Heir to a Title Chapter 17

Callie knocked and waited before being ushered in. The Master was standing by the window looking over the quadrangle. He turned thoughtfully.

“Now Denton, I am presuming you were the innocent party in this.”

“Definitely sir.”

“Did he actually touch you – you know make a grab at your clothes?”

“He reached towards my trouser waist sir so I seized his wrist and twisted around.”

“Did you think he was going to try and take your trousers down?”

“He had hold of my trouser belt sir and he suggested he was going to expose my underwear. Another boy from my class saw and heard him.”

“Yes, in fact several boys have already confirmed to me that they saw it so there’s no question of his having said what he said and doing what he did.”

Callie breathed a silent sigh of relief; at least her class-mates, particularly Michael, had come through. The master paused thoughtfully as his brow furrowed with concern. Finally he broached the question that had been exercising his mind.

“Now this is a delicate question but I’m afraid I have to ask it. Might Oliver have found anything HE might have deemed untoward?”

Callie hesitated then replied boldly.

“If you mean was I wearing female underwear then yes sir, he would.”

The master nodded. All the staff had been advised of the Denton boy’s dysphoria and they were fully cognoscente of the legal situation. If the boy suffered an unprovoked attack then the attack would be deemed transphobic and the pertinent laws would apply. However, no master wanted to punish a boy who was still only fifteen as Oliver was. He considered another tactic.

“Would you object to my having Oliver in here now?”

“To apologise sir?”

“Well more to explain the severity of his offence but I expect an immediate apology to follow. He’s waiting in my ante-room and he’s missed his lunch. I’ll be perfectly honest, I don’t want to take this further unless I have to, but be assured, if Oliver proves to be intransigent then I will and it follows that the school will.”

Callie nodded. The sooner this was dealt with, the sooner the message would be broadcast throughout the college. She nodded assent. The master then invited Oliver to stand beside Callie in front of his desk. He tapped a few keys on his laptop and turned the screen for Oliver to read it while the master explained.

“Now boy; that is the law concerning transphobic assault and those are the penalties. I have asked around during the lunch hour and there are several boys who have told me what happened. You especially referred to Denton’s gender issues. At first they mostly thought it was funny because they are unaware of the severity of your offence. However, after I explained a few things, they changed their views. Now this is what could happen to you if this goes further, and by that I mean going to court.”

The bully studied the screen and visibly paled. Callie had never actually read the law before and she was pleasantly surprised as she leaned forward to read. After digesting the facts the older boy turned to Callie.

“I didn’t realise, I’m sorry.”

Before Callie could reply, the master weighed in.

“Well I’m glad that you’ve apologised without being prompted. Now; whether you’ve apologised through fear or from genuine remorse matters not to me but be assured, your offence will remain on record. The headmaster is aware of it, but for now it stops here; at my desk!” The master then addressed Callie.

“Now, Denton, d’ you accept the apology?”

Callie was more than prepared to let the matter drop and said so. The master took it one step further.

“I won’t require any ‘kiss-and-make-up’ nonsense. You are old enough to know the situation now and I don’t expect you to become bosom friends but be assured Oliver, it will be a truce! Finally have either of you any questions?”

Callie wagged her head as she replied ‘No sir’;

Oliver had one which he addressed to Callie.

“Does everybody in College house know about your – your-?”

Callie looked the bully directly in the eye as she replied,

“Yes; it’s called gender dysphoria and yes, I explained it during the first library. They accept it and the Pop have assured me they are alert to it.”

Oliver looked suitably chastened and the master closed the session.

“Very well, there is to be no more of this but remember; it’s on record.”

Outside the office, the pair left for their respective divisions without exchanging a word. At supper that night Michael hurried to meet Callie.

“What was the outcome?”

“He’s on notice of legal action if it goes further; and thanks for your acting as witness. That went a long way.”

“Legal action!” Michael almost squeaked with relief. “You mean prison and stuff?”

“I doubt it would come to that, well not in the first instance but Oliver knows he’s on a sort of probation. If he does it again, the school will take it to the courts. They have to show they’re doing something”

“Is that his name, Oliver?”

