An Unwelcome Distraction Excerpt

Book 2: Becksleigh Canal

The Becksleigh Region in rural inland England- early 1800s

About Book

Buy Book

Series

Lady Frances was not amused. She had just bent under the rail of a rough, wooden fence, scraping her back in the process, and was now standing on a squelchy path, holding the train of her elegant riding habit over her arm. The path led through an uneven area of flattened grass and yellow-flowered Gorse shrubs—to who knew where.

“My dear,” said a greying, middle aged man in front of her, well equipped with knee-length boots, “you and the other ladies don’t need to come with us. Mr Pearce just wants to show me the canal worksite. We won’t be long.”

“I have come this far, Father. I may as well continue,” she replied. For goodness sake, she thought, I am an earl’s daughter. Why have I been dragged to some grubby worksite?

“Please yourself, my dear,” said the earl. “But stay well clear of the spiny Gorse.”

“It should be all right, my lord. We need go only ten yards up this slight slope.” This was spoken by a tall, dark-haired gentleman, a Mr William Pearce, Director of Operations of the Simmington Canal Company.

There were six in the group, three gentlemen and three ladies, and they were soon standing on a flat area near the edge of a long, 18 foot deep cutting located a couple of miles from the River Beck in rural England. The cutting—a canal under construction—was filled with scores of workmen in tattered clothes. They were standing on, in, and around a complicated wooden structure, the top of which was half-formed into a flattened arch. All of this was set in a great sea of oozy, black mud.

Pearce walked to the edge of the bank and yelled, “Mr McBride, are you down there?” He had to call a couple of times, before a slim, young man with sandy hair—better dressed than his fellows—emerged onto a narrow plank from within the structure, squinting into the sunlight.

And then … he was gone.

A roar of jeers and laughter erupted from the crowd of workmen, as two of them scrambled into a slimy mud pool near the plank, extracting with some difficulty, a squirming figure from the mire. As they righted him on the boardwalk, the now thickly-encased figure spat mud from his mouth, and tried vainly to wipe it from his person.

He straightened up and roared at the now-hushed workmen, demanding to know which idiot it was who had left a shovel across the boardwalk. A simple question—but richly embellished by an extremely foul array of expletives.

Meanwhile, a scrawny old man lifted the shovel from the boardwalk. Holding it aloft, he asked the crowd, with a droll Irish lilt, “Now, who’d be ownin’ this shiny red shovel—‘ardly ever used, by the look of it. I wonder who’d be affordin’ such a grand spoon as this? Sure, it couldn’t be none of us poor beggars.”

The man of mud grabbed the shovel from the old Irishman, inspecting it closely.

“Must ‘ave been ‘the wee folk’ what left it there, Paddy,” a wag called out.

There was a huge laugh from the crowd, this time joined by the man of mud, who threw back his head in enjoyment at his own folly.

“Foremen Jones,” he called, as the laughter died down, “I want two men assigned to keep a close watch for malingering wee folk. If found, send the rascals back to Ireland, immediately.”

Then, to a chorus of laughter, he stumbled his way through the slime towards his superior on the bank.

Up on the top of the ditch, Pearce turned to his five, richly-dressed companions, and said, “I’m sorry about the … er … colourful language, everyone. An unfortunate occurrence.”

By this time, McBride had reached the bank through the mud. Looking up, he said, “Mr Pearce, how can I help you, sir?”

Pearce lent forward, and said in a low voice, “You can drop the foul language for a start, McBride. What on earth happened over there? No, never mind. I have some important visitors with me. I was hoping that you, as resident engineer, could tell them a bit about what you are building here. But that doesn’t seem possible now. We can’t talk to a pillar of mud.”

At that moment, one of his guests, a petite young woman of about 20 years, dressed in a very stylish riding habit, stepped forward to the edge of the cutting. “Oh, Sandy,” she said, with a laugh, “or should I call you, Muddy? That’s yet another of your suits ruined. How on earth can you afford to replace the clothes you constantly damage? You’re impossible, you really are.”

“Alice … I mean, Miss Leyland. Are you up there? I’m sorry. I can barely see. I have grit in my eyes,” he said.

“Then, don’t rub them,” she replied. “I was hoping to introduce you to our friends up here. The Viscount and Viscountess Simmington—you know, the former Miss Priscilla Dalton who used to live here, and the Earl of Acksmore and his daughter, Lady Frances.”

“Who did you say?”demanded McBride.

“The Earl of Acksmore and Lady Frances.”

“What are they doing here?” said McBride, with a snarl.

“McBride!” said Pearce, sharply. “Keep a civil tongue in your head. Now, you are obviously out of sorts after your spill. Go and clean yourself up. I’ll talk to you later.”

Pearce turned towards his guests. “Despite appearances,” he said, “Mr McBride really is an excellent canal engineer. What these men are working on here are the temporary supports for an arched stone aqueduct across a tributary of the River Beck. When finished, the tributary will flow under the aqueduct, and the canal boats will float across it to the bank on the other side and continue their journey. McBride is closely supervising its construction. I should have warned him that we were coming, and spared you this unpleasant, little scene.”

