скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Ugh, no, thank you. And I did say by comparison.’
‘And I would rather have our comfortable home than this opulence. It frightens me.’
‘Why ever do you say that? You can’t stay at home for ever. You have to marry and move on, that’s the way things are, and you would soon get used to it. It isn’t as if Mr Gorridge is an ogre. He isn’t ugly, he’s handsome, and his manners are perfect. What more do you want?’
Lucy declined to answer. Instead she said, ‘Go and change. We mustn’t be late down for dinner.’
Rosemary left her and she sat a little longer, musing on the day so far. If she was going to do as her mother had asked her and try to think of Mr Gorridge as a husband, she was going to have to make an effort. A month before it would have been easier; she had returned from London thinking that perhaps she could learn to love him, but that was before she met a certain giant of a navvy who had warm brown eyes and a ready smile and who had somehow managed to mesmerise her. How else could she explain why she was constantly thinking of him and seeing things through his eyes? What would he make of Linwood Park and its occupants? What did he think about inherited wealth? He would despise it. Had he forgotten her the minute she had disappeared from his view? It was all so silly and so impossible and she was thoroughly vexed with herself.
The maid came in to help her to dress and she forced herself to concentrate on what she was going to wear.
It took an hour, but at the end of it she was ready. She had chosen a simple gown in lime-green silk. It had a boat-shaped neck and small puff sleeves; its only decoration was a band of ruching in a darker shade of green, which ran from each shoulder to the waist in a deep V and then crossed to spread in a wide arc down and around the skirt. The ensemble was finished with elbow-length gloves, a fan and a string of pearls her father had bought her for her presentation. Her hair was parted in the middle and drawn to each side, where it was secured with ribbons and allowed to fall into ringlets over her ears. Taking a last look in the mirror, she made her way downstairs. A footman in the hall directed her to the drawing room.
She was, she realised as he opened the door for her to enter, the first lady to arrive and the room contained her father, Viscount Gorridge, Mr Gorridge and Mr Victor Ashbury, Edward’s cousin, whom she had met in London. They stopped their conversation to acknowledge her little curtsy, and for a moment there was silence.
‘Am I too early?’ she asked, wondering whether to retreat.
‘No, no,’ the Viscount assured her. ‘It is refreshing to find a lady who is punctual. Would you care for a cordial or ratafia, perhaps?’
‘No, thank you, my lord.’ She seated herself on a chair near the window some distance from them. ‘Please don’t mind me,’ she said. ‘I shall sit quietly here until the other ladies arrive.’
Edward came and stood by her chair. ‘I fear you will be immeasurably bored by the conversation,’ he said. ‘They are talking about the railway.’
‘I do not find that boring.’
‘Lucinda has a lively curiosity and interests herself in many things,’ her father told the others, though whether he was praising her or excusing her, she could not tell. At least he was smiling and seemed more relaxed. ‘And her first journey in a railway carriage has excited her interest.’
‘How did you find it?’ the Viscount asked. ‘Not too noisy or dirty? Eh, what?’
‘It was both,’ she said. ‘But exciting, too. Do you think the railway will be the transport of the future?’
‘Oh, undoubtedly,’ he said. ‘It is exactly what I have been saying to your papa.’
The door opened to admit Lady Gorridge and Dorothea, followed by the Countess and Rosemary, and the conversation was dropped. Lucy was sorry, in a way; she wanted to learn more and it was all because of a certain navvy who had somehow inveigled his way into her head and would not go away. She could not tell anyone about him, could not talk about him, but discussing the burgeoning industry of which he was a part was the next best thing. She wanted to learn everything she could, though when she asked herself why, she could not provide herself with an answer.
She looked up suddenly to find Edward holding out his arm and realised that dinner had been announced and he was offering his escort into the dining room. She stood up and laid her fingers on his sleeve and they followed in line behind Viscount Gorridge with her mother, and Lady Gorridge with her father. Rosemary and Dorothea brought up the rear with Mr Ashbury.
