Melinda Hammond by Highclough Lady Page B

a mill here would keep every weaver in the area busy.'
     'Arkwright's mills use cotton, I believe.'
     'Yes, but there are many practices that would work as well for wool, or worsted. That's what Marsden is to determine.' He leaned forward, warming to his theme. 'At the present time the farmers can only sell their fleeces to the staplers who sort the wool and sell on the yarn for spinning. My plan is to set up our own mill here in the valley, where we can purchase the wool direct, giving the farmers a better price. Once it is spun, the yarn can be put back out to the cottagers for weaving. By keeping the industry local I believe we can improve everyone's lot.'
     Mr Wetherby looked sceptical.
     'But what do you know about spinning, Bannerman? What in fact do you know about wool?'
     Rafe Bannerman grinned. 'Very little, but I have every faith in Marsden. He is the son of a local weaver, so he knows the trade. We've the best wool in the country here, Wetherby, and you know it. Long-staple wool, perfect for worsteds. I want to make the most of that, and if I can improve the lot of my tenants and the small-holders on the hills, so much the better. Besides, these new methods are coming, whether we like 'em or not, and if we don't move now the work will go to Halifax and Bradford and our local people will suffer.'
     Mr Wetherby shook his head.
     'Bannerman, I don't hold with these new ideas, breaking up the old order. It does no good, only look at the trouble it's caused in France.'
     'But surely, Mr Wetherby, that was precisely because they would not change from the older order,' put in Verity. She found all eyes turned upon her and coloured. 'That is, there was no attempt in France to improve the lot of the poor. I believe everyone is entitled to earn a living.'
     'Well done, Miss Shore,' murmured Mr Bannerman, his eyes glinting.
     'By Gad, Miss, you are very young to be expressing yourself so!' declared Mr Wetherby, eyeing her uncertainly.
     Miss Wetherby began to fidget.
     'Well I for one find the subject most tedious. Mr Bannerman, pray take me back to the ballroom, for I am sure it is time for the dancing to begin again.'
     Taking the hint, Miss Shore rose smoothly to her feet.
     'I believe you are right, Miss Wetherby. I can see my Cousin looking for me, so I shall take my leave of you.'
     She sketched a slight curtsy to the party and made her way across to Mrs Worsthorne, who was preparing to leave the room with Lady Winter.
     'My love, I have been watching you all through supper! How animated you all looked. How do you like Miss Wetherby, would it not be wonderful if you two were to become close friends?'
     Wonderful indeed, Megs. I fear she is too well bred for my taste.'
     'I do not understand you.'
     Verity's green eyes sparkled with anger. 'The lady is too full of her own importance. I do not think she felt at ease conversing with a mere governess! In fact, I wanted nothing better than to shock her out of her complaisance.' Her lips twitched. 'Fortunately Mr Bannerman was on hand to remind me of my manners.'
     'Rafe playing propriety, I cannot believe it!' Lady Winter clapped her hands. 'Oh bravo, Verity. I made sure you would not like her – and my poor brother, is he besotted then?'
     Verity spread her hands.
     'He may well be. Miss Wetherby and her mama paid him every attention, and agreed with every word he uttered.'
     Lady Winter gave a little crow of laughter.
     'Poor Rafe, he will be bored to death. Come, let us go back to the ballroom and watch the rest of this merry farce!'
    * * *
     'Well, Miss Shore, are you enjoying yourself?'
    Verity looked round to find her host standing beside her.
     'Very much so, Mr Bannerman. My experience of parties is limited, but this is so lively, everyone in such good spirits – you are to be congratulated, sir.'
     'For what? I have done very little, merely brought in the musicians and laid on good food and wine. Where is the skill in that?'
     'I cannot