Mary Nichols

by Society Bride Working Man

  Remembering the scolding she had had from the Earl the last time she stayed with Georgie, Lucy did not hold out much hope that she would be allowed to go, but her father saw it as a way of separating her from the navvies. It wasn’t Myles he meant because he assumed she had obeyed him and not spoken to him again, but the children. She had extended her good works among the village children to include those at the navvy camp, taking them food and toys, slates and chalks for their lessons. Although her mother agreed because she was soft-hearted where children were concerned, Lucy was never allowed to go alone. Either Miss Bannister, Sarah or Rosemary accompanied her, none of whom relished going among the navvies. They made her stay on the edge of the encampment and have the children come to her, which they did, as soon as they saw her riding down the hill with her basket of good things on her pommel.

  Occasionally she glimpsed Myles; sometimes she was close enough to bid him good day, but with her eagle-eyed chaperons watching and listening they could not talk. More often than not he was not at the works, but on business elsewhere. It was frustrating and heart-rending and all the time Christmas was drawing closer, when the Gorridges would once more descend upon them. Seeing Georgina again would be a welcome diversion before the struggle to come, always assuming Myles had not changed his mind about her. It would break her heart if he did, but it would not make any difference to her determination not to marry Edward Gorridge. Georgie was the only person she could talk to about that.

  The weather was cold and dismal the day she travelled, but Georgina had a warm fire and an even warmer welcome for her. ‘It is good to see you,’ she said when Lucy had been to her room to wash and change and had returned to the drawing room. ‘I want to hear all about everything. I dare not write and ask about Mr Moorcroft in my letters.’

  ‘I am glad you did not. If Mama asked to see them, I could not refuse to show them to her and there would have been a dreadful row.’

  ‘You can tell me all about it over dinner. Gerry is dining out, but of course, in my condition, it was not appropriate for me to accompany him….’

  ‘Your condition!’ Lucy laughed, following her friend into the dining room. ‘You are as slim as ever.’

  ‘If I am it is because I have been so sick, but I am better now and beginning to grow fat.’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘No, not at all. It means I will soon be a mother and I can’t wait.’

  Lucy smiled. ‘You are happy, then?’

  ‘Oh, wonderfully. Being married to the man you love is the most glorious, the most uplifting thing in the world, as you will find out when it happens to you.’

  ‘I do not think it will.’

  ‘Oh, dear, that doesn’t sound good. You must tell me all about it.’

  A maid served them with soup, followed by crown of lamb and then a delicious lemon pudding. Lucy was in no hurry to embark upon her story; it was not easy to find the words to begin and she decided to wait until the meal was over and she and Georgie retired to the drawing room.

  When her tale was eventually told, as they sat one on either side of a roaring fire toasting their toes, Georgina was all sympathy for her friend’s predicament, but advised her to stick to her guns. ‘It would be different if you wanted to marry a real navvy,’ she said.

  ‘He is a real navvy.’

  ‘Yes, but he’s a great deal more than that, isn’t he?’

  ‘Oh, much, much more.’

  ‘Then your task is to make your papa see it.’

  ‘I do not think he will. He despises Lord Moorcroft for being a self-made man and not a gentleman, but it is not so much that but that he is determined I shall marry Mr Gorridge—’

  ‘Whom you like well enough. Isn’t that what you said?’

  ‘Maybe I did, but that was when I did not know him very well. I had only seen the polished side of him he displayed to the world. The more I see of him, the more I know I cannot marry him.’

  ‘Then you must be blunt and tell your father so. Get him used to the idea of your not marrying Mr Gorridge before you spring Mr Moorcroft on him.’

  Lucy laughed. It was the first genuine laugh she had managed in weeks. ‘Georgie, you are so clever and so wise.’

  Georgina did not reply to this flattery because the sound of the door knocker came to their ears. ‘Who can that be at this time of night?’ Georgina murmured as she got up and left the room. The maid had been told she could have the rest of the evening off and there was no one to answer the door. Lucy heard voices and then Georgie came back. ‘Lucy, we have a visitor.’ And she stood to one side to allow Myles to enter the room.

