The sharp slope of sheep-nibbled grassland flattened out into rolling, open moors, patched green and brown and punctuated by occasional clumps of trees or thickets of scrub. Dotted across the vastness were flocks of sheep, like so many clouds on a green sky.
‘Um.’ Lily stared. ‘There is an awful lot of it. I was expecting fields—how do you keep the sheep in?’
‘We do not have to; they know where they live.’ It all seemed very odd to Lily. Jack grinned at her. ‘You really are a town creature, aren’t you, Lily?’
‘I suppose I am … I never thought about it. We have never owned land, you see, so countryside is just something one drives through. How do you know where your land stops? I cannot see any fences.’
‘There are none, and everything you can see is mine.’
‘All this?’ Lily turned in the saddle, looking back over the wide valley and the rising land on the other side. ‘And that way?’
‘Yes, as far as you can see.’
‘But that must be thousands of acres!’ Jack nodded and pressed his heels into the hunter’s sides so that they began to approach a flock of sheep. Lily eyed them nervously as they came closer. ‘Then why do you not sell some land to raise money for the mine?’ It seemed so obvious.
‘Sell? Sell Allerton land?’ Now what had she said wrong? Jack was staring at her as though she had suggested he walk naked down Piccadilly. It was obviously not just a bad idea, but an impossible concept.
‘Well, yes. Or is it all entailed?’ Lily was not quite certain what a entail was, but she knew it was some sort of legal device to prevent one generation from selling their descendents’ inheritance.
‘Some of it is.’ He was still treating the suggestion as ludicrous. ‘But I could not sell land.’
‘Why not? Is it not worth much?’ Lily had gone beyond any attempt at tactfulness in her need to understand.
‘An acre here is not worth as much as an acre of, say, Suffolk, grazing, but it has a reasonable monetary value all the same. But this is not about money. You do not understand, Lily.’
‘No. I do not. Explain it to me.’
‘I do not know if I can. The land is what we are, where we came from. Blood and bone. I sell this land over my dead body.’ That was plain enough, if still incomprehensible. Was land not just another asset? If she wanted to sell parts of the business to improve another section, then she would do it happily, even if it was something her father had bought and built up; that was how it worked.
Lily caught her lower lip between her teeth to stop herself saying as much. To do so would be to blunder, she could tell that. She had come up hard against the heart-deep source of that pride that was so blatantly displayed by Adrian and which ran, like a seam of coal, through Jack. He had all this land, but the mine had his intense interest, took most of his time and energy. Yet he would not sacrifice an acre to save the mine. She shook her head. This, then, was the gulf between the landed classes and the new rich: no amount of money could purchase the elusive cachet of ancestral lands.
‘Given up trying to understand me, Lily?’ Jack was smiling at her; at least she had not blundered too much.
‘I did that almost as soon as I met you,’ she retorted with an attempt at lightness. ‘My goodness—Lady Philpott!’
‘Where?’ Jack stood in his stirrups and stared round. ‘And who the devil is Lady Philpott?’
Lily pointed with her whip at the Roman-nosed sheep that was regarding her stolidly. ‘The nose, and that ridiculous clump of curls on top of its head! Lady Philpott is very much given to turbans.’
Jack snorted with laughter and urged his mount closer, scattering the sheep. ‘One hopes she is not as dim-witted as a sheep, or one must be deeply sorry for her husband.’ Despite his words, Lily could see he was checking the animals, running a knowledgeable eye over them. ‘They’re in good fettle this year.’
‘What is that?’ Lily pointed to a plume of grey smoke rising over the edge of the moor.
‘The smoke from the engine house at the pit head.’ Jack wheeled round and began to head back towards the valley. ‘And, no, Lily, before you ask, we are not going to look at it.’
‘Why not?’ Because you do not want me interfering in your precious mine. Because I blundered once and I have not been forgiven.
‘Because it is dirty, rough and dangerous and no place for a lady.’
Lily urged Chaffinch up beside the grey. ‘I have ridden through Indian hill country and camped out in dacoit territory. I have sailed halfway round the world. I have been in more factories than I can count. I am not one of your conventional ladies, Jack!’
‘No?’ He twisted in the saddle to look at her, his expression bleak. ‘Then I think it will be safer all round if you become one.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lily and Jack arrived back at the castle to find that the informal dance had become the ideal opportunity to announce Caroline’s betrothal to the world. Caroline was looking radiant, Susan and Penelope were hugging themselves with glee, Lady Allerton was viewing the happy couple tolerantly and only the prospective bridegroom appeared to be suffering any apprehension.
‘Caroline, I really feel I should have spoken to Lord Allerton before we announced this.’ His earnest face was anxious and did not lighten when Jack swung down from his horse and came over.
‘I imagine you had every intention of doing so before you said anything to my sister,’ he said, shaking Willoughby by the hand. ‘But ten minutes alone with her and she had undermined every very proper resolution you had formed.’ He added, straight-faced, ‘The girl is obviously a minx—I am amazed you are prepared to take her on.’
Ignoring his betrothed’s highly vocal protests, Willoughby cleared his throat and responded earnestly, ‘I will not have it so! I am afraid that the merest suggestion that Miss Lovell was not indifferent to my suit was enough to undermine every principle on my part and I most improperly spoke my mind.’
Trying hard not to catch Jack’s eye, and pretending she could not hear Penny’s stifled giggles, Lily followed the family party into the castle. All very mysterious, the attraction of one human being to another! At least one could be sure that the worthy Mr Willoughby was unlikely to be making love to his betrothed on the drawing-room carpet.
She felt the colour mount in her cheeks at the memory of Jack’s lovemaking on that wonderful evening. Was it better to have tasted such passion and then to have lost it, or never to have known it at all?
‘You are looking very thoughtful.’ Jack was watching her steadily, the dark gaze seeming to touch her skin like a whisper.
‘I was thinking what a momentous step it was for them, and hoping they will be happy.’
‘So was I.’ Jack lifted her hand in his, frowning down at it as it lay within his open fingers. His thumb rubbed idly across her palm and Lily shivered, but made no move away. ‘She has a knack of knowing what will make her happy, my sister, I have rarely found her mistaken. I only wish I had the same talent.’
Lily was still brooding over Jack’s dark mood the next morning when Caroline caught her after breakfast. ‘Would you like to go to the pit head today?’
‘That is kind, but surely you will be spending the day with Mr Willoughby?’
‘Jack has ridden over to see George so they can discuss tiresome things like settlements and endowments and reversions and goodness knows what else.’ Caroline smiled wistfully. ‘George will not even discuss the date for the wedding until all that is settled; he is mortified that I cajoled him into proposing before he had spoken to Jack. George,’ she added, with a hint of pride, ‘is very concerned for good form.’