Another horse came up the hill and Robert got off. He spoke to Lizzie in an irate undertone. Lizzie's reply was clearly audible: "This is barbaric!" In his distress Mack felt profoundly grateful to her. Her indignation comforted him. It was some consolation to know that there was one person among the gentry who felt human beings should not be treated this way.

  Robert replied indignantly, but Mack could not make out his words. While they were arguing, the men began to come up from the pit. However, they did not return to their homes. Instead they stood around the horse-gin, watching without speaking. The women also began to gather: when they had emptied their corves they did not go back down the shaft but joined the silent crowd.

  Robert ordered the ostler to stop the horse.

  Mack at last stopped running. He tried to stand proud, but his legs would not support him, and he fell to his knees. The ostler came to untie him, but Robert stopped the man with a gesture.

  Robert spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Well, McAsh, you said yesterday that you were one day short of servitude. Now you have worked that extra day. Even by your own foolish rules you're my father's property now." He turned around to address the crowd.

  But before he could speak again, Jimmy Lee started to sing.

  Jimmy had a pure tenor voice, and the notes of a familiar hymn soared out across the glen:

  Behold, a man in anguish bending

  Marked by pain and loss

  Yonder stony hill ascending

  Carrying a cross

  Robert flushed red and shouted: "Be quiet!"

  Jimmy ignored him and began the second verse. The others joined in, some singing the harmonies, and a hundred voices swelled the melody.

  He is now transfixed with sorrow

  In the eyes of men

  When we see the bright tomorrow

  He will rise again

  Robert turned away, helpless. He stamped across the mud to his horse, leaving Lizzie standing alone, a small figure of defiance. He mounted and rode off down the hill, looking furious, with the thrilling voices of the miners shaking the mountain air like a thunderstorm:

  Look no more with eyes of pity

  See our victory

  When we build that heavenly city

  All men shall be free!

  11

  JAY WOKE UP KNOWING HE WAS GOING TO PROPOSE marriage to Lizzie.

  It was only yesterday that his mother had put it into his mind, but the idea had taken root fast. It seemed natural, even inevitable.

  Now he was worried about whether she would have him.

  She liked him well enough, he thought--most girls did. But she needed money and he had none. Mother said those problems could be solved but Lizzie might prefer the certainty of Robert's prospects. The idea of her marrying Robert was loathsome.

  To his disappointment he found she had gone out early. He was tense, too tense to wait around the house for her to return. He went out to the stables and looked at the white stallion his father had given him for his birthday. The horse's name was Blizzard. Jay had vowed never to ride him, but he could not resist the temptation. He took Blizzard up to High Glen and galloped him along the springy turf beside the stream. It was worth breaking his vow. He felt as if he were on the back of an eagle, soaring through the air, borne up by the wind.

  Blizzard was at his best when galloping. Walking or trotting he was skittish, unsure of his footing, discontented and bad tempered. But it was easy to forgive a horse for being a poor trotter when he could run like a bullet.

  As Jay rode home he indulged himself in thoughts of Lizzie. She had always been exceptional, even as a girl: pretty and rebellious and beguiling. Now she was unique. She could shoot better than anyone Jay knew, she had beaten him in a horse race, she was not afraid to go down a coal mine, she could disguise herself and fool everyone at a dinner table--he had never met a woman like her.

  She was difficult to deal with, of course: willful, opinionated and self-centered. She was more ready than most women to challenge what men said. But Jay and everyone else forgave her because she was so charming, tilting her pert little face this way and that, smiling and frowning even as she contradicted every word you said.

  He reached the stable yard at the same time as his brother. Robert was in a bad mood. When angry he became even more like Father, red faced and pompous. Jay said: "What the devil is the matter with you?" but Robert threw his reins to a groom and stomped indoors.

  While Jay was stabling Blizzard, Lizzie rode up. She, too, was upset, but the flush of anger on her cheeks and the glint in her eyes made her even prettier. Jay stared at her, enraptured. I want this girl, he thought; I want her for myself. He was ready to propose right then and there. But before he could speak she jumped off her horse and said: "I know that people who misbehave must be punished, but I don't believe in torture, do you?"

