God Is an Englishman by R. F. Delderfield Read Free Book Online Page B

brass the way our folk do. It all goes to t’eldest lad.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she said, carefully, “Is that why Mr.
    Goldthorpe is bringing Makepeace over here?”
    “No,” Sam said, “Goldthorpe’s coming here to look you over himself, for I’ve never known Matt to buy a pig in a poke.”
    The colour that came to her face made him regret his choice of phrase. He had, as he himself would have put it, “sounded out” far too many prospects not to sense undeclared opposition to a propo sition, and he now made a serious effort to improve his approach.
    GodIsAnEnglishman.indd 25
    3/27/09 5:13:11 PM

    2 6 G O D I S A N E N G L I S H M A N
    “You can leave the old ’un to me,” he said. “All tha’ll need to do is give t’lad a little encouragement. He’s no oil-painting, I’ll grant you that, and he’s still fast under his father’s thumb, but the old man won’t make brittle bones from all I hear. When Makepeace walks into his father’s brass he’ll be t’best catch about here, tak’ my word for it!”
    She was staring at him now, and the grimness of her expression puzzled him.
    “Makepeace is coming here to propose to me?” He said, sharply, “Great God, it’s not got as far as that yet! All I know is you’ve caught the boy’s eye and he’s mentioned as much to his father. That must mean business, otherwise I can’t see young Makepeace screwing up that much nerve.”
    “We met at the Victory Ball in the Assembly Rooms last autumn,” she said, slowly, “we danced together. Twice. Did his father tell you that?”
    “No, he didn’t, he just asked if you were spoken for, or likely to be.”
    “What did you say to that?”
    “I said you weren’t, and if any young spark came calling he’d do it through me or I’d kick his backside from here to the Mersey!” He had an uncomfortable impression that he was being forced on to the defensive and made an effort to regain the initiative. “I say nowt to you capering round the Assembly Rooms,” he growled, “so long as Mrs. Worrell was within call, but when it comes to a serious business of this kind I’ll decide what’s best for you, and don’t get to thinking different.”
    “No,” she said, in the same flat tone, “but don’t you or that old miser Goldthorpe get any daft ideas about marrying me off to Makepeace or anyone like Makepeace!
    When I wed I’ll wed a man, not a toad with a stutter and a clammy touch that makes me want to jump into the bathtub when he’s had his paws on me. Now give me that cage and let me get dressed.”
    He was so astounded that for a moment he could do no more than put the frame into her outstretched hand. It was years since anyone had dismissed him in that tone of voice and the few who had had lived to regret it. He said, heaving his bulk away from the casement, “You can tak’ your time with Goldthorpe, but who and when you wed is something I’ll decide, the same way as any man in my position would.” A sudden suspicion crossed his mind and came near to frightening him. “If there’s any other young buck who fancies his chance of walking into my money…” but she turned her back on him and stepped nimbly into the enlarged hoop so that he found him self not only hectoring a reflection but being interrupted by one.
    “There’s no one else! If it’s any comfort to you I’ve never met a man I could GodIsAnEnglishman.indd 26
    3/27/09 5:13:11 PM

    Fugitive in a Crinoline 2 7
    marry,” and somehow, because he entirely believed her, the sense of outrage left him and again he made shift to soften his approach.
    “Listen here, lass,” he said, so reasonably that his tone of voice surprised him,
    “I don’t pretend to be gentry, and I’m not a man to hound a lass into wedlock for brass and nowt but brass, but it’s time you realised you’re in t’market and put a price on yourself. I hadn’t decided on young Goldthorpe in particular. It was his father who made the approach.