Daughter of Trade

by Lesley-Anne McLeod

  Sebastian Delamain, the Viscount Holly, was unperturbed by his lovely partner's abrupt departure. He found her quite enchanting and he had every intention of pursuing the acquaintance. She was very nearly the first person he had spied upon entering the ballroom. She had been laughing and the very air around her had vibrated with her personality. Her sherry brown eyes were flecked with gold, thickly lashed and wide open, surveying her world with candour and humour. She was not exquisite in the classic mode, but her small straight nose, silky tip-tilted brows and direct gaze were charming and, added to her vitality, gave her a gamine, uncommon beauty. Also she was determined not to like him; he had every intention of discovering why. He was without conceit, but he enjoyed a challenge and Miss Dinah Driffield certainly presented him with one.

  He withdrew to the nearest fireplace, which was unlit and adorned with a large feather bouquet, and surveyed the company with good humour. They were a motley assemblage of wealth and rank, youth and age. He had spoken truly; such diversity could not but interest him.

  His friend, Burleigh Matherton soon joined him. Matherton had relinquished his flaxen-haired partner into the care of an older woman who, if resemblance could be trusted, was her mother.

  "The women are most all aged or widows, and the men are merchants and manufacturers," Matherton announced. He had apparently been examining the society as well.

  "What did you expect Burlie? It isn't Brighton, after all. They are pleasant, conversable folk in any case. Our partners were lovely," Holly said. He was watching the Driffield ladies surreptitiously. The bewitching Miss Driffield was laughing at something her mother had said. A widowed mother with two daughters, he mused? The young ladies' fine gowns gave no hint of straitened circumstances. Where was Mr. Driffield then? Matherton was speaking and Sebastian focused his wandering attention on his friend.

  "Didn't expect anything...didn't expect to come to this ball, but for your blasted curiosity."

  "Well, hasn't it been a good thing? Now we know that public balls in High Harrowgate are pleasant entertainment indeed, and that northern girls can be very, very pretty."

  "Huh? Oh, those Driffle females..."

  "Driffield, Burlie. And Miss Dinah Driffield is a masterpiece of nature's art." His gaze returned once again to Miss Driffield's shapely figure of medium height and her piquant, vaguely heart-shaped face. A peach coloured gown of some soft silk suited her pale creamy skin very well, and a necklace of fine pearls circled a truly lovely neck. He discarded his theory of straitened circumstances.

  "Not a diamond, but she's well enough I suppose," Matherton said.

  "Very well indeed," Holly agreed.

  "Well now, that Hesler female is more to my taste." Matherton nodded at the fair, blue-eyed young lady who had joined Miss Driffield with a laugh and a flutter of her fan. It was impossible to ascertain if she was aware of Matherton's scrutiny.

  "Good enough reason to spend a few days in Harrowgate then?" Holly, who had not a relative or dependent in the world to dictate the shaping of his days, was ready to change his plans for attending the shooting.

  His friend was unsure. "They're fine enough, but we should be getting on to the Lowlands. 'Tis August 4 after all."

  Sebastian knew that family and friends, obligations and engagements, weighed heavily on Matherton's mind. "The grouse will keep, Burlie," he drawled. "The grouse will keep."

  * * * *

  "That is eight hanged in Lancashire and thirteen transported," Harriet Driffield, a promising young lady of fourteen years, reported. She was seated at the walnut parlour table where she pored over the Manchester newspaper that had been delivered that morning from the Harrowgate receiving office.

  Her brothers Geoffrey and Hamilton prowled the pages of the Leeds Mercury, cast it aside and then pounced on an article in the York Herald. "Fifteen executed at York!" Geoffrey announced.

  "I think that workers who are worried should not be hung," ten year old Hamilton declared.

  "But the judges who are designated to keep the public peace think that they should." Harriet tossed back a clay-brown plait that had fallen over her muslin-clad shoulder.

  Geoffrey, eldest of the three, frowned. "The workers should not resort to violence just because they don't like the new machines. Can they not adapt themselves? And to call themselves Luddites after some mythical leader named Ned Ludd is nonsensical."

