A Place Called Freedom Read Online Free PDF Page A

laughter at the thought.
    Lizzie said: “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    “If one day you do, I guarantee that you’ll never again call us lucky.”
    “I’ve heard enough of your insolence,” she said. “You should be flogged.”
    “I probably will be,” he said, but he did not believe it: no miner had been flogged here in his lifetime, though his father had seen it.
    Her chest was heaving. He had to make an effort not to look at her bosom. She said: “You’ve an answer for everything, you always had.”
    “Aye, but you’ve never listened to any of them.”
    He felt an elbow dig painfully into his side: it was Esther, telling him to watch his step, reminding him that it never paid to outsmart the gentry. She said: “We’ll think about what you’ve told us, Miss Hallim, and thank you for your advice.”
    Lizzie nodded condescendingly. “You’re Esther, aren’t you?”
    “Aye, miss.”
    She turned to Mack. “You should listen to your sister, she’s got more sense than you.”
    “That’s the first true thing you’ve said to me today.”
    Esther hissed: “Mack— shut your gob.”
    Lizzie grinned, and suddenly all her arrogance vanished. The smile lit up her face and she seemed another person, friendly and gay. “I haven’t heard that phrase for a long time,” she said, laughing. Mack could not help laughing with her.
    She turned away, still chuckling.
    Mack watched her walk back to the church porch and join the Jamissons, who were just emerging. “My God,” he said, shaking his head. “What a woman.”

4
    J AY WAS ANGERED BY THE ROW IN THE CHURCH . I T INFURIATED him to see people getting above their station. It was God’s will and the law of the land that Malachi McAsh should spend his life hewing coal underground and Jay Jamisson should live a higher existence. To complain about the natural order was wicked. And McAsh had an infuriating way of speaking as if he were the equal of anyone, no matter how highborn.
    In the colonies, now, a slave was a slave, and no nonsense about working a year and a day or being paid wages. That was the way to do things, in Jay’s opinion. People would not work unless compelled to, and compulsion might as well be merciless—it was more efficient.
    As he left the church some of the crofters offered congratulations on his twenty-first birthday, but not one of the miners spoke to him. They stood in a crowd to one side of the graveyard, arguing among themselves in low, angry voices. Jay was outraged by the blight they had cast on his celebratory day.
    He hurried through the snow to where a groom held the horses. Robert was already there, but Lizzie was not. Jay looked around for her. He had been looking forward to riding home with Lizzie. “Where’s Miss Elizabeth?” he said to the groom.
    “Over by the porch, Mr. Jay.”
    Jay saw her talking animatedly to the pastor.
    Robert tapped Jay on the chest with an aggressive finger. “Listen here, Jay—you leave Elizabeth Hallim alone, do you understand?”
    Robert’s face was set in belligerent lines. It was dangerous to cross him in this mood. But anger and disappointment gave Jay courage. “What the devil are you talking about?” he said.
    “You’re not going to marry her, I am.”
    “I don’t want to marry her.”
    “Then don’t flirt with her.”
    Jay knew that Lizzie had found him attractive, and he had enjoyed bantering with her, but he had no thought of capturing her heart. When he was fourteen and she thirteen he had thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world, and it had broken his heart that she was not interested in him (or, indeed, any other boy)—but that was a long time ago. Father’s plan was for Robert to marry Lizzie, and neither Jay nor anyone else in the family would oppose the wishes of Sir George. So Jay was surprised Robert had been upset enough to complain. It showed he was insecure—and Robert, like his father, was not often unsure of himself.
    Jay enjoyed the rare pleasure of