‘Yes, my lady,’ said Sukey.
Jane and Amos walked on unchaperoned. Amos said: ‘Well, at least now you can buy all the clothes you want. You look wonderful today.’
‘I have rooms full of clothes, but where can I wear them? This dull event – the Kingsbridge May Fair – is the most exciting social occasion I’ve attended in the last three months. I expected Henry to take me to parties in London. Ha! We’ve never made one trip to London. He’s too busy – with the militia, of course.’
Northwood probably felt that Jane was too low-born to mingle with his aristocratic friends, Amos thought; but he did not say it. ‘You and he must have some social life.’
‘Parties with officers – and officers’ wives,’ she said scornfully. ‘He’s never introduced me to anyone remotely royal.’
That tended to confirm his suspicion.
Jane had not been brought up to prize social advancement. Her father had given up a high clerical position to become a Methodist pastor. She had abandoned the values Charles Midwinter had taught her. ‘You yearn for all the wrong things,’ Amos said.
Jane did not take criticism lying down. ‘And you?’ she said spiritedly. ‘What are you doing with your life? You devote yourself to your business. You live alone. You make money, but not much. What’s the point?’
He reflected on that. She was right. At first he had wanted to take over the enterprise from his father, then he had been desperate to pay off his debt, but now that he had achieved both those aims he was still working all hours. But the business did not weigh him down; in fact, it gave him satisfaction. ‘I don’t know, it seems the natural thing to do,’ he said.
‘It’s been drummed into you that a man has to work hard. But that doesn’t make it true.’
‘There’s more to it than that.’ This was something he had never much pondered, but now that she had asked the question he began to see the answer. ‘I want to prove that we can have industry without exploitation,’ he said. ‘And business without corruption.’
‘So it’s all to do with Methodism.’
‘Is it? I’m not sure Methodists have a monopoly of kindness and honesty.’
‘You think I’m unhappy because I married the wrong man.’
That was a switch. ‘I don’t mean to criticize you...’
‘But I’m right, am I not?’
Amos said carefully: ‘I certainly think you’d be happier if you had married for love.’
‘I’d be happier if I’d married you.’
She had a way of startling him with unexpected statements. ‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ he said defensively.
‘It’s true, though. I bewitched Henry, but the spell has worn off. You really loved me. You probably still do.’
He looked around, hoping that no one was within hearing distance. He realized that they had entered the woods and were al0ne.
She took his silence for assent. ‘I thought so,’ she said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his mouth.
He was too surprised to do anything. He stood still, frozen, staring at her, nonplussed.
She put her arms around him and pressed her body to his. He could feel her breasts, her belly and her hips.
‘We’re alone,’ Jane said. ‘Kiss me properly, Amos.’
He had daydreamed about this moment more times than he could count.
But he heard himself saying: ‘It’s not right.’
‘It’s as right as anything in this world. Dear Amos, I know you love me. Just one kiss, that’s all.’
Stubbornly he said: ‘But you’re married to Henry.’
‘To hell with Henry.’