  He saw nothing wrong in torturing criminals but he was not going to tell her that, not when she was in this mood. "Of course I don't," he said. "Have you come from the pithead?"

  "It was awful. I told Robert to let the man go but he refused."

  So she had quarreled with Robert. Jay concealed his delight. "You haven't seen a man go the round before? It's not so rare."

  "No, I haven't. I don't know how I've remained so wretchedly ignorant about the lives of miners. I suppose people protected me from the grim truth because I was a girl."

  "Robert seemed angry about something," Jay probed.

  "All the miners sang a hymn and they wouldn't shut up when he ordered them to."

  Jay was pleased. It sounded as if she had seen Robert at his worst. My chances of success are improving by the minute, he thought exultantly.

  A groom took her horse and they walked across the yard into the castle. Robert was talking to Sir George in the hall. "It was a piece of brazen defiance," Robert was saying. "Whatever happens, we must make sure McAsh doesn't get away with this."

  Lizzie made an exasperated noise and Jay saw a chance to score points with her. "I think we should consider letting McAsh go," he said to his father.

  Robert said: "Don't be ridiculous."

  Jay recalled Harry Ratchett's argument. "The man is a troublemaker--we'd be better off without him."

  "He has defied us openly," Robert protested. "He can't be allowed to get away with it."

  "He hasn't got away with it!" Lizzie declared. "He's suffered the most savage punishment!"

  Sir George said: "It's not savage, Elizabeth--you have to understand that they don't feel pain as we do." Before she could expostulate he turned to Robert. "But it's true that he hasn't got away with it. The miners now know they can't leave at the age of twenty-one: we've proved our point. I wonder if we shouldn't discreetly let him vanish."

  Robert was not satisfied. "Jimmy Lee is a troublemaker but we brought him back."

  "Different case," Father argued. "Lee is all heart and no brains--he'll never be a leader, we have nothing to fear from him. McAsh is made of finer material."

  "I'm not afraid of McAsh," Robert said.

  "He could be dangerous," Father said. "He can read and write. He's the fireman, which means they look up to him. And to judge by the scene you've just described to me, he's halfway to becoming a hero already. If we make him stay here, he'll cause trouble all his godforsaken life."

  Reluctantly Robert nodded. "I still think it looks bad," he said.

  "Then make it look better," Father said. "Leave the guard on the bridge. McAsh will go over the mountain, probably: we just won't chase him. I don't mind them thinking he's escaped--so long as they know he did not have the right to leave."

  "Very well," said Robert.

  Lizzie shot a triumphant look at Jay. Behind Robert's back she mouthed the words Well done!

  "I must wash my hands before dinner," Robert said. He disappeared toward the back of the house, still looking grumpy.

  Father went into his study. Lizzie threw her arms around Jay's neck. "You did it!" she said. "You set him
free!" She gave him an exuberant kiss.

  It was scandalously bold, and he was shocked, but he soon recovered. He put his arms around her waist and held her close. He leaned down and they kissed again. This was a different kiss, slow and sensual and exploring. Jay closed his eyes to concentrate on the sensations. He forgot they were in the most public room of his father's castle, where family and guests, neighbors and servants passed through constantly. By luck no one came in, and the kiss was not disturbed. When they broke apart, gasping for breath, they were still alone.

  With a thrill of anxiety Jay realized that this was the moment to ask her to marry him.

  "Lizzie ..." Somehow he did not know just how to bring the subject up.

  "What?"

  "What I want to say ... you can't marry Robert, now."

  "I can do anything I like," she responded immediately.

  Of course, that was the wrong tack to take with Lizzie. Never tell her what she could and couldn't do. "I didn't mean--"

  "Robert might turn out to be even better at kissing than you," she said, and she grinned impishly.

  Jay laughed.

  Lizzie leaned her head on his chest. "Of course I can't marry him, not now."

  "Because ..."

  She looked at him. "Because I'm going to marry you--am I not?"