‘Only a small, intimate gathering tonight,’ Lady Gorridge said as they took their seats and the table. ‘Almost, you could say, en famille. Tomorrow the rest of the company will arrive.’
Lucy looked at Edward to see if he had reacted to the obvious hint that they would all soon be related, but he was busy signalling to the wine waiter to take round the bottle. She felt as if she were being dragged into a deep pool and, unless she swam as hard as she could against the current, she would be dragged under. But it was definitely not an appropriate time to strike out.
Because it was informal, the dishes were set upon the table for them to pass round and help themselves and before long the conversation, which had begun with talk of the weather and the hope it would remain warm and dry for their stay, returned to the subject the men had begun before the meal.
‘You should invest in the new railways, Luffenham,’ Lord Gorridge said. ‘There promises to be rich pickings for anyone who gets in early. I have already made ten thousand pounds into fifteen.’
‘Everyone’s gone mad,’ the Earl said. ‘Railways here, railways there, loop lines, branch lines, connections. It’s becoming a mania and, like all manias, it will go out of fashion.’
‘Don’t agree, my friend. It’s here to stay. I’ve taken shares in the Eastern Counties. Hudson’s paying dividends on the promise of profits to come.’
‘A fool thing to do,’ the Earl maintained. ‘The line won’t earn a penny until it’s opened and in use and he’ll find himself in dun territory.’
‘His problem, not mine, eh, what? Anyway, I’ve put my profit to good use by taking shares in the Leicester to Peterborough. It’s being built by Henry Moorcroft and he’s solid enough. The line is going to cross my land down in the village and that in itself has netted me a few thousand for a tiny strip of land I won’t even miss. And I’ll get my own station into the bargain. I advise you to do the same.’
‘Gorridge, do you have to discuss business at the dinner table?’ his wife queried. ‘It is not polite. Our guests will become bored. Let us change the subject.’
Lucy was disappointed; the conversation was just becoming interesting. The navvy had told her he was surveying a line from Leicester to Peterborough, so it must be the one Viscount Gorridge was interested in. Would it go ahead? Or would her father’s opposition put paid to it? If the line went ahead, she might see the man again, but why did she want to? Striking and handsome as he was, he was no more than a common labourer and far beneath her socially, so why think about him? The trouble was that there was nothing common about him. He was extraordinary—he must be if he could set her pulses racing and her mind in a whirl. And he didn’t talk like a labourer.
‘Lucinda.’ Lady Gorridge interrupted her thoughts. ‘I may call you Lucinda, mayn’t I?’
‘Yes, of course, my lady.’
‘Do you sing or play?’
‘A little of both, my lady, but neither especially well.’
‘Lucy is being modest,’ Rosemary put in. ‘She is more than competent on the pianoforte and she has a pleasant singing voice.’
‘I am no better than you,’ her sister said.
‘Capital!’ their hostess said. ‘When the gentlemen join us, we shall entertain each other. Edward has a fine baritone. And perhaps later we will have a hand or two of whist.’
‘Mama, I promised to take Lady Lucinda and Rosemary for a walk in the grounds,’ Edward told her when the idea was put to the men.
‘You can do that tomorrow. It will be too late tonight by the time we have finished dinner. The sun will be going down and it will turn chilly. Don’t you think so, Lady Luffenham?’
Lady Luffenham agreed.
When the meal ended the ladies retired to the drawing room and the teacups, leaving the men to their port and cigars and their talk.
‘Now,’ Lady Gorridge said, setting out the cups. ‘We can have a little gossip of our own. Did you enjoy your London Season, Lucinda?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Lucy replied. ‘But I must admit to being glad to be home. London is all very well for a visit, but I prefer the country.’
‘I quite agree, which is why I did not stay in town the whole time. Gorridge wanted to come back for reasons of business—railways again, I am afraid—and I decided to come back, too. No doubt you saw something of Edward after we left.’
