There was an open stretch of grass before us. We let the horses’ stride lengthen and then Sea threw his head up. I caught his wildness in a moment and in my mind, my gypsy-brat voice said, ‘Damn the rules,’ and I let Sea go. The ground seemed to leap from under us, and I heard Will yell with pleasure behind us as his horse gave chase. We were in the lead, and Sea was going as if he wanted to gallop all the way to Sussex. I had to steady him, I had to pull him up. We were nearly by the road which intersects the park. It would have caused talk if I had been seen galloping, and that with a working man.

Sea blew out softly, but he was not winded. He could have gone on for hours. I could tell by the feel of him that he was puzzled that we had stopped so soon.

Will’s big bay thundered up to us and spattered us with mud as Will pulled him up.

‘That’s better!’ Will said. ‘That’s the first real smile I’ve seen on your face since I’ve been here! You should gallop more often, Sarah.’

I shook my head, still smiling. ‘I’m not allowed,’ I said.

Will said something under his breath which sounded like an oath. ‘Not allowed!’ he said. ‘You’re the squire of Wideacre. Why take these damned rules? Why take this hopeless man? You say yourself he’s a drunkard and a gambler. Haven’t you had enough sorrow and trouble without taking on a fool as well?’

I turned Sea’s head homeward, and I bit back a quick and angry reply.

‘I need to run my own land,’ I said carefully. ‘I need a husband so I can live as I please without Mr Fortescue’s old chaperone, or anyone bothering me.’

Will nodded, but looked like he wanted to interrupt.

‘I can’t marry an ordinary man,’ I said. ‘You know why. I’d drive an ordinary man mad within a week. I’ve no love to give, and I want none. I can manage Perry. I can keep him from gambling and from the drink when we live in the country. It doesn’t matter that he is a weak fool. He’s kind-hearted enough, he’s gentle with me. I can manage him. He is the only husband I could deal with.’

Will looked at me carefully. ‘He might like lads,’ he said bluntly. ‘Had you thought of that?’

‘What?’ I asked. I pulled Sea up and stared blankly at Will. ‘Lads?’

Will cleared his throat in embarrassment. ‘Don’t be so daft, Sarah, for the Lord’s sake,’ he begged me. ‘I just thought you should think about it. He might like lads. You know. He might be a gentleman of the back door. You know!’

I exploded in a shout of laughter. ‘A what? A gentleman of the what?’

Will was scarlet with embarrassment. ‘Now have done, Sarah,’ he said. ‘You should think about this. You’re going to marry him and you won’t always have his ma there to keep him in order. If he gets drunk he might ill-treat you. If he likes lads he could fill the house with them and there’s no one to say him nay. He could get the pox and give it to you. Think about it, for God’s sake!’

I sobered then, and nodded. ‘Thank you,’ I said frankly. ‘Thank you for thinking of me. I had not thought that Perry might like lads. I will consider it. But for me it is no great disadvantage. I don’t want a normal husband, I want one that will leave me alone. He’s told me we have to get an heir and then we will not bed together again. That’s a bargain for me in return for a gentry husband and an estate next door to Wideacre.’

‘And you’ll use the Havering power and knowledge to break the Wideacre corporation,’ Will said frankly.

I sighed. I looked into his honest brown eyes. ‘Yes,’ I said.

He nodded. ‘Thought so,’ he said. We turned the horses and walked on.

‘What have you come to London for?’ I asked. ‘You said you had business here.’

‘I have,’ he said. ‘Though I couldn’t have left the town without seeing you. I’ve come for a meeting of a society of corporations. There’s a few other places trying to farm the land together, and we all meet together every six months or so to see how things are going. There’s talk of a newspaper as well. Wideacre is one of the more successful corporations. There’s lots who want to know how we do it. I’m to give a speech to a public meeting tonight.’

I nodded, rather impressed. ‘What will you say?’ I asked.

Will smiled. ‘You’d not like it,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell them how Wideacre suffered most harshly from enclosures – that was your grandmother, Beatrice Lacey. Then the estate went into ruin after the riot. Then I’ll tell them about the rebuilding of the estate and running it as a sharing scheme with the landlord during your ma’s lifetime, when Ralph Megson was manager. And then I’ll tell them that when the estate was run by the Trust we set up the corporation.’

‘And what will you tell them about me?’ I asked.

