Daughter of Trade

by Lesley-Anne McLeod

  Her voice was even as she said, "I like horses very well. But we have no country home, and so have not felt the lack of equestrian arts."

  "No country home," repeated the viscount. "Of course. But how do you like the country, for such I do not scruple call this? Harrowgate, both towns, are closely surrounded by fine countryside."

  Dinah's glance swept the pasture dotted with trees, bright with wildflowers and alive with birdsong. She found the scent of the marshy earth nearby and the clean, fresh air intoxicating. "I like it very well. And when I visit friends who dwell in the country, I am quite enamoured of the quiet beauty and the long walks, and all the other delights." She ended in a rush, realizing that for a moment she had dropped the guard that protected her from the charm of this nobleman.

  "I am a countryman at heart I think," he said clearly unaware of her discomfort. "Holly Court is in Suffolk, and we are flat there; sunrise and sunset are delights to us. And I am charmed with the dales and moors of Yorkshire. The wild mountains of Scotland too have an appeal all their own."

  "I confess to an affection for Scotland; we have frequently visited Edinburgh. Well, Papa says it is more civilized than London, and quite as educational." She paused, drawn in to conversation against her inclination and enjoying herself despite her resolution. She wondered what he would say to her stricture on the country's capital.

  "I daresay Mr. Driffield is correct. I too find Edinburgh much to my taste. But Suffolk, Miss Driffield, I would enjoy showing you the beauties of my shire. The Gog Magog hills are nearby--the windmills--surely your brother Joseph would find them of interest. And the sheep...I am certain that being in the wool trade you would like the sheep. They are Suffolk in the main. My estate grazes several hundred, plus some Dorset Horn for cross-breeding and variety."

  Dinah could not but be reminded of her early comparison. She thrust it aside and entered into a challenging discussion of sheep breeds and the wool trade that had once prospered in Suffolk.

  It was more than half of an hour before the boys came trotting back to them. Hamilton was mounted and the grey tossing his head in enjoyment of the exercise he had gained.

  The viscount said, in a sudden rush, "Miss Driffield, do you despise my so-called 'class' so very much that we may not be friends?"

  She was startled and dismayed. "I had not thought my disapprobation so obvious, my lord. I hardly know what to say."

  "The truth, if you please." He broke off seeming suddenly embarrassed by his question.

  Dinah chose her words very carefully, at pains to make him understand, since he had troubled to ask. "We all, everyone that I know, have suffered slights and insults at the hands of the aristocracy, my lord. No matter that we have education and manners to match theirs, and morals and ideas to put them to shame. You persist in ignoring us, belittling our life's work, our values and our abilities." Her hesitation disappeared and she waxed eloquent. "Even my own dear grandmama--you have met her, you know she is sweet and good and wise and able--she was treated as less than nothing by a 'lady' of title her own age in one of the shops here in town. A 'cit' she was called; a person of lesser importance. I had rather be a 'cit' of courage and intelligence than an aristocrat with an empty head and heart."

  "I think I had rather also," Holly said with grave courtesy and unmistakable sincerity. "But must every member of a 'class' be the same? Can there not be good and bad in all classes?"

  "My father says the same. I believe his wisdom but I have not seen anything to prove him correct."

  "I cannot claim that I will prove his truth, but will you allow me to attempt it?" he said.

  "I think you will not be in Harrowgate long enough to attempt or prove."

  "You may be wrong in that. At least will you believe that I judge no one by his station in life but by his actions? And will you accord me the same favour? Judge me not by what I am but who I am?"

  "I will try, that is all I can say," Dinah managed.

  The boys were upon them: Hamilton was sliding off the grey's back, while Geoffrey clung to the reins. "My lord, what is his name? We did not ask it of you," Hamilton called.

  Holly seemed relaxed for the first time in the presence of Dinah's siblings. "They tell me he is called The Challenger. They have done some flat racing with him, at the stable. I mean to keep him for my stay."

  "Perhaps we may meet again here," Geoffrey said.

  "No, the Stray would be better for riding," his junior countered. "And it is excellent for practicing bowling, sir." He smiled ingenuously at the viscount, who was undoubtedly taken aback.

