A Question of Impropriety

‘You never know. You might enjoy it.’ The words poured out of him, smooth as velvet. She could almost feel them stroking her skin. ‘Are you issuing challenges now, Miss Clare?’

‘No.’ Diana forced her chin to rise and refused to let him see her discomfort. He was trying to unsettle her, that was all. She tried to ignore how silent the track had become and how the sounds of the children playing were now quite distant. ‘If nothing else, London taught me caution. I found it hard to credit how many inappropriate suggestions were put to me before Algernon was cold in the ground. Good day to you, Lord Coltonby.’

She took several steps and then felt his hand on her elbow, preventing her from leaving. His breath fanned her cheek, warming it. Diana kept her body still and concentrated on a stone in the road. ‘Let me go.’

‘I can only apologise for the crassness of Songbird’s brethren, but you mistook my meaning.’ His voice became clipped, his eyes chilled. ‘I would never use such a stratagem to force a woman to do anything that she did not want to do. You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Clare, with or without your spinster’s cap.’

She knew the combination of her current gown and cap made her look bilious and forty. Even Simon had remarked on its ugliness. She had been pleased with this before, but suddenly she wanted Lord Coltonby to look at her in a different way. A faint tremor went through her. It was as if she had opened Pandora’s box and all thoughts and desires she had tried to suppress or hide rushed out in one fell swoop. Maybe she was wanton after all. Maybe all this attraction was coming from her. Maybe her cap no longer protected her. Maybe it never had. No, it had to. It was just further back on her head than she would wish.

Diana jerked the ribbons of her cap hard. The right-hand ribbon and half the cap came away in her hand. Her insides turned over and the stain of humiliation flooded on to her cheeks as she saw the gleam in his eyes.

‘It still does not suit you. Heed my advice, Miss Clare—get rid of the cap. Better yet, burn it. A truly determined suitor would take no notice in any case. It only gives the illusion of protection.’

The man was insupportable. How dare he say such things! Her cap was important. It kept her safe. It showed the world that she was a lady, that she was not in the market for a husband. She would have to repair the cap immediately. ‘Illusion of protection?’

‘I once knew a man who swore that a certain rabbit’s foot would keep him from illness and ruinous debts. He paid a tremendous amount for it. He even cajoled me into returning to a nest of thieves and cut-throats to retrieve it after he had been injured in a fight and could not leave his bed. I tried once and was beaten back, but the pleas of the man only increased as he begged me to help him. Bagshott had suggested caution and to forget it, but I opted for the bold approach and retrieved the item. I had promised, you see.’

‘And what happened to the man after…?’

‘My brother died of typhoid with the rabbit’s foot clutched tightly between his fingers. And he was in the process of removing to the Continent to escape his creditors.’

‘I am so sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I merely sought to illustrate what happens when one puts one’s faith in objects. Actions are what counts, not objects, Miss Clare.’

‘Good day to you, Lord Coltonby.’

‘And you, Miss Clare.’

Brett watched her go—her skirts swung about her legs, revealing a well-turned ankle. The encounter had gone better than he had dared hope.

A light suggestion. Friendly banter. Nothing too overt. Miss Clare in the end would do as he wished.

He smiled. And there was very little Simon Clare could do about it, except fume and fret. He looked forward to seeing Clare’s face, but mostly he wanted to see what Miss Clare would do next. The chase in many ways was far more satisfying than the final surrender.

‘I had expected you to be at home.’ Simon’s annoyed tone greeted Diana before she had even had time to put the basket away.

‘I was out visiting the colliers’ families. Mrs Dalton is confined with her third child and the Widow Tyrwhitt has taken to her bed.’ She paused and removed her bonnet. ‘It is my afternoon for making the rounds. You agreed on the importance of this. It is our duty to make sure they are looked after.’

‘Yes, yes, you do a fine job. God knows that I cannot see the point. People always have complaints and they fail to understand the virtues of business.’

‘Simon.’ Diana pressed her lips together. They had had this argument several times over the past few years. It bothered her that Simon appeared to care more about the machinery rather than the people who made it work.

‘Later, sister. There is something you need to see.’