  He could hardly believe she had said that. "Well ... yes!"

  "Isn't that what you were about to ask me?"

  "As a matter of fact--yes, it is."

  "There you are, then. Now you can kiss me again."

  Feeling a little dazed, he bent his head to hers. As soon as their lips met she opened her mouth, and he was shocked and delighted to feel the tip of her tongue hesitantly teasing its way through. It made him wonder how many other boys she had kissed, but this was not the time to ask. He responded the same way. He felt himself stiffen inside his breeches, and he was embarrassed in case she would notice. She leaned against him, and he was sure she must have felt it. She froze for a moment, as if unsure what to do, then she shocked him again by pressing up against him, as if eager to feel it. He had met knowing girls, in the taverns and coffeehouses of London, who would kiss and rub up against a man this way at the drop of a hat; but it felt different with Lizzie, as if she were doing it for the first time.

  Jay did not hear the door open. Suddenly Robert was shouting in his ear: "What the devil is this?"

  The lovers broke apart. "Calm down, Robert," said Jay.

  Robert was furious. "Damn it, what do you think you're doing?" he spluttered.

  "It's all right, brother," said Jay. "You see, we're engaged to be married."

  "You swine!" Robert roared, and he lashed out with his fist.

  It was a wild blow and Jay dodged it easily, but Robert came at him with fists flailing. Jay had not fought with his brother since they were boys, but he remembered Robert being strong, though slow moving. After ducking a rain of blows he rushed at Robert and grappled with him. To his astonishment Lizzie jumped on Robert's back, pummeling his head and screaming: "Leave him alone! Leave him alone!"

  The sight made Jay laugh, and he could not go on fighting. He let Robert go. Robert swung at him with a punch that hit him right beside the eye. Jay stumbled back and fell on the floor. With his unhurt eye he saw Robert struggling to throw Lizzie off his back. Despite the pain in his face, Jay burst out laughing again.

  Then Lizzie's mother came into the room, followed rapidly by Alicia and Sir George. After a shocked moment Lady Hallim said: "Elizabeth Hallim, get off that man at once!"

  Jay got to his feet and Lizzie disentangled herself from Robert. The three parents were too bemused to speak. With one hand over his hurt eye, Jay bowed to Lizzie's mother and said: "Lady Hallim, I have the honor to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

  "You bloody fool, you'll have nothing to live on," Sir George said a few minutes later.

  The families had separated to discuss the shocking news privately. Lady Hallim and Lizzie had gone upstairs. Sir George, Jay and Alicia were in the study. Robert had stomped off somewhere alone.

  Jay bit back a hurt retort. Remembering what his mother had suggested, he said: "I'm sure I can manage High Glen better than Lady Hallim. There's a thousand acres or more--it should produce an income large enough for us to live on."

  "Stupid boy, you won't have High Glen--it's mortgaged."

  Jay was humiliated by his father's scornful dismissal, and he felt his cheeks flush red. His mother cut in: "Jay can raise new mortgages."

  Father looked taken aback. "Are you on the boy's side in this, then?"

  "You refused to give him anything. You want him to fight for everything, as you did. Well, he's fighting, and the first thing he's got is Lizzie Hallim. You can hardly complain."

  "Has he got her--or have you done it for him?" Sir George said shrewdly.

  "I didn't take her down the coal mine," Alicia said.

  "Nor kiss her in the hall." Sir George's tone became resigned. "Oh, well. He's over twenty-one, so I don't suppose we can stop them." A crafty look came over his face. "At any rate the coal in High Glen will come into our family."

  "Oh, no it won't," said Alicia.

  Jay and Sir George both stared at her. Sir George said: "What the devil do you mean?"

  "You're not going to dig pits on Jay's land--why should you?"

  "Don't be a damn fool, Alicia--there's a fortune in coal under High Glen. It would be a sin to leave it there."

  "Jay may lease the mining rights to someone else. There are several joint stock companies keen to open new pits--I've heard you say so."

  "You wouldn't do business with my rivals!" Sir George exclaimed.