  "I...I suppose, but we must not neglect your...your sisters," Holly said.

  Hamilton hunched a shoulder, and Geoffrey laughed. "Oh they are content to wander about and gather flowers," he said. He waved a dismissive hand at Adelaide and Harriet who hurried up, their hands full of bright blossoms.

  Drawn from her consideration of the viscount's words by her brothers, Dinah realized they had nearly come within the village again. "Geoffrey! You know very well we enjoy a variety of activities."

  "Have you tried the waters, my lord?" Harriet said, as she and Adelaide rejoined the group clustered about the tall grey horse.

  "If I try any waters, it will not be those of Low Harrowgate. The Chalybeate would be more to my taste than the Sulphur, but no, I leave the waters to the infirm," he said with a charming laugh, and reclaimed the reins of his mount from Geoffrey.

  Dinah was conscious of thankfulness that her thoughts had not to be spoken aloud. She was reflecting that the word 'infirm' could in no way be applied to the viscount. He was the very picture of male health and beauty. Adelaide was staring at her curiously but Dinah could not manage to speak a word.

  In the sudden silence the viscount remounted. He bowed gracefully in the saddle to the entire family as they began to walk toward the Crescent Inn which was shimmering in the heat of early afternoon.

  "We shall meet again I have no doubt," he called, as he wheeled the Challenger and cantered off.

  It was not a long walk to Robin Hood Lane. The five Driffields were still discussing the chance encounter when they arrived at their grandmama's home.

  The young ladies were standing in the spacious entry of the old-fashioned house when a knock sounded on the door behind them. They paused in the business of removing their bonnets as Warton, who had stood ready to receive them, moved to open the door.

  Mr. Josiah Driffield and his eldest son, John were revealed stood on the doorstep. They were greeted with rapturous shrieks of welcome. They were well set-up, strong looking men both of them, the younger with a marked resemblance to the elder. Mr. Driffield had abundant grey hair worn unfashionably long, whereas his son's brown locks were carefully cropped, but their level brown gazes were identical.

  Harriet flung herself at her father, and Adelaide was equally unreserved in greeting her brother. Geoffrey pounded his older brother on his broad shoulder and Hamilton, who had run to the kitchen, returned and clung to his father's hand. The travelers' hats and coats were born away with the young ladies' bonnets by the grinning maid.

  The entire family flowed up the stairs and into the parlour. There the two Mrs. Driffields joined them with cries of delight, and queries about health and journeys.

  After exchanging embraces with her well-loved father and brother, Dinah beamed around the sunny chamber at her family. There was nothing she more enjoyed than these times when her loved ones gathered. Family news and tidbits of information flew about the saloon. The din might have appalled the uninitiated.

  When the excitement of reunion had faded a little, Harriet said, "We have a new acquaintance Papa. Viscount Holly, if you please, and his friend Mr. Matherton. They are vastly elegant, and the viscount wonderfully conversable. He is not at all high in the instep. Even Dinah likes him."

  "Oh, ho," John, the heir to his father's wealth, and well-loved eldest brother, chortled. "Even our champion of the middle classes is under the spell of an aristocrat? You are fortun
ate that Joseph was kept in Leeds by the new machinery. Our revolutionary would be disappointed in you."

  "He need have no concerns. I am under no one's spell," Dinah said, her colour high. "Lord Holly is pleasant enough for a frippery fellow. He and his friend are on their way to Scotland for the 'Glorious 12th' to idle their days away in shooting the poor grouse."

  "They are very pleasant, intelligent young men," Mrs. Driffield said. She directed a quelling look at her offspring. Her glance at Dinah was reproving. "And you may judge for yourself, Mr. Driffield, for your Mama and I have invited them to dinner Monday evening."

  This statement was greeted with acclaim by the majority of the family. Dinah was silent considering the unwelcome bit of news. Her pleasure at the reunion of her family was tarnished by an uncomfortable anxiety coupled with an unwelcome thrill of pleasure. Her brother John made his way to her side.

