, how?’

  ‘I don’t know. I must give it some thought.’ He wondered whether to ask her if she would consider defying her father, but knew that was too much to ask. She would not risk being cut off from the rest of her family and he knew that was not the way for them to be happy. ‘I suppose I had better start by throwing off the navvy and behaving like a gentleman.’

  ‘Oh, Myles, you must not change your way for my sake. You are you and it is the you that you are whom I love.’

  He put his arms about her and hugged her to him. ‘You are amazing. Do you know what I said to my father? I said I wanted you to love me for the man I am and not for what I have or might become. And you do, don’t you, my darling?’

  ‘Oh, yes, but I am so afraid of the storm.’

  ‘We will weather it together.’

  ‘I am afraid of living in a hut, too. I should not manage, I know I should not.’

  ‘Live in a hut, Lucy? Oh, my darling, you surely did not think I would ask that of you? You shall have the best of everything. I am successful at what I do. As for my prospects, you know I am my father’s heir and will in due course come into a large engineering concern, a woollen mill and the railway business—not the sort of wealth your father approves of, but you would never want for anything. As for my antecedents, my mother is the daughter of Viscount Porson and that title goes back several generations. You will not be marrying a navvy, my love.’

  ‘I wouldn’t care. I love the navvy, too. I would be proud to be a navvy’s wife.’

  He smiled. ‘Bless you for that.’ He tipped her face up and kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead and each cheek and then her lips. He was so gentle, so considerate, and she knew he would stop instantly if she asked him to, but she did not ask it. She clung to him in a kind of desperation, wanting to savour every moment, knowing it would not come again. What he was suggesting was the stuff of dreams and she did not want to wake up.

  ‘We won’t say anything yet,’ he murmured. ‘Wait until we’ve finished this section of railway and are off Luffenham land. Then I’ll ask my mother to invite the Countess for tea or something like that. We’ll try and get your mother on our side for a start.’

  ‘I don’t think she dare defy Papa. It was she who forbade me to speak to you.’

  ‘Ah, but she only knows the navvy in me and believes all the stories she has heard about how navvies behave.’

  ‘They are not true?’

  ‘Oh, undoubtedly some of them are. I could tell you some shocking tales, but it doesn’t happen on Moorcroft lines because my father knows what it’s like to be a labouring man and so he treats his workers like human beings and they repay him with loyalty and affection. It is something I strive for myself, which is why I learned to be a navvy. With a few exceptions, our men are hardworking, no drunker than most, and we encourage them to marry the women they live with. If some of them are allowed to come to church on Sunday, perhaps your mama will see the good side of them.’

  ‘Oh, so it was your idea to bring them to church. They did not think of it themselves.’

  ‘They did, but I saw the advantages, especially as the reverend was enthusiastic. He went among them yesterday, having a word here and a word there, so you may put the idea down to him.’

  ‘What did happen yesterday? I gather you won your wager.’

  ‘Yes, easily.’

  ‘Easily? Mr Gorridge said your friends had to carry you, that you were too exhausted to stand.’

  He laughed. ‘They carried me shoulder high, cheering. And they cheered even more when I gave them the wager money to celebrate.’ He paused and grinned ruefully. ‘That’s not to say I didn’t have an ache here and there through being out of condition, but Gorridge knew nothing of that.’

  ‘Good for you. I am proud of you.’

  ‘Thank you, sweetheart. Now, much as I would like to keep you here, I think you had better go home before someone comes looking for you, especially if the Reverend lets out that he left us together.’ He stood up and held out his hand. She took it and together they walked back to the door.

  ‘You know,’ he said. ‘When you came into the church just now and I turned and watched you coming down the aisle, I imagined I was standing there watching you come down to join me for our wedding. I thought about how beautiful you would look in your wedding gown and how gloriously happy I would be. And how, half an hour later, we should be leaving the church arm-in-arm as husband and wife, with everyone throwing rose petals and wishing us well.’

  His words brought her back to the seemingly unsolvable problem of her parents’ implacable opposition. And there was also Viscount Gorridge’s ‘consideration,’ whatever that was. ‘Papa and Mama would not be among them,’ she said. ‘And you will have made an enemy of Mr Gorridge. When he told me you had won the wager, he said that was all you had won.’

  ‘I know, he said the same thing to me. You must think my love a poor thing if I am put off by things like that.’

  ‘I do not know what he will say when I turn him down.’

  ‘You are not afraid of him, are you?’

  ‘No, I do not think so, but I hate dissension. I shall be in disgrace.’

  ‘When is he going home?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow, but they are all coming back for Christmas and the hunt.’

  ‘Then tell him you will give him his answer then. The Luffenham section of line should be finished by then and the navvies gone.’

  ‘And you along with them.’

  ‘Yes, but I shall not be far away. When the storm breaks, if it breaks, and you need me, I will come.’

  They stood a moment in the porch, knowing they would have to release each other and go their separate ways. He kissed her. ‘Be patient, my love, all will be well.’