“Yeah, his full name’s Richard Oliver. He won’t be bothering us anymore, gay or trans.”

Michael thumped Callie affectionately in the arm and the two went to library where all the F year boys gathered to learn of events.

Eventually the Pop approached the boys to determine the cause of the excitement. Callie explained and the house captain nodded.

“I’m sorry there were no Pop there but we can’t be everywhere at once. I’m pleased there was a master there to deal with it. They have more power. So Oliver’s on serious notice, I’m surprised it didn’t go all the way up to the headmaster.”

Callie spoke up.

“It did actually but the head let the master deal with it.”

“Was that Mr Ellis, the one with curly red to greying hair?” The shorter Pop asked.

Callie nodded and the sports captain added.

“Yes, he’s good. He’s head of classics. If he’s on your side you’ve got a good friend.”

Callie felt forced to add.

“I don’t think he was on anybody’s side, he was firm but fair.”

“Exactly! Yes, that’s Ellis,” the sport’s captain finished, “now, bed you lot.”

Callie slept well that night but in the morning she found an inexplicable stain up the front of her knickers. She fretted about it all day until finally she approached the dame when she was taking her underwear to the laundry. The dame of course was aware of such issues.

“You’ve reached puberty young man. Your parents have explained to the house staff about your circumstances so I’ll contact your mother. I presume she’s explained the plan.”

Callie nodded then asked curiously.

“So it was, - you know, - stuff then.”

“Yes young man, it was semen.”

Callie blushed nervously but the dame was fully alert to such things and she smiled reassuringly.

“It’s perfectly normal Callie. It happens to all the boys during the onset of puberty so don’t be afraid or ashamed if you need to relieve the tensions – that is masturbate. You boys will have a hundred different expressions for it but that’s the correct medical term. If you need to talk, then that is the correct term."

The relief was evident as Callie turned to leave and the dame finished.

“I’ll call your mother in the morning and she’ll probably come down next week. It’ll be best if you go to a sperm
bank on a games afternoon then you won’t interrupt your academic work.”

And so it came to pass that Callum Denton, thirteenth duke of Denton preserved his sperm for future posterity.

~~oo000oo~~

A few days before the end of that first Michaelmas term Callie and Michael were leaving the maths block early.

Because they were both excellent maths scholars, they had completed their exam papers early so they had a whole afternoon of free time and they were contemplating a brief visit to a small cafe close to the River Thames to share some tea and cakes.

“This looks like a nice place,” Michael observed as they peered through the window from the street, “it’s got a veranda that overlooks the river.”

“I’d prefer to eat inside,” Callie replied, “that balcony might be nice in summer but it’s November now.”

“There’s that conservatory glass part, we could sit there. It’s sheltered but with a good view of the river.”

Callie agreed and the pair stepped inside. It being a miserable midweek afternoon, the cafe was virtually empty and they ordered their tea and cakes before settling to overlook the river swollen by winter rains.

“In the summer this place would be heaving with tourists but we’ve got it to ourselves. The weir looks angry, must be all the rain we’ve had this week.” Michael observed conversationally.

“Duu-uh,” Callie chuckled, “that’s what rain does darling - fill rivers; - don’t you remember your geography.”
Michael knew that Callie’s seeming sarcasm was meant in jest and he grinned back. “Piss off bitch.”

The word bitch had become a term of endearment between them for they were now firm platonic friends. They
both fell to chuckling softly as they cut into their cake and sat back to study the river in full spate.

“I wouldn’t like to fall in that.” Callie remarked.

“Me neither, but you’re a good swimmer Cal.”

“Don’t think I’d survive long in that, it’s cold as well as powerful. That weir looks deadly”

From the warmth and comfort of their chairs they watched soberly as a large log swung by dipping and bobbing in the rushing current. Callie had never seen the River Thames in spate before and she stood up to go outside on the veranda and get a closer feel of the river’s mood. The sucking, gurgling rush made her shudder and she turned to go inside just as a piercing scream startled her.

A woman was shrieking in horror.