  "I do apologize for roasting you, Dinah. It was just so odd to hear of you conversing with a peer after all that you have said, emphatically and more than once."

  Dinah smiled at him, endeavouring to dismiss her concerns. "I have not changed my opinion, John. This Viscount Holly has come from London, where he no doubt 'did' the Season. He dresses with the utmost delicacy, and probably his valet strains the Swan's resources. He has a substantial estate in Suffolk which supports his excesses. And he is to go shooting in Scotland from whence he will wend his way south, visiting at all his friends' homes and boxes, until he arrives in Suffolk or London where he will begin the whole round again after Christmas is celebrated."

  "Still so vehement. Remember Papa's admonition, 'good and bad in all classes'," he quoted their father's statement.

  "I remember," said Dinah. She recalled the viscount's quick, charming smile, the way he absently rubbed his right temple with long slender fingers, his awkwardness with the children, and his well-informed conversation. Was he that rare exception--a 'good' peer of the realm? She could not credit it. "I strive to believe it."

  "And how does Juliana go on?" John said with ill-concealed eagerness.

  "Very well," Dinah hesitated in her dismay. She had no wish to cause her brother distress with her suspicions, and so did not mention that Holly's friend was much taken with Miss Hesler.

  Her brother did not appear to notice her uncomfortable silence. "Well, I shall be glad to meet your new acquaintances at dinner on Monday. You looked uncommonly dismayed by Mama's announcement."

  "I thought I had dissuaded her from such an invitation."

  Her brother frowned. "Are they really so very bad, these noblemen then? Mama is rarely wrong in her judgments. How can your opinion differ so from hers?"

  "Foolish prejudice, I suppose." Dinah attempted to laugh off her concerns. "I expect Mama has the right of it. They shall be gone soon enough in any event." She wondered why the thought left her with a curiously hollow feeling.

  * * * *

  The dinner party at the home of the elder Mrs. Driffield on Monday evening was more enjoyable than Sebastian had dared to hope it might be.

  He and Matherton walked from the Old Swan to Robin Hood Lane in the early evening of another hot, airless day. It had not rained since Friday and the dust of Swan Road quickly coated their Hessians, which bothered him not at all, but irritated Matherton no end.

  Sebastian's friend had twice to ask him to moderate his long, quick strides as they strode past the Promenade Rooms and the Sulphur Well. Although he regarded himself as the consummate sportsman, Matherton was in less than top-notch condition. Sebastian concealed his amusement over this fact, and abated his speed. He contemplated his urgency, and realized that he was unreasonably eager to see Miss Driffield once more.

  They were met at the door of the Driffield residence by the elderly maid, who ushered them up to the drawing room with a reverence that, Sebastian noted, Matherton took as his due. Sebastian gave her a friendly smile; she looked rather like his housekeeper at Holly Court. She responded to his overture with a dignified nod, which was just what his housekeeper would have done.

  As he trod the stairs, he paid heed, as he had not on his first visit, to the simple, comfortable character of the house. It was undoubtedly crowded by the family visiting, for there were cricket bats, newspapers and needlework where they were most unexpected, yet he fancied the home burnished by the warmth of the family's affections.

  "Hsst!" The sibilant sound caught his attention. Matherton was already halfway through the parlour door.

  Sebastian stared up to the next broad landing of the staircase which was crowded with an acutely verdant fern in an aggressively Oriental pot and the children, Harriet and Hamilton. He was relieved he had time for no more than a wave of the hand and a quick grin before he was drawn into the parlour by a gust of sociability.

  He and Matherton were the last to arrive. The necessary introductions were made with aplomb by the younger Mrs. Driffield. Sebastian was immediately taken with Mr. Josiah Driffield's quiet dignity, and the open, friendly demeanor of John Driffield. Dr. Hesler seemed from the first meeting a man of sound commonsense. Mrs. Hesler and Juliana he had of course met, and though they suffered by comparison with the Driffield ladies in his eyes, they were pleasant enough. A quick glance told him that Miss Driffield and Miss Adelaide were present and that Geoffrey was not; he recognized Bernard Humberstone with regret. The company was obviously well-known to each other. He collected his thoughts and laid himself out to be the consummate guest. As the children were not present, he was at ease.

