as possible.'
She bit back the words condemning Mudge and the other men. He lifted a quizzical eyebrow and his gaze slowly travelled down her body.
'And how do you propose getting back up the slope? In a dress? Weighed down by petticoats?'
'I shall go around the back of the keep. It is an easy enough walk, but straight down was quicker.' Emma adjusted her bonnet so it sat firmly on her head. The sleet appeared to be coming down heavier than ever. She had lost feeling in her fingers. 'You may join me, if you wish. The keep is stunning close up. It is more than the pile of stones Mudge claims.'
'It will give me an opportunity to refresh my memory.' He gave a short laugh. 'You do need to remember, Miss Harrison, this bridge has been a dream of your father's for a very long time. We often used to discuss where it should go.'
Jack put on his frock coat, becoming once again the austere businessman. They walked through the misted grounds of the castle, skirting bits of fallen masonry with the keep rising above them.
'I want to thank you for saving Davy's life,' Emma said.
'I did what any man would have done.'
Emma swallowed hard, but, taking a look at his intent face, decided not to mention that none of the workmen had helped. She bit her lip and concentrated on walking.
'Now you see why the site is a dangerous place...for a woman,' Jack remarked when the office appeared through the mist.
'I always knew it was. I know what the risks are. The outer walls are not safe. If you had read the latest survey...'
'I can read, Miss Harrison.' He turned. His eyes became hard. 'Your father and my partners will have to be informed.'
'I fully intend on informing him. No doubt he will write a letter to Robert Stephenson.'
'This accident should never have happened.' Jack Stanton's voice allowed no compromise.
'On that we can both agree.' Emma swallowed hard and looked at her hands.
'How, precisely, Miss Harrison, does Harrison and Lowe intend to prevent more accidents like this one?'
'By making sure the men are supervised correctly.' She waited as the wind lifted her bonnet slightly. She was on firmer ground. She had practised this conversation several times in her head over the last few weeks. If it hadn't been Jack Stanton, it would have been one of the other partners, she tried to reason. They all had links to Newcastle, reasons to travel up from London.
Jack Stanton could not act alone. The other partners liked and trusted her father's judgement.
In a few weeks' time, if need be, when her father had improved, she would contact Mr Stephenson and request that he intervene with his partner.
Jack remained silent, regarding her with a steady gaze.
She must not borrow trouble. She had to remain calm and resist the temptation to fill the space with noise.
The sleet swirled around them. Jack eventually cleared his throat.
'What is the precise nature of your father's illness? Your whisper was inaudible earlier. When I worked for your father, he disdained taking to his bed for a mere chill.'
'He will recover in a few days.' She stood, her feet planted firmly, chin held high, meeting his eyes. She was not some young girl who had just put her hair up. She was twenty-five and knew how to speak her mind. He would not intimidate her. 'If you had arrived when you were expected, he would have greeted you.'
'You speak in hope more than expectation.'
Emma gritted her teeth. She refused to reveal her fears, or what the doctor had confided. 'As you have not seen my father in seven years, I assure you that I speak with great authority. The timing of your visit is unfortunate.'
'I arrived when I said I would.'
Emma closed her eyes. She refused to start an argument about that as well. 'Your letter never arrived here.'
'A pity.'
'I trust you have seen enough of the site to form your opinion, Mr Stanton?' Emma tilted her chin and stared directly into his coal-black eyes. 'There is no need for us to stand out in the cold. This conversation,
She bit back the words condemning Mudge and the other men. He lifted a quizzical eyebrow and his gaze slowly travelled down her body.
'And how do you propose getting back up the slope? In a dress? Weighed down by petticoats?'
'I shall go around the back of the keep. It is an easy enough walk, but straight down was quicker.' Emma adjusted her bonnet so it sat firmly on her head. The sleet appeared to be coming down heavier than ever. She had lost feeling in her fingers. 'You may join me, if you wish. The keep is stunning close up. It is more than the pile of stones Mudge claims.'
'It will give me an opportunity to refresh my memory.' He gave a short laugh. 'You do need to remember, Miss Harrison, this bridge has been a dream of your father's for a very long time. We often used to discuss where it should go.'
Jack put on his frock coat, becoming once again the austere businessman. They walked through the misted grounds of the castle, skirting bits of fallen masonry with the keep rising above them.
'I want to thank you for saving Davy's life,' Emma said.
'I did what any man would have done.'
Emma swallowed hard, but, taking a look at his intent face, decided not to mention that none of the workmen had helped. She bit her lip and concentrated on walking.
'Now you see why the site is a dangerous place...for a woman,' Jack remarked when the office appeared through the mist.
'I always knew it was. I know what the risks are. The outer walls are not safe. If you had read the latest survey...'
'I can read, Miss Harrison.' He turned. His eyes became hard. 'Your father and my partners will have to be informed.'
'I fully intend on informing him. No doubt he will write a letter to Robert Stephenson.'
'This accident should never have happened.' Jack Stanton's voice allowed no compromise.
'On that we can both agree.' Emma swallowed hard and looked at her hands.
'How, precisely, Miss Harrison, does Harrison and Lowe intend to prevent more accidents like this one?'
'By making sure the men are supervised correctly.' She waited as the wind lifted her bonnet slightly. She was on firmer ground. She had practised this conversation several times in her head over the last few weeks. If it hadn't been Jack Stanton, it would have been one of the other partners, she tried to reason. They all had links to Newcastle, reasons to travel up from London.
Jack Stanton could not act alone. The other partners liked and trusted her father's judgement.
In a few weeks' time, if need be, when her father had improved, she would contact Mr Stephenson and request that he intervene with his partner.
Jack remained silent, regarding her with a steady gaze.
She must not borrow trouble. She had to remain calm and resist the temptation to fill the space with noise.
The sleet swirled around them. Jack eventually cleared his throat.
'What is the precise nature of your father's illness? Your whisper was inaudible earlier. When I worked for your father, he disdained taking to his bed for a mere chill.'
'He will recover in a few days.' She stood, her feet planted firmly, chin held high, meeting his eyes. She was not some young girl who had just put her hair up. She was twenty-five and knew how to speak her mind. He would not intimidate her. 'If you had arrived when you were expected, he would have greeted you.'
'You speak in hope more than expectation.'
Emma gritted her teeth. She refused to reveal her fears, or what the doctor had confided. 'As you have not seen my father in seven years, I assure you that I speak with great authority. The timing of your visit is unfortunate.'
'I arrived when I said I would.'
Emma closed her eyes. She refused to start an argument about that as well. 'Your letter never arrived here.'
'A pity.'
'I trust you have seen enough of the site to form your opinion, Mr Stanton?' Emma tilted her chin and stared directly into his coal-black eyes. 'There is no need for us to stand out in the cold. This conversation,
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