“My baby, she’s fallen in!”

Callie span around and saw the woman prancing in terror on the bank upstream. As she rushed to the rail of the veranda the woman spotted her and screamed desperately.

“She’s there, in the red bonnet!”

Callie looked down and spotted the almost submerged bonnet rushing towards her in the current.

“Shit! What do I do?” She asked herself even as she stepped back out of view to take off her tail coat and waistcoat. Then she kicked off her shoes and was debating if she had time to remove her trousers as the little red blob approached. She decided she had and frantically removed her trousers as the red bonnet was passing underneath the veranda. Just at that moment the bonnet rolled over to reveal the baby’s face. It was definitely the child!

Callie didn’t have time to climb down and reach out into the water so with her shirt billowing like a dress; she jumped off the rail and struck out towards the drowning infant. She reached it and pushed the child upwards so that its face was clear of the water but now she had a serious problem. The river was sweeping her rapidly towards the weir and the thundering cataract of water. To compound the problem, Callie was trying to give the infant ‘mouth-to-mouth’ resuscitation so she couldn’t use both arms as a powerful swimmer. Desperately she looked around and decided her best chance was to swim diagonally with the current and aim for one of the upright posts that held the control gates that maintained the river level in the summer to enable boating and navigation on the river.

Having made her choice, Callie took hold of the infant’s walking harness in her teeth and struck out desperately for the nearest post. Desperation and terror lent strength to her efforts and she finally managed to get herself in line with the weir post as the river rushed her towards it. Frantically she lunged for the post and grunted as her hands found a grip on one of the lugs that ordinarily secured the levelling boards in summer. As her fingers clutched desperately, the river swept her onto the post and the force almost tore her arms from their sockets as she slammed against it. With the infant’s walking harness still clenched in her aching jaws she finally managed to clamber up the fastening lugs like an improvised ladder until she was perched at the top of the post and clear of the terrifying roar of water below.

Now the cold started to get to her as she resumed trying to resuscitate the baby while people on both banks now became alert to the situation. Callie called out in desperation.

“Help! Help!”

A voice from the gathering crowd called back.

“Hold on darling, the fire service has been called!”

‘Darling?’ Callie wondered at the caller’s remark. ‘Why are they calling me darling?’

She tried to get herself comfortable as she shifted her position and tried to hug herself tight around the infant who she knew was equally vulnerable to hypothermia. Now that she was secure, she decided to conserve what heat and strength she possessed and wait for rescue by curling into a tight ball against the weir-post. After what seemed like ages but was in fact only a minute or so, the mother appeared on the opposite bank and asked the obvious question that all the other onlookers had overlooked.

“Is my baby alright!”

Callie felt a surge of self-satisfaction as she was able to shout back one sentence.

“Yes, she’s breathing.”

However, that was all she could say. Cold and exhaustion were beginning to tell and she had not the breath to shout anything else.

Eventually Callie was relieved to hear the raucous two-tone moan of a fire engine as flashing blue lights appeared in the car-park on the bank further upstream. A uniformed fire officer was using binoculars to study the huddled lump attached to the post and concluded it had to be an immediate boat rescue using a powerful inflatable RIB attached to a strong rope on the rescue engine’s winch. He was already issuing instructions to the rescue crew who were launching the RIB and paying out the winch rope to act as an anchor. Callie started crying with relief as she watched the RIB eventually snake its way into mid stream and then slowly pay off the rope as it reversed downstream towards the post. Even so, her arms were numb with cramps and tired muscles as the boat finally fetched up stern first against the foot of the post.

While the boat handler and his mate manoeuvred the boat in the rushing torrent, the third man reached out to Callie.

“Well done love, you’ve been fantastic. Give me the baby!”

Painfully, Callie leaned out and extended her agonised neck to swing the baby –still hanging from her jaws - on its walking harness into the rescuer’s grasp. The baby was quickly placed in a safe place while the rescuer returned to seize Callie. He was only just in time as exhaustion overtook her and she almost fell semi-conscious into his arms. The boat dipped alarmingly as both Callie and rescuer fell into the well while the boat handlers immediately made haste for the shore. Callie recovered as the rescuer unfolded a survival pack.