‘Yes, he was most attentive.’
‘What he needs is a good wife, and so I have told him. It is time he set up his own establishment. There is our house in Yorkshire, which is unoccupied except by a skeleton staff, and it needs to be lived in. It will make him an admirable country home.’
Lucy had no idea how she was supposed to respond to that and so she sipped her tea and smiled and said nothing.
‘I believe there is good hunting country in that area.’ The Countess added her contribution to what Lucy saw as persuasion.
‘Oh, yes. Edward loves to hunt. Do you hunt, Lucinda?’
‘No, I do not care for it. Rosemary is the huntswoman of the family.’
‘Is that so?’ Her ladyship turned reluctantly to Rosemary.
‘Yes, my lady,’ she answered. ‘We girls have been encouraged to take part since we have been old enough to leave our ponies behind and ride proper horses.’
‘We shall naturally invite you and Viscount Gorridge to bring Mr Gorridge with you to our next one,’ the Countess said quickly. The Earl was famous for the hunts he held on the Luffenham estate, which Viscount Gorridge had attended in the past. ‘That goes without saying.’
‘Thank you. I am sure Edward will enjoy that. Alas, my hunting days are over, but I shall enjoy watching from a distance with Lucinda.’
The gentlemen rejoined them at that point and Lady Gorridge busied herself with dispensing tea for them and then calling on Lucy to sing and play, which she did to warm applause. Then she played a duet with Rosemary, while Edward stood by the piano ready to turn over the music. After that he was persuaded to sing and chose ‘Greensleeves,’ the old ballad supposedly composed by Henry the Eighth, saying it was in honour of Lucy’s beautiful gown. He looked at her the whole time he was singing and she felt her face growing hot. When she tried to look away, he stepped round her so that he was in front of her again and took her hand so that she had no choice but to look at him or appear rude. Dorothea was next and sang to her own accompaniment, then the Countess played for the Earl to sing and they rounded the entertainment off by all singing a round song together.
‘Now, what about a hand or two of whist?’ Lady Gorridge said.
‘Mama, there are nine of us,’ Edward said. ‘I beg you excuse me. I have something I want to do.’
‘Me, too,’ said Victor, standing up to follow his cousin.
‘Edward, that is very uncivil of you,’ his mother complained. ‘And if Victor goes, too, we shall be seven.’
‘Can’t be helped, Mama. Find a game that does not require fours.’ He turned to Lucy. ‘If you wish, I will give you a tour of the house and grounds tomorrow after breakfast.’ And with that he took his leave and Victor scuttled after him.
‘Oh, he is too trying,’ his mother complained.
‘I prefer a game of billiards,’ Lord Gorridge put in. ‘How about it, Luffenham? I’ve a good table.’
The Earl jumped at the suggestion, leaving the five ladies to amuse themselves.
Myles and his two companions, having surveyed the proposed line from Leicester back to Gorryham village, arrived there late that evening. Waterson elected to go back to his lodgings, but Myles and Joe Masters decided to spend the night at the Golden Lion before continuing the work next day. They would need to take their calculations and findings back to the office and work on them, but they could see no great difficulty, except the short stretch to avoid the village. They were discussing whether a cutting or a tunnel would best serve when Edward and Victor burst in, talking and laughing.
‘Landlord, your best ale,’ Edward called out. ‘Dining at home and being polite to my mother’s guests is thirsty work.’
He leaned against the bar and looked round the company, which had fallen silent at their entrance. Most were villagers: tenant farmers, agricultural labourers, the blacksmith, the harness maker and the cobbler, all known to him, all in some measure dependent on the Viscount for a living. They touched their caps or forelocks to him, but none looked particularly pleased to see him. Then he caught sight of Myles and his friend. ‘Whom have we here?’ he asked. ‘Not the usual peasantry by the look of it.’ He picked up the quart pot the landlord had filled and put at his elbow and wandered over to them. ‘What business brings you here?’