“Oh, it’s all right, Will,” said Lord Simmington, a tall, thin young man, who was standing next to his stunningly beautiful wife. “I found it quite amusing. And he does have an unusually rich and colourful vocabulary,” he added, with a laugh.

“Yes,” said Lady Simmington, with a giggle. “You will have to explain to me what all those bad words mean, Roger.”

“Yes, my dear, I will. But not now,” he responded, chuckling.

“Well, I don’t want to know,” said Lady Frances, her light brown eyes sparking. “It was gutter talk. What a rough, ill-bred person he is. And he was most unpleasant when my father’s name was mentioned. He clearly doesn’t know how to behave before his betters. I’m surprised, Mr Pearce, that you employ men of that stamp in responsible positions.”

Before Pearce could respond, Alice Leyland jumped in. “Oh, Lady Frances, we caught him at a bad moment. He really is the most engaging young man, and perfectly well-behaved in social settings. But, when he is with his workmen—navvies, they are called—he talks to them in the way they talk to each other. They love him for it. And he’s so funny. He is always climbing into holes in the ground, and clambering over wooden structures. Hardly a day goes by that he doesn’t tear his clothes or get covered with dirt. Although, I have never seen him so completely covered in mud before. I hardly recognised him.”

“So, you actually mix socially with such a person, Miss Leyland?” asked Lady Frances, looking down her nose.

“Oh yes. Sandy often dines with our family. I shouldn’t call him Sandy, I suppose, but we are good friends. His name is Alexander McBride. He came here over three years ago, when Cousin William”—she gestured towards Pearce—“came to the area to finalise plans for the Becksleigh canal. Mama and Papa often invite him over for dinner to ensure he eats well—and because they like him.”

“I see,” said Lady Frances. “So, I will be subjected to him again, when I stay with you?”

“No, not if you dislike it, Lady Frances,” said Alice, in a subdued tone. “I will talk to Mama and Papa about it—if you like.”

“No, please don’t do so on my account. I will be a guest in your house and must, I suppose, accustom myself to your ways.”

Sensing the constraint between the two young women, Pearce turned to Lord Acksmore and said, “As you saw on the way here, my lord, cargoes are now being transported on canal boats to and fro between the loading areas in Little Becksleigh and the canal networks to the south of us. The works you see below us are part of the northern section of the canal that will connect the River Beck with the canal networks up north. When this section is finished, canal boats will be able to continue their journey the short distance down the river from Little Becksleigh, past Much Becksleigh, and then turn north from the river through this section of the canal.

“We took only two years to build the southern section, and have been working on this section for over a year. With good weather, we hope to finish the whole canal within three to four months. Then we will truly become an important connector canal, linking the major canal networks to the north with those to the south.”

“Yes, it is very impressive, Mr Pearce,” said Lord Acksmore. “Your principal engineer Mr Samuel Thomas seems to have done a good job designing the canal. I can see more clearly now how I might build a canal at Acksmore for my planned new coal mine. It is partly because of Mr Thomas’s fine reputation that I am considering the Simmington Canal Company as a partner in my venture.”

“And we are very pleased that you are, my lord. Mr Thomas is indeed a very fine engineer and has general oversight of canal engineering. However, he does rely heavily on his assistant, Mr McBride, who is a very experienced engineer. In fact, McBride designed this aqueduct here, and many other structures along the canal.”

“I am surprised,” said Lord Acksmore, “that Mr Thomas has given such heavy responsibility to a man who appears so young and callow—as far as I could tell under all that mud, of course. I’ve looked into all the well-known canal engineers, and I have not seen McBride’s name mentioned among them.”

“That’s true, my lord. He is only 26 years old, but is clearly a rising star. I realise that he didn’t show up well today, and was rather uncouth in his behaviour, but—”

“That doesn’t bother me, Mr Pearce. I don’t expect engineers to be gentlemen. They get dirt on their hands, so they can’t be. They learn their trade through apprenticeships in mills, factories, mines and the like. That’s not a problem for me. I don’t need to mix socially with them. What’s important is that they are capable of doing the job I pay them to do—like any other servant I employ. Although, I do expect them to show due respect to my rank. Mr McBride was, I think, somewhat deficient in this regard.“

“Yes, I’m sorry about that, my lord. I will have a word to him. What if I show you some of his work during your visit—the reservoir he designed, and parts of the southern section of the canal?”

“By all means, Mr Pearce. But, let that be an end to canal talk for the day. I think we have bored the others long enough with such matters.”

“Thank goodness,” muttered Lady Frances.

“Certainly, my lord,” said Pearce. He turned to Alice Leyland, and said, “I am pleased we happened on you when you were out riding this morning, Cousin Alice. You have your groom with you so I’m sure you’ll be fine riding home. We won’t disturb your parents today, but will continue back across the river to Much Becksleigh. We will see you and your parents during our planned visit in a few days time.”

Return to Book Page