  Lucy sprang to her feet, so flustered she did not know what to do, what to say, whether to retreat or run forward. ‘Myles!’

  ‘I’ll just go and check the maid hasn’t left any candles burning,’ Georgie said. The door clicked shut and they were alone.

  He held out his arms and she ran into them with a little cry of joy. He kissed her tenderly and drew her down beside him on the sofa. ‘How have you been?’ he asked. ‘Has anything changed?’

  ‘Nothing. I am to give Mr Gorridge his answer at Christmas. What about you?’

  ‘I am still as much in love with you as ever and always will be, to the end of my days.’

  ‘How did you know I would be here?’

  ‘I met Lady Brotherton in the town a fortnight ago when I was here on business and we had a little talk.’ He laughed. ‘She is a gem, isn’t she? It was her idea to invite you here so that we could have a little time together.’

  ‘Myles, what are we going to do? Papa says he will not put up with my delaying tactics beyond Christmas and he is giving a ball, when he hopes…Oh, Myles, I am in despair.’

  ‘Take heart,’ he said. ‘We will prevail.’ He sounded more optimistic than he felt, but one thing he was sure of, he would not stand by and see her married to Gorridge. What he wanted to avoid, if it was at all possible, was carrying her off against her parents’ wishes, even if Lucy herself agreed to it. He did not want to subject her to the misery a rift with her family would cause. Some other way had to be found.

  ‘Do you know what Georgie said? She said I ought to get Papa used to the idea of me not marrying Mr Gorridge before I told him I wanted to marry you.’

  ‘Your friend is a wise lady.’

  ‘And a naughty one for leaving us unchaperoned.’

  ‘Not naughty, sympathetic. While you are staying with her, we can see each other often. It will give us strength for what lies ahead.’

  ‘Papa knew I had seen you last time I came to Peterborough. Mr Gorridge saw us talking at the meeting and told him. He was very angry. If he finds out we have met and talked again, I dare not think what he will do. I do not know why he is so adamant I must marry Mr Gorridge. I think, perhaps, he has made some financial arrangement with the Viscount, though what it is I do not know. Mr Gorridge says he will take me without a dowry, so what is going on?’

  ‘I do not know, sweetheart.’ He was tempted to tell her about Gorridge and Lottie and what he had overheard, but decided not to; such a tactic was not worthy of him and he was not at all sure that the Earl would consider it reason enough to withdraw his support of the man and it was the Earl he had to convince.

  She looked up at him and smiled. ‘Will you mind about the dowry?’

  ‘Oh, my love, how can you ask that? I would not care if you did not have a penny.’

  ‘It might come to that, you know. If I defy Papa, he will cut me off and forbid my mother and my sisters ever to speak to me again.’

  ‘I will not ask that of you. It will not answer.’

  His words did little to cheer her, but before she could ask him what alternative there was, there was a little tap at the door and Georgina put her head round it. ‘May I come in?’

  Startled, Lucy pulled herself away from him and turned to Georgie, trying to smile. Her friend should not have engineered the visit and certainly she should not have deliberately left them alone, but she
had meant it for the best. ‘Of course. We cannot keep you from your own drawing room.’

  The visit ended with mundane conversation mostly between Myles and Georgina. Lucy marvelled that he could sound so normal when her own emotions were overflowing and she could hardly speak without choking. She was afraid that he would rather lose her than risk her father’s wrath. And then what would she do?

  Chapter Eight

  ‘They’re here!’ Johnny called out. ‘There’s a carriage coming up the drive. And another one behind it.’ He scrambled from his perch on a chair by the nursery window and dashed downstairs to find his mother, ignoring Miss Bannister’s cries for him to come back. ‘Mama, they’re here!’ he shouted, skittering along the shiny marble in the hall towards the drawing room.

