Working Man, Society Bride. Mary Nichols

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      He was a hugely impressive specimen of manhood. Well over six feet tall, his shoulders were massive, straining the cloth of his tweed tailcoat. His chest was broad and his hips, clad in plain brown trousers, were slim. He wore a loosely tied neckcloth and, unlike the other two, he was hatless. His curly light brown hair was worn collar length. He had large hands that, at the moment she reined in and stopped, were crumbling the soil between his fingers.

      He smiled, displaying even, white teeth. ‘Good morning, miss.’ His accent, while by no means uncouth and certainly not betraying the patois of the peasant, was not refined as a gentleman’s would be. She found it difficult to take her eyes off him and, though she knew there were two others present, she was facing him and him alone.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she asked, without returning his greeting.

      ‘Surveying, miss.’

      ‘Surveying what?’

      ‘The land, miss, for a railway.’

      ‘Here?’ She was astonished. She had heard her father say more than once that he abominated railways and would not have one on his land, which was inconsistent considering he used trains himself when it suited him.

      ‘It looks as good a route as any, but we can’t tell until we’ve walked the whole way.’

      ‘From where to where?’

      ‘Leicester to Peterborough, to join the Eastern Counties Railway to the Midland.’

      ‘I find it difficult to believe my father has agreed to it.’

      ‘And who is your father?’

      He did not appear at all overawed, which made her all the more determined to stand on her dignity. ‘The Earl of Luffenham and, before you ask, you are on his land, which, if you are surveying, you surely know already.’

      The young man bowed, though it was more a formality than any show of respect. ‘I am sorry—if I had known who you were, my lady, I would have addressed you correctly.’

      He saw before him an arrogant child of wealth and class on a superb horse. Judging by the size of the horse and the easy way she sat on it, she was quite tall. Her riding habit, which was spread decorously over her feet, was of dark-blue taffeta with military-style frogging across the jacket. Her tiny riding hat, with its wisp of a veil, was perched on top of dark golden ringlets. Her eyes, looking fearlessly into his, were greeny-grey. He would have liked to despise her, but found himself admiring her spirit. She was evidently not afraid of approaching three men and telling them exactly what she thought of them.

      ‘That doesn’t answer my question. Has my father agreed?’

      ‘We are not seeking the agreement of anyone at the moment, my lady. We have yet to establish the feasibility of such a line.’

      ‘And to do that, it appears you must trespass.’

      One of the others gave a little cough, which made her drag her eyes away from the young man towards him. ‘My lady, I think you will find the Earl’s land begins on the other side of the water.’ And he pointed in the direction of the river behind her.

      ‘It does not. It extends up to that ridge.’ Her riding crop indicated where she meant. ‘This whole area is Luffenham land.’ She swept her arm in a wide arc.

      ‘Until we see evidence we must beg to differ, my lady.’

      ‘Then I suggest you apply to the Earl, who will no doubt supply it. In the meantime, desist whatever it is you are doing.’

      The youngest man laughed and she swung round to face him again. ‘It is not a laughing matter.’

      His amber eyes were alight with amusement. ‘I am sorry, my lady, but we have been given a job to do and we will not meekly leave it on the say-so of a young lady who can have no idea what she is talking about. I suggest you continue your ride and we will talk to your papa when the time is right.’

      His condescension infuriated her; though she would have liked to go on arguing, she was not sure enough of her facts, and instead wheeled round and cantered off. Once back over the river, she slowed to a walk, though she did not look back. She was sure that if she did, she would see that they had resumed their inspection of the terrain. She ought to have asked their names so that she could tell her father who they were, but nothing on earth would persuade her to humiliate herself further by turning back to do so.

      The man had been insufferably rude and the two others, who were older and should have tried to curb him, had said nothing, except to back him up. But my, he was a handsome devil, all bone and muscle—but he had a warm smile and laughing eyes, which in some measure made up for his insolence. Of course he would not approach her father, that would be done by his superiors, which was a pity because she would have liked to meet him again, if only to confirm her first impressions that he was a conceited brute of a man who had no idea how to behave towards a lady.

      She wondered what her father would say when she told him of the encounter. He hated change, anything that might interrupt his ordered way of life, and she had heard him rant against the railways so often, she knew he would send the deputation away and threaten to shoot them if they came back on to his land. And he would be angry with her for even speaking to them, so perhaps it would be best to say nothing. He would find out for himself soon enough.

      Myles had not returned to his task, but was standing watching her go, admiring the way she rode, her back held straight, the reins held easily in her gloved hands. He realised he had been arrogant and had not explained carefully enough that he and his colleagues were simply trying to find the best route for the line and that the Earl’s land, far from being compact, was sprawled all over the place, taking in a farm here, a hamlet there, woodland, heath and pasture, as small parcels had been added over the years. A broad strip stuck out like a tongue between the Gorridge estate and the land on the other side, which his father had bought a few years before to build himself a mansion. The railway, if it took the shortest route, which it was almost bound to do because it was costed per mile, would cross straight over that small tongue before going on to the Gorridge estate. Viscount Gorridge had agreed to sell his section to the railway company and had also assured them that he could guarantee that Luffenham would consent to part with his piece of land. He had intimated that he had some influence over the Earl.

      ‘So that was one of the Earl’s daughters,’ Joe Masters commented. ‘I heard he had three.’

      ‘I wonder if they are all like her.’

      Masters laughed. He was in his fifties and had worked for Myles’s grandfather and father since he was old enough to work at all, which made him more outspoken than most employees. ‘God help the Earl if they are. He has to find husbands for them. And dowries.’

      ‘Are we really on the Earl’s land?’

      He shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter if we are. If he won’t agree to sell, then the land will be compulsorily purchased—you’ve been in the railway business long enough to know that, haven’t you?’

      ‘Yes, of course I have, but I hate dissension. It makes for bad feelings all round.’

      ‘You know your trouble, lad,’ Joe said, laughing. ‘Great lump that you are, you’re too soft.’

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