  She moved away from him, still holding his hand, reluctant to let go. He squeezed her fingers. ‘Go on, sweetheart. My love goes with you.’

  She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and then turned and hurried away. She dare not look back, because if she did she would run back to him and he was right—they must have patience.

  Slowly he turned and fetched Trojan from the Plough where he had left him and set off back to the navvy camp. There were one or two things he needed to check on before he went home, but he was in a buoyant mood. Lucy loved him and he loved her and he could not see that anything could stand in their way for long. He would talk to his mother, enlist her help. Surely the Countess would not be so uncivil as to refuse her admittance if his mother called on her socially. After all, she was a lady born and bred, daughter of a viscount.

  At the camp he spoke to O’Malley about the next day’s work and then walked forward along the line of the railway, checking the stakes and marking those trees on the edge of the copse that needed to be felled before the excavators arrived. He was turning for home when he heard the sound of a woman giggling and a man’s chuckle. Guessing what they were at and not wishing to intrude, he turned aw
ay, but then he recognised the man’s voice. ‘You’re a little fireball, aren’t you, my sweet? Much better than the simpering miss I’m expected to marry. God, I shall need someone like you when that happens.’

  ‘Why marry, then?’

  ‘My dear papa thinks being married will settle me down and keep me on the straight and narrow.’

  ‘I don’ reckon it will, do you?’

  ‘Not a hope while there’s accommodating little ladies like you around.’

  Myles heard more scuffling and then a chuckle and a giggle. Unable to contain himself, he walked towards the sound and found the two lying on the ground half-naked. He made no effort to be quiet and the girl, who was no more than fifteen, turned and gasped when she saw who it was, then endeavoured to cover herself. ‘Go home, Lottie,’ he said quietly.

  She picked up her skirt and scuttled away and he turned to face Edward, who was grinning complacently. ‘You disgust me,’ he said. ‘Lottie is no more than a child.’

  ‘Oh, she’s no child. She’s all woman. And willing.’

  ‘I should tell her parents and they’d have the whole camp after you.’

  ‘But you won’t, will you?’ He pulled at his riding breeches and tucked in his shirt. ‘Who’d believe you? And I reckon the last thing you want is trouble between the navvies and Lord Luffenham.’

  ‘What about Lady Lucinda?’

  ‘What’s she got to do with it?’

  ‘I was given to understand you had offered her marriage.’

  ‘So I have. A fine wife she’ll make, too, a well-bred mother for my children, but that doesn’t mean I have to curtail all my pleasures.’

  Myles let fly with one clenched fist. He didn’t need another blow. Edward went down like a stone. He stood over him until he came round. ‘That was instead of sending Lottie’s father after you,’ he said. ‘But touch her again and you will live to rue the day.’

  Edward shook his head as if to knock his brains back into place, then rubbed his chin, which was feeling decidedly sore. ‘I wonder if it is Lottie you are concerned about or Lucy Vernley. I should forget her if I were you. She’ll do as she is told like the good daughter she is.’

  Myles raised his arm again, but decided against brawling with the man; he was quite capable of killing him. Instead he turned on his heel and strode away from temptation. But he was more determined than ever to save Lucy from the fate of being married to that lecherous bounder.

  It was evident at dinner that night that Edward was very pleased with himself in spite of the bruise on his chin, which he said had been caused by a branch sticking out from a tree which he did not see while he was out riding. He did not seem to care if anyone believed him or not. He kept dropping hints about how he would soon be the happiest of men and that in a little while he would have an announcement to make. Lucy longed to contradict him, but, remembering what Myles had said, she simply smiled and said nothing, until after dinner when they were in the drawing room.

  She had gone to sit in a corner near the piano, but he found her there and settled himself beside her. ‘I say this for Lord Luffenham,’ he said, ‘you cannot fault his hospitality, but I am sure this little dinner party was meant to introduce me to friends and neighbours as a future member of the family and he must be disappointed that he has nothing to tell them.’

  ‘He has said nothing to me.’

  ‘No doubt he will, unless you are a good girl and stop this nonsense about having to think about it.’

  ‘You cannot tell me you did not have to think long and hard before you proposed, Mr Gorridge. It is an important step to take and should not be undertaken lightly. I want to be sure I can live in harmony with the man I marry.’

  ‘Why should you not live in harmony with me? I promise you I will make no great demands upon you, though of course I should expect you to fulfil your wifely duties, but other than that you can pursue your own interests. Within reason, of course. And I can be very generous, you know.’

  ‘You say nothing of love.’

  ‘Why, Lucy, I did not know you were one of the romantic sort. I always took you for someone as down to earth and practical as I am, but if it is a declaration of love you want, before saying yes, then I am sure I can supply it.’

  ‘And mean it, Mr Gorridge?’

  ‘Of course. So, shall we make the announcement?’

  ‘Not tonight. I will tell you my answer when you come at Christmas.’