“Here darling, get that wet blouse off you and wrap yourself in this foil. I’ll see to the baby. You did brilliantly today!”

Only as she recovered her wits, did Callie realise the firemen had also mistaken her for a girl. Her pretty white bra was plainly visible under her saturated shirt and of course her cotton knickers were plainly visible. The error was further compounded when they removed her shirt for it was stained by mud and torn beyond recognition as part of her Eton college uniform. Fortunately, she was well covered both by the reflective foil sheet and an extra blanket when they stretchered her up the bank to the waiting ambulance. There, the paramedics automatically maintained their professional discretion when they realised the ‘girl’ had male genitalia.

However, when the press arrived, the fire officer – who had been too busy recovering the rescue equipment – had not yet been informed of the rescuer’s correct gender and he innocently referred to Callie as ‘an extremely brave young lady’ in his first press meeting. To compound the issue, several videos had been release on You-tube by mobile phone users and there, Callie’s bra and cotton knickers had been vaguely visible under the torn linen shirt as she clung to the post.

As she sat up in her hospital bed the housemaster and head master appeared at its side.

“Your mother is on her way but I must be the first to congratulate you on a very brave thing you did.”

“Thank you sir. Sorry if I caused any fuss.”

“Never mind the fuss young man. The school is well able to deal with any fall-out. I take it that you have seen the videos on Face-book?”

“Yes sir. The ward sister showed it to me. Everybody thought I was a girl.”

“Yes, you’ll have noticed that your underwear, particularly your bra, was clearly visible but don’t be upset by that.Our policy does not change; Eton College is well able to accommodate each pupil’s needs. Now there are two more people here to see you. One you’ll know of course and the second is the toddler’s mother, you’ll be pleased to know that the child is also making a full recovery.”

Callie heard Michael’s voice in the corridor and he grinned as his best friend appeared with an older woman who had brought a large box of chocolates.

“Hi Cal! I’ve got your phone from your coat; everybody’s trying to reach you.”

Callie grinned as she took the proffered phone then she set it on the side table as the mother approached tearfully. The relief and gratitude plain in her eyes.

“Thank you so much, thank you, thank you! I just don’t know what else to say!

“I’m just glad the baby’s okay; she is okay isn’t she?”

“Yes, yes. She’s fine. They’re keeping her in until this evening and they’ve given her a tetanus shot. I’ve just got to keep an eye on her temperature for a few days to check she hasn’t picked up anything else like Weil’s disease. I have to bring her in for a check up next week or if I spot anything.”

“The same goes for you young man,” the head master added, “you’ll be back here next Tuesday for a check up or if you have a temperature.”

At these words the mother looked askance at the headmaster.

“I thought she was a girl!”

“No ma-am. This young hero is one of our youngest and brightest scholars. He had just finished his maths exams and he was enjoying tea in the cafe where you saw him. Ah so it WAS the boy in tails. He stepped back when I shouted and I didn’t see him strip off. I presumed it was a girl in a white dress that jumped off the rail.”

“No it was him; his friend Michael here brought his clothes and phone back.”

“Gosh, he was wearing a bra under that shirt. Everybody saw it.” The mother’s eyes widened slightly.”

“Yes, and cotton knickers,” the housemaster added, “but nevertheless, young Denton is one of our brightest pupils. Boys like him are rare birds.”

The mother turned towards Callie and smiled warmly.

“Whoever you are, I still owe you for Katie’s life. These chocolates are for you, I’m so sorry they’re sort of girly; the chief fire officer said you were a girl and we all thought so. I’ll get you something more appropriate later.”

Callie grinned contentedly as she took the chocolates.

“These are perfect.”

As she opened the box everybody chatted some more until the ward sister arrived to shoo them away.

“Sorry. I’ve got to do some bloods and stuff, so everybody has to leave. Come back in an hour and if everything is okay, he’s free to discharge.”

