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Authors: Nancy Buckingham
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what Emma feared in her heart, but she felt suddenly angry. ‘How can your grandmother possibly know that? She hasn’t even seen Cathy recently, not for ages.’
Seth didn’t reply and kept his face averted, but Emma could tell what he was thinking. It was futile for her to question how his grandmother knew such things. Ursly’s uncanny knowledge might conceivably be attributed to shrewd guess work, but local people were convinced she had the second sight.
When they gained the high moorland Emma halted a moment, as she always did, to gaze down into the valley be hind them; at the solid stone structure of Bracklegarth Hall, and beyond it the mill on the farther bank of the river, its tall chimney belching black smoke that drifted down on to the rows of terraced cottages where the mill hands lived. It was a gloomy, depressing scene, and once again Emma felt a longing to escape. She recalled the words of the old gypsy woman at the fair, ‘Ye’ll go away from here to some distant land where no one knows ye.’ Could that really be what the future held in store for her?
A soft thudding of hooves made Emma and Seth swing round in their saddles. Even at a distance she knew immedi ately that it was Matthew Sutcliffe. Heading in their direction at full gallop, his Cleveland bay swerved agilely past a boggy patch and took in a single confident leap a small gully that lay in its path. Emma’s first thought was one of panic. She wanted to flee from him, to avoid a meeting here in this lonely spot without other people around. But she braced herself to face him.
‘Good morning, Miss Hardaker,’ he called, bringing his horse to a halt beside her. He addressed Seth. ‘I wish to have a few words with your mistress. Leave us for a short while,’
As the lad glanced at Emma for confirmation of the order, she said quickly, ‘You will do no such thing, Seth! Stay where you are,’
An impatient frown crossed the man’s face, but he con trolled himself and spoke in tones of appeal.
‘I shall be most grateful, Miss Hardaker, if you will grant me a brief conversation in private. Is it too much to ask?’
‘We have nothing to say to one another.’
‘I think you are mistaken. There are a number of things that need to be said – that must be said between us. I trust you will not oblige me to say them in the presence of a third party.’
Seth was looking very uneasy, and Emma told herself it was largely for his sake that she agreed to the impertinent demand.
‘Oh, very well! Seth, you may go and pick the heather for Cathy. She said she wanted it from right up by the Abraham Stone. I will meet you over there in a few minutes.’
‘Aye, miss.’
Matthew Sutcliffe leaped down from his saddle and ex tended a hand to assist Emma. But she chose to remain mounted, pointing out that she could perfectly well listen from there to what he had to say. It pleased her to have him at such a disadvantage, for the sun was behind her and shone into his eyes as he looked up at her.
‘It is difficult to know how to begin,’ he confessed after a lengthy pause.
‘It must be, so why begin at all? You know my opinion of you.’
His face like stone, he said slowly, ‘I was sentenced to four teen years transportation for the crime of which I was found guilty. Fourteen years! Have you any conception of what that means?’
‘It means that you were justly punished for your crime. Though less than adequately, in my opinion. Do you expect pity? ’
‘Have you none to offer? Can a young lady of gentle birth and upbringing feel no compassion for a man who has been through the hell of such a sentence?’
‘I feel no compassion for you, Matthew Sutcliffe. If you want the plain truth, I rejoice in the thought of your being made to suffer. My only regret is that your punishment has now come to an end.’
‘Then you have much to rejoice at,’ he flung back. ‘You can reflect with satisfaction that during my time as a convict in Van Diemen’s
Seth didn’t reply and kept his face averted, but Emma could tell what he was thinking. It was futile for her to question how his grandmother knew such things. Ursly’s uncanny knowledge might conceivably be attributed to shrewd guess work, but local people were convinced she had the second sight.
When they gained the high moorland Emma halted a moment, as she always did, to gaze down into the valley be hind them; at the solid stone structure of Bracklegarth Hall, and beyond it the mill on the farther bank of the river, its tall chimney belching black smoke that drifted down on to the rows of terraced cottages where the mill hands lived. It was a gloomy, depressing scene, and once again Emma felt a longing to escape. She recalled the words of the old gypsy woman at the fair, ‘Ye’ll go away from here to some distant land where no one knows ye.’ Could that really be what the future held in store for her?
A soft thudding of hooves made Emma and Seth swing round in their saddles. Even at a distance she knew immedi ately that it was Matthew Sutcliffe. Heading in their direction at full gallop, his Cleveland bay swerved agilely past a boggy patch and took in a single confident leap a small gully that lay in its path. Emma’s first thought was one of panic. She wanted to flee from him, to avoid a meeting here in this lonely spot without other people around. But she braced herself to face him.
‘Good morning, Miss Hardaker,’ he called, bringing his horse to a halt beside her. He addressed Seth. ‘I wish to have a few words with your mistress. Leave us for a short while,’
As the lad glanced at Emma for confirmation of the order, she said quickly, ‘You will do no such thing, Seth! Stay where you are,’
An impatient frown crossed the man’s face, but he con trolled himself and spoke in tones of appeal.
‘I shall be most grateful, Miss Hardaker, if you will grant me a brief conversation in private. Is it too much to ask?’
‘We have nothing to say to one another.’
‘I think you are mistaken. There are a number of things that need to be said – that must be said between us. I trust you will not oblige me to say them in the presence of a third party.’
Seth was looking very uneasy, and Emma told herself it was largely for his sake that she agreed to the impertinent demand.
‘Oh, very well! Seth, you may go and pick the heather for Cathy. She said she wanted it from right up by the Abraham Stone. I will meet you over there in a few minutes.’
‘Aye, miss.’
Matthew Sutcliffe leaped down from his saddle and ex tended a hand to assist Emma. But she chose to remain mounted, pointing out that she could perfectly well listen from there to what he had to say. It pleased her to have him at such a disadvantage, for the sun was behind her and shone into his eyes as he looked up at her.
‘It is difficult to know how to begin,’ he confessed after a lengthy pause.
‘It must be, so why begin at all? You know my opinion of you.’
His face like stone, he said slowly, ‘I was sentenced to four teen years transportation for the crime of which I was found guilty. Fourteen years! Have you any conception of what that means?’
‘It means that you were justly punished for your crime. Though less than adequately, in my opinion. Do you expect pity? ’
‘Have you none to offer? Can a young lady of gentle birth and upbringing feel no compassion for a man who has been through the hell of such a sentence?’
‘I feel no compassion for you, Matthew Sutcliffe. If you want the plain truth, I rejoice in the thought of your being made to suffer. My only regret is that your punishment has now come to an end.’
‘Then you have much to rejoice at,’ he flung back. ‘You can reflect with satisfaction that during my time as a convict in Van Diemen’s
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