Page 2

Chapter Two

C olin hadn’t realized he was moving until he heard Tommy breathing heavily next to him as he ran close beside him.

“What did you do ?” Tommy asked, looking at him in shock.

“It was an accident!” Colin protested.

“A costly accident. I thought you wanted to play for this team.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Colin panted. “She has to be. It was just a soft kick.”

“To you, maybe. You grew up in a neighborhood where being able to protect yourself was a badge of honor.”

“I’ve never actually been gravely injured.”

“Close enough.”

They had just about reached the women, and Colin saw, to his great relief, that the young lady he had hit was already starting to sit up, even though the other two women were still fawning over her in great concern.

“Miss? Are you well?” he asked as he approached them, but no one responded.

For another voice joined the conversation.

Not much caused Colin fear any longer.

But this man, with this tone, very well could, for he held his fate in his hands.

“Colin Thornton! What have you done to my daughter?”

Colin turned slowly to find Viscount Harcourt standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest, a disapproving frown beneath his black mustache on his stoic, hard-lined face.

“Lord Harcourt,” Colin said, his breath still coming in pants. “My apologies. The ball was high.”

“You are here for your worth on the team to be judged, and I am not interested in a player who cannot keep the ball in play.”

“No, sir. My lord. That is, I?—”

“Best stop now,” Tommy murmured.

“Are you all right, darling?” The elegantly dressed woman, whom Colin assumed to be the young lady’s mother, appeared distraught over the girl, who in turn took her friend’s arm to stand, one hand on her head.

“Fine,” Lily said, rubbing her forehead. “It took me by surprise, that is all.”

“I am so sorry,” Colin said, risking Lord Harcourt’s patience as he stepped toward the young woman. “It was my fault. I kicked it too far, and it hit you, Miss?—”

“Miss Evans,” came Lord Harcourt’s voice from behind him. “My daughter.”

“Miss Evans,” he said, attempting patience while apologizing to this noblewoman. However, he did have some sympathy, for it was unlikely she had ever faced pain in her life. “Forgive me?”

As he said the words, she turned away from her mother and toward him, her eyes meeting his, and he suddenly forgot about everything else.

He forgot about Tommy beside him and the team that he desperately wanted to play for.

He forgot about the scrimmage and the need to beat the Athletics the following weekend.

He even forgot about the team’s new sponsor, Lord Harcourt, and that the man who held his fate was the father of the woman standing before him.

At that moment, all he could see was the young woman herself.

Her light blue eyes reminded him of the sky on a cloudless day, when the conditions were perfect for a football match. Her hair was pulled away from her face, but a few curls bounced around her cheeks, likely after his ball had unsettled her perfect topknot.

Her cheeks were smooth, her cheekbones high, and her eyes had a gleam that he wanted to learn more about.

“You are forgiven,” she said, her voice clear, soft as velvet, soothing his agitated soul.

Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to hear her speak again.

“You are certain you are well?”

“I am.”

“I believe that her mother and I can determine that quite sufficiently without you, Mr. Thornton. Now, return to the pitch, and I will see to my family. You and I will have a further discussion in due time. Do you understand me?”

Colin nodded to Lord Harcourt, though he could not tear himself away until Tommy’s hand circled his shoulder, and he physically pulled him backward.

He knew what Lord Harcourt was saying without actually putting it into words – that he needed to stay far away from Miss Evans, that it wasn’t his place to look at her, to speak to her, to have anything to do with her.

But those words were lying dormant, for all he could think about was that he very much wanted to see her again.

“Well, well, well,” Tommy said as they walked up the slight incline back toward practice, “the untouchable Colin Thornton has found himself in some trouble.”

Colin swatted away Tommy’s hand, which still rested atop his shoulder. “I am not in trouble, Tommy.”

“Are you not?” Tommy said, lifting a brow, his eyes crinkling, the dimple in his cheek deepening with his grin. “You struck our new sponsor’s daughter in the head. If you don’t watch it, you can say goodbye to your position and the payment you’re counting on to play football.”

“Tommy, you know you must keep your mouth shut about that,” Colin muttered.

“Of course I will,” Tommy said indignantly. “You and I are two of the very few on this team that might actually get paid to be here, even though none of us are supposed to be.”

“I know it is illegal, but it is worth it. I cannot get on the bad side of Lord Harcourt. If I don’t have this money, I must spend more time working another job.”

“You already work all day in Harcourt’s mill.”

“I do. And still, it’s not enough to take care of everyone who relies on me.”

“I think it’s about time people in your life start making their own way forward.”

“It’s not that easy,” Colin mumbled.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Tommy said with a shrug, but their conversation was cut short when the captain, Rhys Lockwood, caught them still on the sidelines and called out to them.

“Ladies! You are not here to gossip! Get your asses back onto the field.”

“Rude,” Colin said, only loud enough for Tommy to hear.

“Very much so,” Tommy agreed. “I know many ladies who work far harder than men. You should see my sister. In fact, you could see my sister if you ever agreed to go out with her.”

“I’m not going out with your sister, Tommy!” Colin said before launching off to retake the field.

“Why not?”

“Because she looks just like you!”