Callie sagged back against her pillows as the sister and a houseman checked her thoroughly. After confirming there was little damage except for some heavy bruising and strained ligaments to her shoulder, they declared her free to go. At this news, the College House dame entered with a clean school uniform, some shampoo and Callie’s favourite set of lingerie. The ward sister and houseman glanced perplexed as Callie eagerly showered, then blow-dried her shoulder length hair before donning her lingerie. Momentarily, she postured unselfconsciously in the mirror before donning her outer male clothes. The dame explained briefly.

“Callie is transgendered but she’s not yet fully decided how far along the spectrum she is.”

Stuck for the right choice of comment about Callie’s dysphoria the young houseman changed tack.

“Nevertheless, she’s been a very brave individual. That weir is lethal. I saw the Face-book pictures.”

Callie smiled at his use of the female pronoun and thanked him for that as well as the treatment she had received. Outside the hospital, the house dame paused briefly to warn him.

“There’s a reporter outside, you don’t have to say anything. In fact I’d advise you to duck down as we drive out of here.”

Callie took her advice and they reached the college without mishap. There however she was immediately surrounded by her classmates who demanded to know what had happened. Standing aside from the clamour she saw her best friend Michael trying to shrug apologetically.

“I tried to tell them but they want your version.”

Callie wagged her head with dismay as she confessed to the clamouring scrum around her.

“To tell the truth boys, I don’t remember much of the first part in the water, I was too busy swimming. What I remember most was the bloody cold as I perched on the post.”

“Does that mean you’re going to be a wet-bob next summer?” A wag called from the back.

The boys all laughed then more questions quickly followed and the meeting eventually dispersed as the two friends slipped up to Callie’s study. Back in her study, Callie flopped onto her bed while Michael sat looking pensively out of the study window.

“I thought you were done for!” He remarked. “You’re my only true friend and I’d have hated to lose you.”

He turned expectantly for Callie’s reply but there was none. Callie was asleep. Michael was tempted to slide onto the bed beside Callie but his friend had never shown any sign of being sexually attracted and Michael was torn between chancing his luck and letting things lie. He hesitated uncertainly over Callie’s sleeping form then cautiously bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Callie murmured softly and stirred but did not waken. However, Michael lost his nerve and slipped away as he heard footfall on the stairs outside.

~~oo000oo~~

The next morning the deputy housemaster met Callie at the refectory door.

“Well, you’ve made the headlines young Denton. How does it feel to be famous?”

Callie frowned uncertainly as she recalled the video she had seen on Face-book.

“What did they say Sir?”

“Go and look; the papers are in the annexe.”

The master followed Callie into the little reading room and waited in the doorway as Callie slowly grasped the gist of the headlines. The first headline she read left her shocked as it set the tone for the rest; - ‘Transvestite Etonian scholar saves toddler from certain death!’

What was worse than each headline were the pictures that invariably accompanied them. Every picture showed an outline of her bra under the saturated linen shirt.

After angrily scanning the broad-sheets he turned to one of the red-tops only to read an even more offensive headline.

Trantastic rescue on deadly River Thames cataract!

Horrified, she studied the Face-book picture now blown up and, to her eyes, obviously ‘photo-shopped’, to show her bra clearly visible through her wet shirt. She also suspected the image of the shirt had been ‘adjusted’ to make it more resemble a dress but she could not be certain. A tear forced its way to her eye as she turned away and cursed softly.

“Bastards!” Oops! Sorry sir I –“

“I understand Denton, d’you want to be excused breakfast?”

As the dam burst she asked.

“Why sir; why? I mean I rescued a kid and all they’re interested in is trying to ‘out’ me as a transvestite! – Make me out to be some sort of freak!”

“I’m afraid that’s the press Denton. They’re only interested in selling copy. It’s all about money and they’ll throw anybody to the wolves to try and make a buck or two. Anything that they deem to be salacious or some-how sexual, is gold to them. Try not to worry, in a couple of days it will have blown over. Your best tactic is to stay within the college grounds and avoid public spaces.”

“But I have to cross the street every day to go to divisions.”