  The pre-dinner conversations were unexceptionable, but Sebastian soon became aware that Dinah Driffield was avoiding him. She looked exquisite in a spring green taffety gown with a delicate fall of lace at the shoulders and bosom. A single emerald in a delicate gold setting was suspended on the white swell of her breast. He had to force his gaze elsewhere but removed it no further than her dainty ears where emerald drops hung against her pale neck. He took himself in hand once more, and applied himself to the conversation he was supposed to be enjoying with Dr. Hesler.

  He was not seated near to Miss Driffield at dinner. The seating arrangements around the oval table were refreshingly informal, but he could see that Matherton was put out at the disregard for precedence.

  Sebastian had no such concern; he conversed amiably with his dinner partners, the elder Mrs. Driffield on his left and Mrs. Hesler on his right. He found Mrs. Hesler rather trying, but he was accustomed to sycophancy and kept up a semblance of polite interest in her chatter. Many people were in awe of titles and inclined to flattery in the presence of aristocracy. In fact some of his acquaintances expected the unctuousness, although they disparaged the flatterer privately. He did neither and tried to put his dinner partner at ease. When her attention turned to Humberstone on her right, he gratefully turned to his other partner. The elder Mrs. Driffield was altogether a different companion. She was as Dinah had once said, sweet and kind and, he thought, remarkably astute.

  He upheld a gentle conversation with her while enjoying the very fine dinner that was presented. At the same time he snatched glances at Dinah who sat across the table from him. It was a propitious situation; he could enjoy the play of thought and emotion on her mobile face while appearing to give every attention to the conversation in which he was engaged. The candlelight gleamed on her rich brown curls, and her sherry brown eyes sparkled at something Dr. Hesler said. He found himself fascinated by the curve of her cheek, the ever so slight tip tilt of her small nose and the line of her full lower lip.

  "She's a delightful gel, my Dinah," her grandmother said.

  Sebastian withdrew his attention from across the table and realized that he had lost the thread of conversation--and that he had been staring.

  He wondered how to redeem himself, and finally said simply, "She is."

  "In truth Juliana Hesler and our Adelaide have more regular features and more conventional beauty, but there is that about Dinah that puts her far beyond them."

  To agree would be fatuous in the extr
eme; to disagree would be dishonest. He saw by the twinkle in the old lady's eyes that she understood his dilemma.

  "I should be very unhappy were anyone to trifle with my Dinah's affections, my lord."

  He heard the warning with clarity, and answered honestly, "So should I, Mrs. Driffield."

  The old lady nodded approvingly.

  With something of relief, Sebastian allowed his attention to be recaptured by Mrs. Hesler.

  Minutes later he watched with real regret as the ladies withdrew. The party had been most enjoyable, and in his experience the tenor of the evening always changed after the gentlemen and ladies had been separated. He only hoped the gentlemen would not linger long over their port, for he would count the evening lost if he could not speak with Miss Driffield.

  "Damned Luddites," Humberstone growled to Mr. Driffield, as soon as the ladies departed the room, and the port circled the table.

  "Surely the threats have subsided?" Sebastian said, withdrawing from his reflections.

  Mr. Driffield gave Sebastian's knowledge a nod of approval. "They have, my lord. But the trouble is by no means over. My friend Jamieson had a near riot last week. His son was injured."

  "Ah, we were making our first visit to your ladies when word came of that attack," Sebastian said. He could see both Driffield men note the fact. "You still have fears of violence at your mill?"

  "Perhaps not at my own..."

  "I've a lively rabble at mine. Put on guards, aye and armed them. If they try anything like frame breaking, they'll regret it." Bernard Humberstone's small eyes gleamed with malice.

  "Humberstone, you'd be better advised to explain to them the developments, the changes, that are taking place. They need information," Mr. Driffield advised. His tone was admonitory.

  "So does Humberstone himself," John Driffield commented in an undertone to Sebastian. Dr. Hesler began to tell Matherton of the injuries he'd treated due to the labour unrest, while Mr. Driffield attempted further discussion with Humberstone.