‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and wash my face and get on with my work,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, sir, in putting the garden before your guest’s needs. I’ll go and see to her bedroom immediately, and plan what meals we can have for her stay.’ She looked with steely eyes at Adam, as he’d shown her up in front of Reggie. She’d worked hard all day, and the housework would keep until nearer Ivy’s stay. She would walk out with Reggie Ellwood, to spite Adam’s assumption of her flirting with him, even though in her heart it was Adam she wished was on her arm. But that would never be, not now Ivy Thwaite was about to appear. Even Reggie had assumed that Ivy and Adam were lovers and not just friends, so how did she stand any chance to win her employer’s heart?
Lucy could barely hold back her tears as she walked away from both men, entering the house and climbing the stairs to the spare bedroom, to make the spare bed up and dust the few pieces of furniture that were in the room. She wiped a tear away from her eye as she stood and looked out of the bedroom window, after opening it to let some fresh air into the unused room. The two men were leaning back on the garden wall, discussing sheep and no doubt other farming matters, unaware of how she really felt.
She sniffed and blew her nose. Damn the pair of them, but damn Ivy Thwaite more! She was responsible for the bad feeling between her and Adam, even though Ivy had not yet arrived. Lucy pulled out the spare pillows from the dark oak wardrobe and plumped them up with her fists, imagining the as-yet-unknown face of Ivy as she did so, and regretting accepting to walk out with Reggie that coming Sunday. He might be attractive in his looks, but she didn’t find him attractive in any other way. She’d only agreed to make Adam realize that she was worthy of his love.
Adam stood at the farmhouse doorway. The light was dying and the moorland around him was quiet, apart from the odd bleating of a lost lamb from its mother, high above on the moor. He smoked his pipe and thought about the day he’d had, and the mood Lucy had been in all day. It wasn’t like her. She’d been surly since breakfast time and she’d been far from decent in manner when he’d mentioned that Ivy was coming to stay. Then, when he’d come back down from the moor, to find her flirting and carrying on with Reggie Ellwood, he’d lost his patience. What did she want with Reggie? Surely she knew that he’d no money and that a life with him would be no better than the life she had at the flaypits. Lucy could do so much better for herself. And it was only the other week that she said she wouldn’t be giving him the time of day.
She’d hardly spoken all afternoon and had left that evening with barely a word, apart from giving Adam a list of meals that she thought appropriate for Ivy’s stay, and a snide comment of it being fit for a queen, if not for Ivy. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Lucy had decided to slight his oldest friend, but she had no reason to do so; she didn’t even know Ivy, and Lucy had no reason to be jealous of her. He only hoped that when Ivy arrived at Black Moss, Lucy would make her welcome and that she’d not show the petty side of herself, as she had done today.
There had been one good outcome of the day: the fact that Reggie had been able to rent his land at a cheaper rate, now the Baxters were in the jail. Reggie had also told him that the Baxters’ home, and the adjoining land to Adam’s, was to be sold. That was of great interest to Adam. He wouldn’t mind buying and owning further land, especially the adjoining land of the Baxters, although he had no use for the farmhouse. However, he could always rent it to some deserving soul, he mused, as he wondered if he had enough savings for his plan. He’d have to watch what he spent in the future, and then he might be able to scrape a decent amount together, he thought, as he ventured into his home for the night.
‘So who’s this lad you are walking out with this afternoon?’ Bill Bancroft looked at his daughter as she placed her best Sunday hat on her head, and dotted eau de parfum of violets on her wrists. ‘Is he worth all this bother? In other words, has he got brass?’ he growled.
‘He farms just above Ing Row. But no, he doesn’t have much brass. But he’s asked me out for tea in Haworth, so I’m going to make the best of it. Nowt will come of it, Father, so you needn’t worry. He’s not my sort of man.’
‘Then why are you walking out with him?’ Her mother looked up from her darning and glanced at her wayward daughter, as she preened herself for a lad she didn’t care for. ‘You shouldn’t lead him on, if you don’t care for him – it’s not right.’
‘Nay. And if he’s got nowt in the bank, then you can do better for yourself,’ Bill added.
‘Well, I’ve made up my mind now and he’ll be here in a second. A stroll around Haworth, finishing with a cup of tea and a slice of cake, will be a pleasant change from stopping in this godforsaken place.’ Lucy looked at herself again and felt her stomach churn. She didn’t really want to go with Reggie, but she’d no option now.
‘Lucy’s got a fella . . . Lucy’s got a fella . . .’ Nathan chanted and egged Susie to join him in his teasing, as he danced