“I’m sure your classmates will help you get across without being accosted and I’ll arrange with the Pop to provide a bit of muscle if they get too invasive. Be brave Denton, as brave as when you faced the weir.”

Callie found herself drawn back to the news-sheet and gasped as she read further.

“Dammit Sir, they must have searched all night to dig up all this stuff. And they’ve revealed that I’m the future Duke of Denton. As far as I knew, nobody knew about that except the house masters and the head. Now everybody will know.”

The house master wagged his head reassuringly.

“That won’t be an issue Denton. About five percent of the students here are from some sort of nobility. That’s simply a fact of life at Eton.”

“But I didn’t want it known sir. I made it to Eton on the back of a King’s Scholarship, and that means a lot to me. I earned my place!”

The master used a different tack to reassure Callie.

“Well I’m afraid it’s public knowledge now lad. I wouldn’t worry about your reputation with the other boys; the ‘K.S.’ after your name is evidence enough of your scholastic achievement. To my knowledge there are about six or seven heirs to dukedoms in the college not to mention a few foreign princes and a score of earldoms and baronies. You’re in pretty familiar company. I don’t think your reputation amongst the other boys will suffer. After all, you did risk your life and you did successfully rescue a toddler. That flood is dangerous and one of the maids told me that the bank by the weir was crowded with disbelieving ‘rubber-necks’ yesterday evening as people went to look at the scene and wonder at the power of the water. If you had gone over the top, both you and the little girl would have certainly been killed.

Besides proving your courage, all the boys know by now that you’ve got gender dysphoria. If nothing else, your attendance at the school has served to teach all the boys something about transgenderism and even more about tolerance. What you did proves that you are not some sort of effete, effeminate wimp. You can hold your head up Denton and treat the gutter press with the contempt they deserve.”

The master’s kind words served to reassure Callie and strengthened her resolve. She nodded thankfully and dried her tears before returning to the refectory and taking her place at breakfast. As she sat down Michael studied her face.

“Have you been crying?”

Callie nodded as she explained to her best friend. Michael at least, being gay, was acceptive of somebody shedding tears. Callie could trust him and she explained why she had been crying.

“Yeah. Those bastards in the papers were more interested in my gender stuff than the fact that I saved the kid.”

“Huh! Typical!” Michael almost spat the words out. “All they’re interested in is sex, sex, sex!”

Callie fell silent as she started to eat. She had yet to run the gauntlet of the public street when she crossed to attend the morning science school for her last exams before going down for Christmas holidays. As she finally finished what little breakfast she could face she was approached by one of the Pop.

“The dame has her car in the rear yard. We’ll hide you in the boot and drive out down the lane then into Windsor. There we’ll do a ‘car-change’ like bank robbers and Mr Ellis the classics master will bring you back into the college round the back. Come on, chop-chop.”

Shocked and grateful for the support she was being given, Callie hurried after the older boy and the plan proved successful. After completing her final exam, Callie was given leave to go home early and avoid anymore distress. The following morning her mother Ellie appeared at lunch and by nightfall, Callie was home; safe in the bosom of Denton Hall.

“Well I won’t bother asking how school went darling,” Callie’s grandmother grinned, “I’ve read the full report in the paper!”

“Na-an!” Callie groaned. “That was just a single event. There’s a whole semester to chat about, not just the weir thing.”

“It was still a very brave thing to have done darling,” the Duchess persisted.

“Yes and a dangerous thing!” Ellie added. “You would have been killed.”

“Can we stop talking about it, plee-ease?” Callie begged.

Both Molly and Callie exchanged smiles as they started to eat.

”Can I go riding later?” Callie asked. “I’ve got some thinking to do.”

“What about?” His mother Ellie asked.

“Lots of stuff.”

“D’you want me to come?”

Callie hesitated.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, I shall come, then, if you want to think on your own, I’ll drop back?”

Callie nodded uncertainly, “yeah, that might be best.”

Both mother and child cantered up onto the moors then slowed to a walk before stopping at a favourite spot that gave them a panoramic view of a vast swathe of the Yorkshire Dales. As they silently savoured the view, some walkers happened by.