As Tommy’s cry of indignation followed him onto the field, Colin couldn’t help his laughter.

It wasn’t just the sport that he loved.

It was the men. The camaraderie. The fact that he could provide for those who needed him because of it.

He would never do anything to risk him having to give it up.

Not even a beautiful young lady with eyes the colour of the sky.

“Thornton!”

They had just finished practicing and were filing off the field, most of them headed home for the evening not far from the mill.

Salford was home to factories, workshops, and textile mills like the one Lord Harcourt owned and Colin worked at.

Those who worked in the factories lived in terraced housing, small back-to-back cottages, or the lucky ones, in modest homes with a few bedrooms.

Colin whirled around to find the tall, imposing figure of Lord Harcourt standing against the iron fence that separated these lands from those of other owners.

Colin groaned inwardly. He knew he had an impending conversation with the viscount; he had just hoped that it wouldn’t be today after he had injured the man’s daughter.

Rhys nodded at Colin, the most support the surly captain would give, and as he headed over to see Lord Harcourt at the fence.

Colin could only hope that the viscount would consider his performance for more than the one incident.

Lord Harcourt was only one committee member, but from what Colin knew, he was now the team’s main sponsor, so his opinions held a lot of weight.

“A word,” Lord Harcourt said, pushing away from the fence. “Follow me.”

Colin bristled at the summons. He hated that this man could command him without a hint of manners, yet he knew he didn’t have much choice. Not if he wanted this position, as he desperately did.

Wiping his face on his shirt, he followed Lord Harcourt around a few mud puddles toward the mill buildings.

They circled the weaving shed and boiler house, past the main mill building where Colin spent most of his time, and onto the small office building on the part of the property closest to the river.

He then followed Lord Harcourt up the stairs to the top floor of the brick building, waiting as the viscount unlocked a door and led him into an office that Colin recognized as the factory manager’s.

Turning on the gas, he lit the room as the grey skies darkened outside the small windows, which showed the yard beyond.

On the other side, large windows looked out over the factory floor, where the machinery still operated even at the lateness of the hour.

The hum reverberated through the office while the scent of textiles filtered in.

Lord Harcourt gestured to a wooden chair before his large mahogany desk, sitting in the slightly more comfortable chair on the other side, in front of shelves filled with ledgers and papers, while a large map of the property was draped behind Colin.

“Lord Harcourt, I must apologize again?—”

Lord Harcourt held up his hand.

“Not the best start for you, Thornton, but that is not why we are here. Sit.”

Colin nodded and did as he was told, despite everything within him that fought it.

“You were asked to practice with the team after the committee heard you were a talented footballer without a club. The recommendation from Tommy Ward helped you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He and Tommy had grown up together, and as much as Tommy could exhaust him, he had never been more thankful for his friendship than he was right now.

“You have played with other teams?”

“I spent some time with Sheffield,” Colin said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why did you part ways?”

“Family matters brought me back to Manchester.”

“I see. Well, lucky for us, because as it happens, I was impressed with what I saw today.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“You work in my mill?”

“I do,” Colin said, pointing toward the interior window. “On the factory floor.”

“Not easy work.”

“No, it isn’t,” he agreed. That was an understatement.

Millwork was exhausting and dangerous. Colin worked as a machine operator, ensuring everything ran smoothly and intervening if a machine went awry.

Every day, he risked getting caught in the many moving parts within the building that was overcrowded, dusty, and hot, while the noise of the machines had likely already caused him to lose some of his hearing.

Worst of all, women and children worked in these conditions – a fate that he would never allow his own family.

“You could play for many different teams and have the opportunity to make money doing so,” Lord Harcourt said, and Colin nodded slowly.

It wasn’t legal but was becoming more common as players had more choice.

“I can see an opportunity here for you,” Lord Harcourt continued.

“You could move up to the position of a foreman in the mill. The work would be easier, though you would have more responsibility. Your pay would increase, your work in the mill coordinating with your work on the field, if you understand me?”

He did. It was common for football clubs to pay their players in hidden ways, such as with wages for another job.

“You would have leave to practice or travel to matches when the team needs you, so your hours wouldn’t be nearly as long. How does that sound to you?”

“It leaves no room for complaining,” Colin replied sincerely.

“Very well. It’s done, then,” Lord Harcourt said. “My offer is a pound a week plus a pound per match. And if you help us win the FA Cup, I’ll double it. Does that work for you?”

Colin swallowed hard. His family was currently surviving on a pound every two weeks between his wages and the small amount his sister earned teaching.

“That would work for me,” he said, trying not to show how much it would mean. And winning the Football Association Cup? It had been his goal since the tournament was introduced two years ago. He would give anything to play in it, let alone win it.

“Very good,” Lord Harcourt said, standing in obvious dismissal.

As Colin turned to go, the viscount called out to him one more time.

“Thornton?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever do anything to cause harm to my daughter again, you will be gone from here much quicker than you ever came, do you understand me?”

“Very much so,” he agreed.

As he left, he let out a sigh. While he did not think he would ever honestly spend time with the lovely Miss Evans, he would have liked to have seen her again.

But no woman would ever be worth giving up such an opportunity to provide for his family.

Not even a woman like her.