Hob
Even my father removed himself from his work long enough to notice and approve Elizabeth’s budding romance, for although he was now a knight and a gentleman and had been wealthy, he had not forgotten that he had started out in the same way that David had. Elizabeth, who had always been so diffident, started to take a hand in both Father’s and David’s business and showed a real aptitude for it, taking instruction from them on anything she did not understand and, from what I could tell, often leading the way where she did. I could never really bring myself to care as much as I ought.
Elizabeth had grown up; she was no longer Milady as she apparently felt too old for such childish nicknames. I felt we were growing apart. Beauty and I were closer, but she was still too young for many of the things I wanted to do and see in the city. It was a whole new world that had opened up for me and I fully intended to explore it, even if I had to do so alone. It was just that I was suddenly shy.
Salvation arrived the next day. I was sitting in the library downstairs, a large and very comfortable room which always had the best fires of any in the house. I was nominally reading, but in actuality I was simply staring out of the window into the light rain, wishing I had the courage to go outside and see the city at first hand. I had once promised myself that I would never be afraid of anything ever again, but somehow the very reality, solidity and stolidity of the mundane world was a harder thing to deal with than anything I had ever come across before.
“Excuse me,” came a polite voice from behind me. I turned around at once. He started to smile; his eyes widened a bit as I fully faced him, but the smile never faltered.
“Can I help you?” I asked, putting the book to one side and jumping down from the window seat.
“I was looking for…your father, I think,” he said. “I have a proposition to put to him.”
“Oh, he’s gone out,” I said. “Did you have an appointment? He doesn’t usually keep people waiting.”
“No…I came on my own initiative. Will he be gone long?”
“I shouldn’t think so. It’s nearly lunch time and he never misses that. He should be back” – I looked over at the gilded mantel clock we had brought from the old house – “in the next half an hour. I hope that isn’t too long for you to wait?”
“Not at all, if I may beg the pleasure of your company for that time.”
“Of course. I wasn’t doing anything. You have excellent manners, sir.”
“You say that, but then you remind me that I have not yet introduced myself. I am Simon of Erne.”
“The Marquis!” I said. “You are the iron roads man. David has told us all about you. Is that what you are here to speak with Father about?”
“Yes, among other things, Miss…”
“Oh, I'm Hob. I don’t think Father will invest in your iron roads, you know.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Mother did not like them. She always hated the idea of railroads being driven through the forest and trains steaming their way through what used to be secret and sacred. She said that sometimes progress was no more than men beating their brains against a wall that no one would be the better for them knocking down. Father said that quick and easy transport would be a blessing to everyone – and he hates long coach journeys – but Mother felt that the potential for the destruction of an older way of life would be greater than the benefits it might bring. He argued with her when she was still here, but now that she has gone, he won’t do it, so I wouldn't mention it to him if I were you. It will only upset him. Talk to him about something else and talk to Elizabeth about the railroads. I believe she is very keen.”