  Dinah entered the handsome but simply adorned parlour to find her younger siblings in heated discussion.

  "The papers have come," Geoffrey informed her. "Manchester, Leeds, York and London. The price of wool is up, but so is corn. And there have been executions of Luddites."

  "Great heavens, you have been busy. Hamilton, take your feet off the sopha; Mama will be down momentarily. Geoffrey at fifteen you are not too old to pick up those papers after yourself. This is Grandmama's house, not our own to misuse as we wish." She softened her peremptory instructions with a warm smile.

  The children--for so Dinah thought of them--obeyed her without argument.

  Geoffrey talked as he tidied the broad sheets. "Where is Adelaide? She will wish to know that the Luddites have threatened Jamieson's mill, despite Thomas' best efforts."

  Dinah could not contain her dismay. "They haven't!"

  "They have!" Harriet was intensely interested in political affairs, and could quote Lord Byron's speech against the Frame-breaking Act verbatim. "Thomas made a fine speech and gained the support of most of the workers but a rock was thrown and cut him badly."

  "Thomas is hurt?" Adelaide said as she entered the room. Her sensitive face crumpled with distress.

  Dinah hurried to her sister's side. "I know Mama has had a letter from Mrs. Jamieson; she will know the details," she said. "She is coming down."

  She drew her sister to a silk-covered sopha near the open window that overlooked Robin Hood Lane. Without, another sunny day promised heat, and the dusty street below was busy with residents and visitors.

  The parlour door was opened by their grandmother's elderly housemaid. "Lord Holly, and Mr. Matherton," she announced. Her round face was unusually dignified and solemn.

  "Botheration," muttered Dinah. Bad enough that the viscount had haunted her sleep, now he must appear in person. Then she felt heat suffuse her face, for Lord Holly had checked on the threshold. It seemed he had overheard her exclamation, and he appeared to conceal a smile.

  She rose to greet him and his friend and her welcome, though restrained, was all that was proper. She found herself unreasonably pleased that she had donned a new gown of primrose cambric muslin that morning, and she reproached herself for the satisfaction; she had no wish to attract this aristocrat.

  "Good morning, Miss Driffield. Ah, have we come at an inopportune moment?" the viscount said, while glancing about the parlour at its many occupants. "You seem uncommonly busy."

  Dinah noted that he responded to her greeting gracefully, but was surprised to discover some uneasiness in his manner. He seemed to find the chamber over-full.

  The younger members of the family all were staring at the visitors. Harriet had dropped her newspaper. Hamilton's eyes were round, and Geoffrey had been apparently struck speechless. She could understand his amaze; their visitors' sartorial elegance was prodigious. Mr. Matherton's garb was, as the previous evening, a trifle flamboyant. Lord Holly's was restrained, and he was as handsome in shining top boots and well-fitted breeches as he had been in evening dress. A dark green coat brought leaf green lights to his hazel eyes and his shirt points just touched his square jaw.

  She shook off her thoughts, and paused as she considered the viscount's comment. Her glance became if possible even cooler. "We are at leisure, Lord Holly. This is, in fact, my family, my lord; my youngest sister Harriet, my youngest brother Hamilton there, and this is Geoffrey."

  She watched the viscount conquer some discomfort and acknowledge the introductions politely. He was observing the children as if they were some rare exhibit at a fair. He did not approach the
m. Stifling an impish smile, she wondered if he feared they might bite.

  She saw that Geoffrey, in return, was absorbing every detail of the appearance of the viscount and his friend. His brightly striped waistcoat and carefully pleated trowsers hinted at his budding sartorial interest. She would be glad if he ignored Matherton's excesses and copied Holly's elegance. She would be happier if he found some other concern altogether.

  "And of course you met Adelaide last evening," Dinah added.

  At the sound of her name, that young lady rose and blindly curtsied to the gentlemen before she rushed past them. "I must find Mama."

  Dinah paid no heed, but invited the visitors to sit. She said, "We have had alarming news regarding a family friend. You will excuse my sister I'm sure." She was all that was polite but strove to be no more than pleasant.

  The viscount did not seem deterred by her manner, and seated himself beside her on her grandmama's new sopha. He rubbed his right temple with two slender fingers.