  ‘That’s six weeks away!’

  ‘Six weeks is not very long when you are talking about a lifetime together.’

  ‘Lucy, how can you be so cruel? It’s that navvy, isn’t it? He’s turned your head with his physique. But that’s all he has to recommend him, you know. His grandfather made a lot of money, but that will all disappear on failing railways and Moorcroft will be left where his grandfather began, with nothing.’

  She longed to contradict him, to tell him that Myles had far more than that in his favour. He was gentle and kind and protective. He was not arrogant or foolish or indolent, and he showed compassion to those beneath him. Besides, he loved her. But she could not say anything like that and, because she could not deny Myles, simply smiled and said, ‘I know nothing of business, naturally, but perhaps he is more astute than you give him credit for.’

  ‘We shall see. But let us not talk about him….’

  ‘What are you two whispering about?’ Rosemary demanded. ‘Lucy, come and play some music.’

  Relieved by the interruption, she went to comply.

  The reverend must have been persuasive, because when Lucy went into church on Sunday, the usual congregation had swollen to include several navvies and their families, dressed as flamboyantly as ever, and, though their clothes could not be described as pristine, some effort had been made to be clean. Knowing that every drop of water they used had to be brought up from the river, this was quite an achievement. Lucy, with Edward and Dorothea at her side, followed her parents and Lord and Lady Gorridge down the aisle, looking about her for Myles. He was sitting at the end of a pew in front of his own people and turned, as all the navvies did, to watch the procession of gentry in all their finery, walking to their own pews. Lucy caught his eye and was rewarded with a slight smile and a tiny bow, which could have been for the whole party, but she knew it was for her.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ Edward hissed in Lucy’s ear.

  ‘I expect, like you, he has come to worship God.’

  ‘Hmm. Believe that, if you like.’ He deliberately picked up her hand and laid it on his arm, grinning at Myles as he did so. She saw Myles’s face darken and hoped he would not do or say anything to upset either Edward or her parents.

  It was an effort, but Myles managed to contain himself. Everything depended on the navvies behaving well and impressing the Earl with their godliness and sobriety and he included himself in that. But, oh, how he longed to grab Lucy and declare their love to the world. ‘Patience,’ he admonished himself and turned to the front as the service began.

  The parson had never had such a large congregation and he made the most of it, preaching to them for over two hours. It was two hours in which Lucy’s emotions ranged from despair to hope, from the sheer joy of having Myles near and knowing he loved her, to utter misery. And beside her, Edward, secure in his own little world of the spoiled son who had never been denied anything he wanted, sang the hymns and made the responses and grinned in triumph, believing he would win. Lucy was aware of it. She wondered if, in the end, he would, that she would be forced to agree to the marriage, out of consideration for her family.

  Could Myles turn things around? Judging by the stern look on her father’s face, she doubted it. Who would be the most stubborn, her father and Edward or Myles and herself? She feared her own weakness. Defying her father was something she had never tried to do. Was it permissible to pray for the strength to do that? Probably not. Honour thy father and thy mother, the Bible said.

  The family filed out of the church before the m
ain body of the congregation and she passed the end of the pew where Myles stood, waiting to follow. She was so close that the warm blue cloak she wore over her dress brushed against him and his hand briefly touched hers. She looked up and saw the message of love in his eyes and was heartened.

  She felt a great deal easier when, later that day, their guests departed, even though she was subjected to a lecture from her father about not accepting Edward’s proposal.

  ‘Why you have to keep him waiting, I do not know,’ he told her. ‘I thought it had already been decided between you and the announcement was a mere formality.’

  ‘We had decided nothing, Papa,’ she said. ‘He did not propose until yesterday and I asked him for time to consider. I am not sure enough of my feelings for him to give him an immediate answer.’

  ‘What did he say to that?’

  ‘He agreed to wait until Christmas.’

  ‘I don’t know what the world is coming to,’ he muttered. ‘In my day we accepted the advice of our parents without question. Young people today have far too easy a time of it. But I tell you, child, Christmas is the latest I will suffer your delaying tactics. I shall expect to make the formal announcement at our New Year ball.’

  Rosemary clapped her hands in delight. ‘Oh, Papa, are we to have a ball?’

  ‘If it is the only way to get your sister to the altar, then we will.’

  ‘And may we have new gowns?’

  ‘More gowns? Haven’t you got a wardrobe full already?’

  ‘Nothing suitable for Lucy’s engagement ball.’

  Lucy remained silent. She prayed that everything would come right in the end, and if there was a ball it was to announce her engagement to Myles, not Edward, but she had no great expectation of her prayer being granted.

  Two weeks later Georgina wrote with the happy news that she was expecting a child. ‘We are both thrilled,’ she wrote. ‘But I have been dreadfully sick every morning and that has made me very tired. Gerry is busy with his clients and I am feeling a little down. Do you think your family can spare you to keep me company for a week or two? Do try to persuade them. I want to hear all your news….’