Page 98 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

‘It is not only that,’ he said. ‘We Ancasters have held that land for twenty generations, you know.’

It was a boast his father was fond of quoting, whenever he was in his cups – though pride in the longitude of his family line had yet, in Ashford’s experience, to translate into any active participation in trying to rescue it. Whenever Ashford tried to raise the topic, the duke would chastise Ashford for his dullness as if Ashford were not trying his best …

‘And what of those before that?’ Miss Hanworth interrupted his reverie.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The twenty-first generation,’ she said. ‘Where did those fellows live?’

‘They came over with the Norman conquest,’ he said, raising his chin loftily.

Miss Hanworth gave a sceptical snort.

‘It is true! You may look at my family tree, if you do not believe me.’

‘No, thank you,’ she said, promptly. ‘It sounds a rather dull use of time.’

‘Were you about to make a point,’ he said, ‘or do you wish to be distracted by insults?’

‘My point was,’ she said, ‘matters change.’

‘So wise,’ he said. ‘Shakespeare, is it?’

‘Oh, ha ha,’ she said witheringly. ‘I am being serious.’

‘Inspiring, too.’

‘Even your family has not been here forever,’ she said. ‘And not everything has to be the same, forever, to have value.’

‘But … legacy,’ he said. ‘Tradition.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Your sentence is missing its verbs.’

‘Do you feel no attachment to it?’ he said. ‘Surely even your family—’

‘Even my family?’ she repeated, with a crow of outrage. ‘And what pray, do you mean by that? The scaff and raff don’t understand tradition, is that right?’

‘It was not meant to be a—’ He stopped, tried to regroup. ‘It is just that you do not have land, exactly …’

‘Wrong!’ she trilled out. ‘What pray, do you think the factories were built upon?’

He capitulated. ‘My point stands: you feel a connection to that … heritage, don’t you?’

Conversation paused for a moment as they negotiated their way through a gate – the others were so far ahead that they had obviously elected to shut it, in case of wandering livestock.

‘I don’t know,’ Miss Hanworth said, thoughtfully. ‘Grandfather’s achievements were considerable, but we were never encouraged to speak of them, or take pride in them, outside the home.’

Ashford recollected, vividly, the look on Lady Hesse’s face when she had heard the word ‘factory’ from Miss Hanworth’s lips.

‘Why did he take such an attitude?’

‘Oh, he wished us to be genteel, refined, to go where he could not.’ She smiled to herself rather wryly. ‘But … though we all owe him a great deal, I do not feel the same obligation, as you do.’

‘You do not feel you should honour what was built for you – seek out social ascension, if that was his desire?’

He watched as she considered it, thoughts passing across her face as ripples on a pond.

‘My mother did,’ she said, after a long pause, ‘and my aunt, but for me … No. If anything, it is my grandmother I wish to honour. She was a maid, you know.’ She shot him a quick, evaluating glance. ‘And that is a secret.’