‘What have you done, Simon?’ Diana’s corset suddenly felt too tight as she looked at her brother. He was swaying back and forth like Robert did when he’d found a new bird’s nest. He was up to something.

‘You need to come with me to the colliery. Straight away. There is no time to change.’

‘To the colliery? Now?’ Diana glanced out of the window at the lengthening shadows. ‘It will be nearly dark by the time we get there. Can’t this wait until morning? I can then take a basket to the Widow Bosworth. You know how she likes company now that her boys are working down the mine.’

‘There is something I want you to see.’ He put his hand on hers. ‘Please, Diana, say you will come? For me.’

When he looked like that with his dark green eyes, Diana was forcibly reminded of how her brother had been before he had married Jayne, before he had become obsessed with order and control. Before business had ruled his life. Whatever new thing he wanted to show her, it would take her mind off Lord Coltonby and that could only be a good thing. ‘I will come.’

* * *

‘Behold the future!’ Simon proclaimed when they arrived at the colliery.

Diana stared at the huge black machine on wheels. A gigantic smokestack was at one end and at the other, a place for someone to stand. Her mouth went dry. ‘What is it?’

‘A travelling engine based on adhesion rather than pulling or ratchet.’

A travelling engine. The holy grail of every coal owner in the district. Besides William Hedley at Wylam and the viewer at Killingworth, she doubted another man in the whole of England could make a travelling engine work.

‘Where did you get it?’ she asked, coming to stand by Simon. ‘Who drew up the plans?’

‘I acted decisively.’ Simon’s expression was that of a rapt schoolboy. ‘Isn’t it a thing of beauty?’

‘But how did you get it? Only last week, you said that you could not find one. Or even obtain the plans for one.’

‘I have ways and means, Diana.’ Simon hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat. For the first time in months, Diana saw him smile, a genuine smile instead of the tight-lipped one that did not reach his eyes. ‘I had to take the opportunity. All the other masters would have given their eye teeth. Once it is up and running, whole vistas will open out in front of us. I can start up Little Ladywell again, run wagons along the disused wagon-way. Then no one can claim that the land is worthless and redundant.’

Diana sucked in her breath. The disused wagon-way. The land Lord Coltonby wanted to purchase. While she did not doubt Simon’s dedication, she wondered how much he was being spurred on by his desire to antagonise his old rival. ‘And you discussed this with Lord Coltonby?’

‘They delivered it today. I could hardly discuss it before I had the engine.’ Simon advanced towards the big black machine, and ran his hand down its side. ‘Hedley is right. The only way an engine will work is to be free running, not on a ratchet system.’

‘And how much will it cost? Who are the other investors? You have to be practical, Simon.’ Diana crossed her arms, and refused to let her brother divert her attention.

‘Not if I run it along the old wagon-way. I worked it all out in my mind. It can be done. The old staith can be reopened. And I will have no over-privileged aristocrat telling me how to run my business.’

‘Simon!’ Diana said through gritted teeth. ‘You are behaving in a high-handed fashion. You will antagonise him. I remember the quarrels you had with Sir Cuthbert.’

‘But he had learnt the errors of his way. Common sense prevailed.’

‘Only because he needed money.’ Diana drew a breath. She would have to explain about her encounter earlier and what she had seen. ‘Lord Coltonby is different. He isn’t intent on drinking the port cellar dry and gambling away his inheritance.’

‘What on earth are you talking about Diana? I knew Coltonby at university. Gaming and drinking are the man’s life. He was a seven-bottle man. And I could not count the number of card tables he graced, how many brawls he was involved in.’

‘University was a long time ago. It strikes me that he is someone who you would want to have as an ally, not as an enemy.’

‘He was the over-privileged son of an earl. He threw his weight around. Humiliated me. And I refuse to bow to his wishes and desires. He is not getting one inch of my ground until he has sweated blood for it.’

Diana stared at the large black machine. She had never realised how deeply Simon’s experiences at university had affected him. But she had also heard the passion in Lord Coltonby’s voice when he spoke of his estate and his desire to do something with it. There was more to the man, if only Simon would see it.

‘Simon, you need to grow up and think beyond what happened to you all those years ago.’