  She wondered if he had the headache, but sensed that her family somehow caused him to feel uneasy. She could not help but wonder why. The children were polite and, although avidly curious, restrained. She watched Mr. Matherton chat easily with her younger brothers, his manner as jolly as the previous evening but with the hint of condescension that she had noted at the ball. The viscount however was very unlike the relaxed and urbane gentleman of Monday.

  "You have just received your post, I think," Holly said. Even his conversation was stilted.

  "Newspapers," Harriet burst into speech. "They were delayed, three days, but such news. More trouble with the Luddites, and terrible punishments--execution and transportation. If only all the mill owners would deal with transition as Papa does; to be sure it is difficult for the weavers and finishers but there will be work for all if they can be convinced to adapt."

  The viscount blinked at this flood tide of information.

  Dinah intervened, with a quelling look at her little sister. "The viscount will not be interested in our concerns, Harriet. He and Mr. Matherton have come north for the grouse shooting. The weather should be most enjoyable for your sport, my lord. I think it must be set to remain dry. Possibly it will be cooler in Scotland."

  Lord Holly looked taken aback at the sudden change of subject. "We can only hope that it is. Shooting holds no appeal for me in the heat." He seemed to relax a little, and even managed a question to her younger sister. "You are interested, Miss Harriet, in the frame-breakers' plight?"

  Dinah intervened again, giving Harriet no opportunity of reply. "What do you think of Low Harrowgate, my lord?"

  Holly again rubbed his temple, a look of puzzlement on his handsome face at her interruption. But he answered her politely, "My observations have been limited thus far, but it is not what I expected. In fact, Burlie's aunt had given him a description of a bustling town with a busy social calendar. We find it not quite as we anticipated."

  "I am interested in the frame-breakers and the response of our parliamentarians to their problems." Harriet inserted. "What--"

  Dinah gave her another repressive look.

  Harriet stuck out her tongue ever so slightly at her elder sister, and flounced off to the window with her newspaper.

  "To the elderly and infirm the town is busy and bustling," Dinah said, ignoring the interruption. "Their needs are more easily met than yours or mine."

  The viscount looked mildly confused by her disregard for her sister's remark, but gamely followed her lead. "I am rightly reproached. You are of course correct. I have the intention to walk to the upper town later today; I shall bring you my findings of its attractions. My observations were limited to the hotel last evening."

  "The walk is nearly a mile, my lord." She glanced at his gleaming boots. "Up hill and across the common land which is very rough. You would be better advised to take your carriage by the turnpike road."

  "Oh, I am not such poor stuff as you may think, ma'am; I do not begrudge my boots a little dust or a few scratches." He defended himself against her implied criticism with a beguiling smile.

  Dinah swallowed hard, and said, "Then you will find that Upper Harrowgate has the advantage in situation over Lower, as you must have noted journeying to the ball. From its height, if it remains clear, you may see the steeple of York Minster to the east."

  "I shall look for it."

  Dinah was relieved when her inane attempts at conversation were interrupted by the entry of Mrs. Driffield and Adelaide. She found the viscount's uneasiness more charming even than his composure; she needed to regroup her defenses to resist that charm.

  The viscount and Matherton both rose, only to be begged to be seated again. Mrs. Driffield chose a seat near a Pembroke table holding her work basket, and Adelaide crossed the room to sit with Harriet.

  Mrs. Driffield entered the conversation in a pleasing, unpretentious manner that Dinah had ever admired and emulated. "Warton is bringing the tea tray, my lord. You will join us?" When he had quietly agreed, she said, "My lord, I must ask you about your name...Holly. How can your ancestors have come by it?"

  "Simply a surfeit of holly on the estate given to them." The viscount's smile was genuine and he seemed now more at ease.

  Dinah could scarcely believe that ingenuous statement but was delighted to have her mother introduce an innocuous topic of discussion. She reminded herself that she took no pleasure in entertaining the aristocracy; she must not forget the pride and iniquitous conduct of the class. Mrs. Driffield was obviously unconscious of such difficulties; she treated the gentlemen as she might any caller, with civility and kindness.

