‘It’s fellas: they never grow up. My mam says that, God knows how many times a day, and she’s right.’ Lucy watched as her master closed the door behind him, leaving her to worry about what was going on back at home, and whether her mother had plucked up the courage to tell her father about the baby, which was not wanted. Thank God she was out of the way for a while, because there would be hell to pay, for sure.
Adam walked slowly but surely around his acres of land, which he would have covered in an hour or less when he was in his prime, but now the rough moorland and his injured leg made walking that little bit harder, and he rested on one of the limestone walls that were in need of attention. He leaned back and closed his eyes and smelled the rich, clear moorland air, and listened to a skylark singing above his head. It was a million miles away from the roaring cannons of the battlefields of the Crimea, and his experience there made him appreciate every second of the wild moor’s silence.
He opened his eyes and smiled as he watched the moorland grass blowing in the wind. In another few months it would be covered with cotton-grass flowers, like little puffs of white cloud upon the dark peaty bogs. It seemed but yesterday that he had walked these pastures with his father and built and mended the rough limestone walls, complaining that his hands and back hurt, when his father said he was slacking. His father had been right. There was more hurt to be had in life than sore hands and an aching back, but it was too late to tell him, now that he understood. Adam breathed in deeply and followed the contour of the wall, watching it dip down into the next valley, where the village of Haworth tucked itself into the hillside. The cobbled streets were busy with small shops and people going about their business. He’d go and spend a day there shortly, perhaps call in on the vicar at the parsonage, and see the heartbroken old Reverend who lived there. He’d been a rock for Adam after the death of Mary, even after suffering heartbreaking losses in his own family.
Adam took a last look around him and decided to head home, to see what transformations Lucy had made to the old homestead in his absence. So far her employment with him was working well, and he realized that his initial opinion of an empty-headed flirt of a girl had been wrong. Lucy was a good worker and would be an asset to him in the future.
He stood up and made his way back down over the moorland to home, just as the sun was starting to dip in the sky. As he walked down back into the Worth valley he looked down upon Keighley and the industries that meandered along the valley bottom. The Industrial Revolution had arrived in his valley, and wool and cotton factories and ironworks were rising up everywhere. He was glad that he was out living in the wilds, and not part of the mad lifestyle in the valley bottom. He might not be the richest of people, but at least he was his own master.
‘Eeh, Master Brooksbank, what have you walked so far for? You look so weary.’ Lucy gave him a portion of potato-hash, fresh from a pot that had been simmering over the fire since the time he had left. ‘There’s no meat in there, but it’ll warm you through and I’ve added some sage that I found in the overgrown garden. Give me another month and I’ll have that garden full to the brim with vegetables and herbs. I’ve added to the shopping list some packets of seeds that I need, if you can remember them. It’s exactly the right time of year to be turning the ground and planting things.’
‘I’m after buying a horse first, Lucy. Do they still have the horse market in the centre of town? Or has that gone now, like everything else? A horse will save the trudge back and forth into Keighley and I can ride it around my land. It would save my legs.’
‘You’ve missed the main horse sale of the year; it’s usually held on Scott Street or Russell Street. You need to go and see Tom Gaine on Fell Lane – he breeds sturdy little fell ponies that will not think twice of carrying you, or anything else, across their backs. Everyone goes to him, he’s a right good horseman. My father swears by him, and so do a lot of folk around here, so he must be a good fella.’ Lucy looked at Adam as he ate his hash, and thought how good it smelled.
‘Have you had any of this?’ Adam looked up from his supper and noticed how hungry Lucy looked.
‘No, sir, I made it for you.’
‘Well, there’s enough for two, so pull up a chair and get yourself a plate and join me. I’m not sending you back home with an empty belly. You can join me each evening at supper, if you wish. I’d be glad of the company, and I’m not one for standing on ceremony and keeping my maid at arm’s length. We are all God’s children, after all.’
‘Are you sure, sir? I shouldn’t sit at the same table as you, it isn’t right. My mother said I’d to mind my manners and not be impudent.’ Lucy looked at Adam with concern.
‘Go on, help yourself, and then I’ll walk you part of the way home. The sun’s setting fast, and I wouldn’t want you to be accosted by any rogues out there.’ Adam watched as she placed a helping of the hash on a plate and sat down at the other side of the table from him, eating it so quickly that he couldn’t help