  He flew into the room to find his mother and sisters sitting round the fire, decorously awaiting the arrival of their guests. ‘Johnny, do calm down,’ the Countess said. ‘It is unbecoming to dash about like a common potboy. Besides, you should not be here. Go back to the nursery until you are sent for. You may come down for a few minutes after tea to greet our guests. Now, run along and take the back stairs.’ The door knocker was heard as he disappeared down the corridor. The Countess rose, ready to receive the first of the guests.

  Lucy had returned from Peterborough to find her mother in the throes of preparing for the accommodation of the twenty guests who were expected on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, which meant opening up unused bedrooms, finding bed linen, organising the cleaning and polishing, arranging flowers, as well as the all-important menus. The Earl was concerned only with the horses and dogs for the hunt and making sure there was plenty of game for those who preferred the shoot. Rosemary and Esme talked of nothing but the company they were expecting, the clothes they would wear, the entertainments and parties, the hunt which Papa had promised them they might join, the secret gifts they had bought and those they hoped to receive from a generous papa. And the New Year ball. That was to be the highlight. Lucy could not join in their enthusiasm. Her whole being was concentrated on how she was going to refuse Edward Gorridge without causing the most terrible row. And it would happen while the guests were in the house because he would be one of them and expecting his answer. The Earl was heard to mutter about what it was all going to cost and expressing the hope that it would all be worthwhile in the end, which did nothing to make her feel any better.

  She helped her mother as was expected of her, but then, unable to sit still, would go out walking or riding, filling in the time until the guests arrived, thinking about Myles, wondering what he was doing, wishing she could be with him. She had met him every day while she had been staying with Georgina, always in secret, in case they were seen.

  During that time she had learned more about him, about his family and his home and his plans for the future, plans that included her, for he said he could not contemplate life without her. They had talked and kissed and talked again and the bond that was their love for each other was tightened and strengthened so that it seemed nothing could break it. Parting on the last day had been sorrowful in the extreme and, since she had been home, she could think of nothing but when they might be together again. But the longer they were apart and the longer she was under the influence of her parents, the more she despaired. Myles had said he would not sever her from her family, but what alternative was there? She could not, would not, marry Edward Gorridge and that alone was enough to cause a huge rift without the added misdemeanour of falling in love with someone her father considered unsuitable.

  Now the guests were arriving and she braced herself for what was to come. How she wished Myles was one of the party because he would not let her bear the burden alone, but he was not welcome and she did not see how he ever would be. He was no doubt at home with his family at Goodthorpe Manor, enjoying a convivial time. Would he be thinking of her? He had said he would be.

  She rose as Viscount and Lady Gorridge were announced, followed by Edward and Dorothea. There were greetings all round and Lucy managed to keep a smile of welcome on her face, but the grinning Edward unnerved her. ‘My dear Lucy,’ he said, taking her hand and suddenly leaning forward to plant a kiss on her cheek. ‘You look delightful in that blue. It matches your eyes.’

  She did not know what to say and felt herself growing hot. How could she ever have contemplated marrying him? He was repulsive. His smile was oily and his eyes darted everywhere as if afraid to look her in the eye. His hand, still grasping hers, was clammy. If anyone mentioned marriage she would keep silent no longer. She would announce, loud and clear, that she would not marry him. The storm was going to happen anyway and she might just as well get it over and done with.

  ‘It is bitterly cold out,’ Lady Gorridge said, approaching the fire. ‘We had rugs and hot bricks in the carriage, but they did little except take the chill off. But as I said to Gorridge, Lady Luffenham will have made sure there are good fires in all the rooms—not one to stint is Lord Luffenham.’

  ‘Yes, I had the fires lit in your rooms early this morning,’ the Countess told her. ‘If they need making up, do not hesitate to ring for a maid. Do you think it will snow?’

  ‘It is certainly cold enough,’ Lord Gorridge put in. ‘If it does, it will drift. The wind is in the east.’

  ‘I hope it won’t spoil the hunt,’ Rosemary put in.

  ‘It’ll take more than a few flakes of snow to do that,’ Edward told her. ‘I am looking forward to it.’ He glanced in Lucy’s direction. ‘Especially if I have the charming company of Lady Lucinda.’