  Mother was so strong, Jay was filled with admiration. But she seemed to have forgotten Lizzie's objections to coal mining. He said: "But Mother, remember that Lizzie--"

  His mother threw him a warning look and cut him off, saying to Father: "Jay may prefer to do business with your rivals. After the way you insulted him on his twenty-first birthday, what does he owe you?"

  "I'm his father, damn it!"

  "Then start acting like his father. Congratulate him on his engagement. Welcome his fiancee like a daughter. Plan a lavish wedding celebration."

  He stared at her for a moment. "Is that what you want?"

  "It's not all."

  "I might have guessed. What else?"

  "His wedding present."

  "What are you after, Alicia?"

  "Barbados."

  Jay almost jumped out of his chair. He had not expected this. How crafty Mother was!

  "Out of the question!" his father roared.

  Mother stood up. "Think about it," she said, almost as if she didn't care one way or the other. "Sugar is a problem, you've always said. Profits are high but there are always difficulties: the rains fail, slaves get sick and die, the French undercut your prices, ships are lost at sea. Whereas coal is easy. You dig it out of the ground and sell it. It's like finding money in the backyard, you told me once."

  Jay was thrilled. He might get what he wanted, after all. But what about Lizzie?

  His father said: "Barbados is promised to Robert."

  "Let him down," Mother said. "You've let Jay down, God knows."

  "The sugar plantation is Robert's patrimony."

  Mother went to the door, and Jay followed her. "We've been through this before, George, and I know all your answers," she said. "But now the situation is different. If you want Jay's coal, you have to give him something for it. And what he wants is the plantation. If you don't give it to him, you won't have the coal. It's a simple choice, and you have plenty of time to think about it." She went out.

  Jay went with her. In the hall he whispered: "You were marvelous! But Lizzie won't allow mining in High Glen."

  "I know, I know," Mother said impatiently. "That's what she says now. She may change her mind."

  "And if she doesn't?" Jay said worriedly.

  "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Mother said.
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  12

  LIZZIE CAME DOWN THE STAIRS WEARING A FUR CLOAK so big that it went around her twice and brushed the floor. She had to get outside for a while.

  The house was full of tension: Robert and Jay hated one another, Mother was cross with her, Sir George was furious with Jay, and there was hostility between Alicia and Sir George too. Dinner had been nail-bitingly strained.

  As she was crossing the hall, Robert stepped out of the shadows. She halted and looked at him.

  "You bitch," he said.

  It was a gross insult to a lady, but Lizzie was not easily offended by mere words, and anyway he had reason to be angry. "You must be like a brother to me now," she said in a conciliatory voice.

  He grasped her arm, squeezing hard. "How could you prefer that smarmy little bastard to me?"

  "I fell in love with him," she said. "Let go of my arm."

  He squeezed harder, his face dark with fury. "I'll tell you something," he said. "Even if I can't have you, I'll still have High Glen."

  "You won't," she said. "When I marry, High Glen will become my husband's property."

  "You just wait and see."

  He was hurting her. "Let go of my arm or I'll scream," she said in a dangerous voice.

  He let go. "You're going to regret this for the rest of your life," he said, and he walked off.

  Lizzie stepped out of the castle door and pulled her furs more tightly around her. The clouds had partly cleared, and there was a moon: she could see well enough to pick her way across the drive and down the sloping lawn toward the river.

  She felt no remorse about letting Robert down. He had never loved her. If he had, he would be sad, but he was not. Instead of being distraught about losing her, he was furious that his brother had got the better of him.

  All the same, the encounter with Robert had shaken her. He had his father's ruthless determination. Of course he could not take High Glen from her. But what might he do instead?

  She put him out of her mind. She had got what she wanted: Jay instead of Robert. Now she was eager to plan the wedding and set up house. She could hardly wait to live with him, and sleep in the same bed, and wake up every morning with his head on the pillow beside her.

  She was thrilled and scared. She had known Jay all her life, but since he had become a man she had only spent a few days with him. She was leaping into the dark. But then, she thought, marriage must always be a leap into the dark: you could never really know another person until after you had lived together.