“Morning,” one of the ladies offered as they paused to savour the view.

“Morning,” Ellie replied as both mother and child smiled politely.

“Best view in Yorkshire.” The self appointed spokeswoman added.

“Best view in England.” Callie finished.

“Aye. Pity they want to spoil it.” Another male walker observed.

“How so?” Ellie asked.

“They say the new owners want to plant conifers.”

“New owners?” Ellie wondered aloud.

“Aye, since the old duke passed they say there’s likely to be some sort of issue about inheritance. T’is said the heir to the title is unlikely to inherit because he’s likely going to change sex. They say the next nearest male heir lives over Allerton way and he’s after converting all this to commercial forestry.”

“Good gracious!” Ellie expostulated as she turned knowingly to Callie. “Is that true darling?”

Callie, being a sharp witted girl, quickly caught on to her mother’s question.

“Not that I know of mummy. I’ve always loved this view. Grandpa always said we hold these lands in trust for future generations.”

A deafening silence descended on the walkers as they slowly realised the significance of the younger female rider’s words.

“The earlier spokeswoman turned to the man.”

“Oh my God Harry, d’you realise who this is?”

The man’s jaw sagged slightly as the truth dawned. Then he tried to apologise.

“Oh gosh! I’m sorry ladies. Are you the –?”

“The Denton family,” Ellie replied softly as she nodded. ”Yes I’m afraid we are, and this is my child, the future duke.”

The man’s face frowned with uncertainty as he studied the obviously feminine younger rider.

“So it’s not true then?”

“What?”

“The stories about the inheritance.”

“Not to my knowledge sir!” Ellie replied edgily. “According to the Herald of arms, as long as my child lives, she retains the estate – and the title.”

“So the view will remain?” Another walker confirmed as if to reassure the whole group.”

“As long as our family holds the estate. Oh, and we have the backing of English Nature and the National Trust. Besides, this view is part of an S.S.I. The whole of this part of our estate is a site of scientific interest.”
At this revelation the group’s Ears pricked up.

“Oh. Why is it an SSI?” The man asked.

“The wild-life is protected.” Callie replied whilst giving nothing much away about the pine martens.

“Wild-life?”

“Yes, there are some rare vertebrates hereabouts.”

Ellie added to throw the man off the scent but he was not to be deterred.

“I’ve heard there might be some martens as well.”

“It’s been rumoured, though I’ve never seen any.” Ellie lied. “If you see any, let English nature know.”

“So you’re not a friend of the conifer plantations?” Another walker pressed.

“They have their place,” Ellie replied, “but not up here; not on these dales. The original ones were planted during the war years but we don't plant them now. Not on the Denton estate.”

Callie sensed a mood of relief settle over the walkers and realised they were on the same side as her family. To reinforce the mood she started to dismount.

“It’s lovely up here mummy, shall we eat our butties? The view is just fabulous.”

They turned the horses loose and settled on the favoured flat rock as the walkers took their cue and decided likewise. Within minutes the walkers were enthusiastically waxing lyrical about the Yorkshire Dales.

“Eeeh ladies, you’re so-oo lucky to have a slice o’ this country.”

“Not that lucky,” Ellie replied. “There’s a constant battle to defend the land against exploitative interests.”

“Such as?” One of the ladies pressed.

“Quarry owners wanting lime-stone, water authorities after building more dams, forestry companies looking to plant more commercial woodland and so on.”

“Are you tempted?”

“What? To sell out you mean?”

“Yes.”

“Our ambition is to keep the estate intact even if we are forced to change the land use.”
“Can’t say as I approve of the quarryin’”

Ellie shrugged as she explained.''

“Sometimes it’ improves the rock-climbing facilities after the quarrying’s finished. It’s an ill wind.”

And so the group chatted at length until it became obvious that the light was fading.

“Well, we’d best be getting down off the hill.” The spokeswoman declared.

Ellie nodded and whistled up their horses. They strolled over and the pair mounted easily as the walkers watched. As Ellie and Callie cantered off the older man remarked to no one in particular.

“Nice people them.”

~~oo000oo~~