‘Who’s asking?’ Myles demanded, deciding he didn’t like the man. He had seen the look of exasperation on the landlord’s face when he had taken his drink and made no effort to pay for it.
‘I am. You are not the usual sort of labourers, but certainly not gentlemen, so I guess you’re railwaymen. Am I right?’
‘You are.’
‘Ah, then you must be the advance guard of the Peterborough and Leicester.’
‘You could say that.’
‘There are some—’ and he waved the pot at the company ‘—who will not welcome you in their midst. Heathen rabble, some say, not fit to mix with civilised folk. And overpaid into the bargain.’
‘If you mean the navvies, sir, they are as hard a working set of men as you’ll find anywhere and earn their wages.’
‘You being one, I suppose.’
‘He’s—’ Joe began, but stopped when Myles laid a hand on his arm.
‘Aye, and proud of it.’
‘Is that so? What have you got to be so proud of? That you can outswear, outdrink and outwench any ordinary man?’
Myles laughed. ‘If you like. We can also outwork him. How many men do you know who can lift twenty tons of muck a day from the ground into a wagon, with nothing but a shovel?’
‘None, and I’ll wager you can’t, either.’
‘Oh, but I can.’
‘Would you care to prove it?’ He ignored Victor, who was pulling on his sleeve to persuade him away from the confrontation. ‘Twenty guineas says you can’t.’
‘Very well, twenty guineas, but you’ll have to wait until we start building this line. I’m not disrupting work or any other works in order to satisfy you.’
The men in the room, who had been listening to the conversation with undisguised curiosity, began to laugh. ‘Oh, there’s a put-off if you like,’ one said. ‘He’ll be long gone afore he’s put to the test. I don’ reckon he’ve got twenty guineas.’
For answer, Myles fetched a purse from his pocket and counted out twenty guineas. ‘There’s the stake and the landlord can hold it.’
He handed it over to the landlord, who looked to Edward for his stake, but he just laughed. ‘Why would I carry cash about me? I have no need of it. You’ll have to accept my word as a man of honour.’
It was a statement that made Myles laugh. ‘As you have declined to give me your name, how am I to know that?’
‘Edward Gorridge, at your service.’
‘The Viscount’s heir, I presume.’
‘You presume correctly.’
‘Very well, when the line reaches this village, you will find me among the men, doing my share of the work.’
‘Myles…’ Joe protested, but Myles took no notice of him. He held out his hand to Edward who, after a moment’s hesitation, took it.
‘Landlord,’ Edward called. ‘Let’s have a drink to seal the bargain.’
Drinks were brought and Edward and Victor sat down with Myles and Joe. Myles could see that Gorridge was already a little tipsy and wondered if he would remember the wager by the morning. Or perhaps he did not consider a bet with a navvy one that needed honouring. It did not bother him one way or another; he could make good his boast. His father might not be too pleased when he heard of it, but he was tired of having to defend the navvies’ reputation and it might help when it came to recruiting men for the works.
Edward, who had imbibed freely at dinner that evening, was not in a mood to be discreet. ‘Had to get out of the house,’ he said, by way of a confidence. ‘It’s full of women, chattering about clothes and balls and picnics. Want me to marry, you know.’
Myles smiled. ‘And you are not keen on the idea?’
‘Don’t see why I should when it’s just as easy to have my cake and eat it.’ He laughed and quaffed ale. ‘You married?’
‘No.’
‘It isn’t as if she has a decent dowry, though I don’t need money. No one in these parts would dare refuse me whatever I ask for. I bet I could take that whole barrel of beer off mine host and he would not ask for payment.’ He pointed to a giant barrel on its stand beside the bar.
‘Why would you want to do that?’
‘Because I can.’
‘What would you do with it when you got it? Could you carry it off?’