  Matherton interrupted. "At the time of the conquest, Mrs. Driffield. 'Tis an ancient family. Holly Court is the name of the estate, if you can feature it. And his family name is Delamain--some Frenchy thing about 'hand'. Which has always struck me that if a 'delamain' grasped some of that 'holly' too tightly what would the reaction have been?" He glanced around the room for reaction to his wit, and was not disappointed by the younger members of the Driffield family. They laughed hilariously.

  Dinah again caught a hint of discomfort in the viscount's reaction. It was gone before she could be certain, however.

  The elderly housemaid, with a younger assistant, brought in the refreshments. The elder Mrs. Driffield preceded them, her faded eyes keenly assessing the visitors. Both gentlemen again rose at her entry.

  In the bustle of reorganization, the younger Mrs. Driffield advised her children, "I have had a note from Papa; he will be arriving in a day or two for a stay with us."

  "From Leeds?" said the viscount. He accepted, from the elder Mrs. Driffield, a Meissen tea bowl brimming with a fragrant brew. He added to his thanks a smile of great charm.

  "From Leeds. That is where our home and our manufactory is located." Dinah took satisfaction in confirming his query. She should, she supposed, be flattered that he had recalled what she had told him at the assembly. She was discovering herself to be disconcerted and disappointed by his lack of noticeable hauteur.

  "What does a manufactory do?" said Burleigh Matherton.

  Dinah watched Holly shake his head, but Matherton's obtuseness satisfied a question in her mind. She was right to judge them typically ignorant, idle, gentlemen of fashion.

  "Our manufactory weaves cloth, Mr. Matherton," Dinah said. "Another in which my father is a partner, finishes the cloth. He has also interests in one or two foundries and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal." Her challenging look dared the viscount to comment, even as Matherton struggled with a reply.

  "A man of parts," Holly said answering her challenge. "I can only envy his business acumen." His expression held sincerity.

  Mrs. Driffield saw nothing amiss in this comment, and the elder Mrs. Driffield nodded approvingly.

  But Dinah imagined disdain in his words. "We were discussing the Luddites when you arrived, my lord; they are those workers who find the new machinery a dread threat, and whose only response is to destroy what they do not understand.
" She was aware of an ignoble desire to make him admit ignorance, and wondered why her character had taken such a bitter turn.

  "That is a common human reaction."

  "They suffer for it."

  "Twenty-three executions this summer, I believe. I voted against the Frame Breaking Act."

  Dinah stared at him in disbelief. He was most well-informed, and she had been foolish to try to prove otherwise. As she coloured, Harriet gave a crow of triumph.

  Holly gave no indication of satisfaction over proving wrong Dinah's ill-founded preconception.

  "You will forgive us our preoccupation, my lord. This matter of course affects us closely, but it is hardly appropriate drawing room conversation." Mrs. Driffield reproved her children with a look. "You will like to know that Thomas is recovering from his injury, my dears. Adelaide is reassured, are you not, my love?"

  "Adelaide is betrothed to Thomas Jamieson, whose father owns a woolen mill at Pudsey," Dinah said to the viscount. She could not relax in his company, though she found herself longing to do so.

  He proffered his congratulations gracefully to Adelaide, regaining some of the assurance which had been noticeable at their previous encounter.

  She accepted them with shy grace.

  "I am happy that your intended has suffered no lasting hurt." He removed a gold half-hunter from his waistcoat pocket and scrutinized the timepiece. "Burlie, we should be making our farewells."

  The opening of the parlour door interrupted his further words. The elderly maid ushered in Juliana Hesler.

  Dinah hurried across the room to greet her friend. Mr. Matherton followed closely upon her heels.

  "My lord, Mr. Matherton, I believe you have met my dear friend, Miss Juliana Hesler? Juliana, you remember Lord Holly, and Mr. Burleigh Matherton?"

  Miss Hesler smiled in happy recognition, and offered a dainty curtsey.

  "We are outstaying our welcome but we cannot rush away so soon after Miss Hesler's arrival," Mr. Matherton said. "Miss Hesler, you must tell me all of Harrowgate's chief delights."