  ‘I do not care to hunt,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, but you must. I insist. The day will be quite spoiled if you do not come.’

  Why did she think he was insincere? If Myles had said that, she would have been glowing with pleasure, but because it was Edward, whose eyes held no warmth, she was repelled.

  ‘Oh, let us leave her at home,’ Rosemary said dismissively. ‘She can keep Mama and Johnny company.’

  More guests arrived, each exclaiming about the bitterness of the weather. Mrs Ashbury even mentioned that she was not sure they should have made the journey. It made Lucy think of the children at the railway works. Were they warm and well fed? Were the men still working? Since returning from Peterborough three weeks before she had not dared go down there herself, though she had sent one of the grooms over with food, especially milk for the babies, on several occasions. The navvies were making a huge cutting, Andrew told her when he returned, and the landscape was hardly recognisable. The ground had been levelled and lines had been laid almost the whole way across the side of the hill. Soon they would be gone from Luffenham land and moving on to Gorridge land, where they were going to build a bridge to take the line over the river. She asked if he had seen Mr Moorcroft and was told he had been spotted at the head of the cutting, but he wasn’t digging like the men. ‘I don’ reckon he’ll do any more o’ that,’ the lad said. ‘A’er all, he’s a gen’leman, ain’t he?’

  ‘Yes, Andrew, he is a gentleman.’

  After dinner, which was prolonged and lavish, the whole company played parlour games and sang together and then danced on the marble floor of the hall. It was all very convivial and Lucy managed to pretend to be enjoying herself, though the shadow of that proposal hung over her.

  The next morning everyone arrived at the breakfast table at different times and she did not see Edward until it was time to go to church at half past ten. Everyone attended, dressed warmly because it was still bitterly cold. Lucy wore a red flannel petticoat as well as her usual two cambric ones, and a wool dress in a cornflower blue topped with a dark-blue cloak. Her curls were framed by a soft velvet hat and she carried a matching muff.

  The church, bedecked with greenery, was packed, not only with the Hall’s guests and the villagers, but a crowd of navvies. All were dressed in their best and on their best behaviour. Lucy, walking up the aisle beside Edward, was surprised to see Myles among them; she would have expected him to attend church with his fam
ily and yet he had chosen to come to Luffenham. Her heart lifted and she gave him a joyful smile, which he returned with a broad grin that spoke volumes. He was here, not beside her exactly, but it was the next best thing. His presence gave her courage and hope.

  ‘He can’t keep away, can he?’ Edward murmured, as they passed him. ‘And leering at you as usual. I’ve a good mind to send him packing.’

  ‘No, don’t do that, Mr Gorridge, it is Christmas, after all, and he is doing no harm. I should hate a disturbance in church.’

  ‘Yes, you are right.’ He stood aside to let her enter the pew, and then followed her. ‘There are better places to settle our differences.’

  ‘I thought they had all been resolved.’

  ‘That, my dear Lucy, is up to you.’

  She did not like the sound of that, but was given no time to comment because the Rector, followed by the choir, entered the church at that moment and the service began. Lucy took part automatically while her mind ranged freely. Myles was just behind her on the other side of the aisle and she could almost feel his presence, so strong were the ties that bound them. He was watching her, she knew, but she dare not do anything to let him know she appreciated it. Oh, how she longed to turn away from the man at her side and run to him! If thoughts had wings and could find their target, he must know what she was thinking. ‘Myles, what are we going to do?’ she asked herself, while singing ‘Adeste Fideles’ in a clear soprano.

  She knelt and prayed, stood and sang, sat and listened to Cousin Cedric intoning the sermon and, when it was all over, turned to make her way out of church behind her parents and Lord and Lady Gorridge. Myles was kneeling at the end of the pew he had occupied, apparently praying. She positioned herself so that she passed very close to him. She felt his hand reach out for hers and put a slip of paper into it. ‘Happy Christmas, my love,’ he murmured. She closed her fingers over the missive and put her hand into her muff. It had a little pocket for a handkerchief inside it and she slipped the note into that before withdrawing her hand.