Will’s face was grim. ‘I’ll tell them that we don’t know what the future will hold for us,’ he said. ‘That if the new squire chooses to go against us we will see the corporation ruined and we will have to leave and start again elsewhere or accept that we will become again an ordinary poor village.’

‘Leave?’ I said blankly. I had never thought that anyone might one day leave Wideacre. I had never thought of any greater change than that I should have more of a share of the profits, that it should be my decision how the land was to be used.

‘Oh aye,’ Will said. ‘There’s a few who will be there tonight who are thinking of setting up corporations: gentlemen farmers and owners of big factories in the north who want to try their hand at co-operative farming. They’d be glad to have a manager who had done something of the sort before – and made it pay,’ he added with a smile. ‘There’s a few from Acre who’d rather move than be ruled by a landlord again.’ He looked at me sideways with a half-smile. ‘Once you start changes Sarah, you may find they take you further than you meant to go.’

‘Who would stay in Acre if you went?’ I asked.

Will shrugged as if it were not his problem. With a sudden jolt of apprehension I realized that it would indeed not be his problem.

‘Those that didn’t mind working for a landlord again,’ he said. ‘Those who had not saved money over the last few years and could not afford to leave. Those who had saved enough to pay the new expensive rents you would bring in.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Each family would feel differently,’ he said. ‘Some would not bear to go. Some have been there so long, and love the countryside so well.’

‘I had not thought anyone would leave,’ I said.

‘Most would,’ Will said bluntly. ‘I’d not stay one day after your marriage. I’ve no time to waste.’

‘You’d go to one of these experimental farms?’ I asked.

‘Or America,’ he said.

I gasped, involuntarily. ‘America!’ I said.

Will looked at me and his brown eyes were smiling. ‘I could be persuaded to stay,’ he said.

I smiled back, but my eyes were steady. ‘I have to have the money and the land,’ I said.

He shrugged. ‘Then you could not keep me,’ he said gently. We turned the horses and headed for home.

‘When’s this wedding to be, then?’ he asked, as we turned down the little lane towards the stables.

‘At the end of the Season,’ I said. ‘Spring, next year.’

‘Aye,’ he said. ‘Plenty of time for you to see his paces. Time for you to change your mind if you wish. No one can constrain you, Sarah.’

We had reached the stable yard and the groom came out to take Sea. I slid from his back and patted his neck. He turned his great wise face around and lipped at my pocket, seeking a sugarlump stolen from my breakfast tray.

‘Will you come to London again?’ I asked. My voice sounded desolate. I had not meant to sound like that.

I turned and walked out to the street outside the stable yard, Will swung down from his horse’s back and led him, following me.

‘Do you want me to?’ he asked.

I turned and faced him. ‘Yes,’ I said honestly. ‘If you’re coming up to town I should like you to come and see me and bring me news of Wideacre.’

He nodded. ‘If you needed me, I should find a room and be here for you, to ride with you every morning, to see you every day,’ he said. He spoke in the same level tones as if he were asking me if the plough horses should be shod.

‘No,’ I said sadly. ‘I should not ask that of you. You should be at Wideacre.’

He swung into the saddle and looked down at me, where I stood on the pavement. ‘So should you,’ he observed.

I raised a hand to him. ‘When shall I see you again?’ I asked.

He smiled. ‘You tell me when, and I will come,’ he promised.

‘Next week?’ I hazarded.

Will smiled, a warm generous smile. ‘It just so happens that I need to come to London next Wednesday. You have just put me in mind of it. I’ll stay overnight and ride with you in the morning.’

‘Yes,’ I said, and I reached up my hand to him. Will took it and bent down low and pulled back my glove so that my wrist was bared. He pressed a kiss on to the delicate skin of the inside of my wrist and then buttoned the glove again. It was as if the touch of his lips was kept safe inside.

‘Send for me if you need me,’ he said.

I nodded, and stepped back. His horse trotted forwards and I watched them go.

30

Even if Will had not warned me of Perry I should have been watching him anyway. His drinking was getting worse, his nights were getting later. One morning, when I came out for my ride I found him retching hopelessly, clinging to the railings in broad daylight.

I took his collar in a hard grip and hauled him to his feet, and then slung his arm over my shoulder and half dragged, half walked him up the steps to the front door. The tweeny, who was up to light the fires before anyone else, let us in, horror-struck at having to open the door, which should be done by the butler, and aghast that it was his lordship.