Authors: Lizzie Church
‘I have been telling Mrs Abdale about our riding plans,’ said Edward, as soon as the young ladies reappeared. ‘She only remains to be reassured that you will not come to any harm and then there will be no difficulty at all in obtaining her permission for the scheme.’
‘Indeed, mama, I am almost persuaded to it myself. After all, there can be little harm in a gentle ride about the park, and it is quite the fashion to be seen on the back of a horse.’
Mrs Abdale smiled graciously upon her daughter.
‘It is not for me to spoil your pleasure, my dear. I was a little inclined to enjoy the exercise myself as a girl. I just want to be convinced of your safety. It is my duty as your mother, you know.’
‘As for that, ma’am – I may vouch for Miss Abdale’s safety. We have mounts enough suitable for a lady at Grantham. Indeed, I have just the mare in mind – or Mr Abdale may choose whichever are suitable from amongst his cattle here – whichever you prefer.’
‘I shall leave it entirely in your hands, Captain Churchman. I know nothing of such matters myself, though I feel persuaded that Mr Abdale’s stables possess a pony quite as gentle as yours. If Julia is to ride, however, she must be properly taken care of – though I am sure Mr Churchman will do that. She is a little delicate, Mr Churchman, and must not become chilled, or over heated.’
‘You may trust us implicitly, Mrs Abdale,’ responded Edward, as his brother remained silent. ‘And Miss Barrington, too – she will be equally safe, I assure you.’
Mrs Abdale gave a look which implied that she had no concern for Lydia’s safety whatsoever.
‘And you will not permit the pony to go beyond a walk?’ she pressed.
‘I will vouch for it. Miss Abdale shall not be allowed to attempt anything beyond her capacity.’
‘Indeed, mama, I hope I have more sense than to try anything dangerous. You know how little I like adventure and I shall take very good care of myself.’
‘I do not doubt it, my dear. I am sure I can trust you implicitly. And you really think you would enjoy the exercise? Very well, then – I agree to the plan. I shall acquaint Mr Abdale of it directly he returns.’
Lydia could scarcely believe her luck. Far from expecting her aunt to allow her to join in the scheme she had braced herself for a brusque rebuff and a reminder of her dependent situation at Abdale House. But neither at that time, nor subsequently, did Mrs Abdale mention it to her. So it was with a growing sense of excitement, if not absolute bafflement, that she set about converting her
now-redundant half mourning
gown for use as a riding habit.
Mr Churchman had said nothing about joining in but he appeared with his brother on the day appointed for the first lesson. Julia grimaced as she detected them riding together up the drive.
‘What did I tell you?’ she whispered. ‘Henry cannot abide Edward being alone with me – even when you are here to keep us company. He is such a disagreeable man that I wouldn’t be surprised if he has come on purpose simply to get in the way. I doubt I shall even mount a horse whilst he is around. He takes on such superior airs that it makes me nervous simply to look at him.’
Lydia was not convinced. For a start, such arrogance as Julia seemed to think he had was only guaranteed to make her even more than usually determined to acquit herself well. But she also felt certain, from the way he had spoken to her the other day (the circumstances of which still made her blush and chuckle alternately as she thought of them) that there was more to Mr Churchman than her cousin had detected. She was curious to find out more and was quite pleased to have the opportunity to get to know him better.
And certainly neither Lydia nor Julia could fault either his manners or his bearing that day except, perhaps, fo
r a
lack of his brother’s
open humour. Lydia was conscious that she was in particularly good looks that day. Despite its age and somewhat dowdy colour her newly designed habit was well fitting, and showed her figure off to perfection, whilst her tiny, dark green hat, with one ostrich feather curled gently round the brim, enhanced the effect of her dark curls, eyes and lashes. Certainly she received some admiring looks from both of the brothers as she was assisted onto her horse. The cold, fresh air and exercise quickly brought a bloom to her cheek and she was soon thoroughly enjoying the lesson.
‘What you need to do is to try to gain the upper hand, Miss Barrington,’ instructed Mr Churchman, having allocated his brother to the less assured and noticeably nervous Julia. ‘Horses have a will of their own, which it is up to their rider to break. The best way is to be firm but gentle with your pony – if you are too rough with her you will ruin the animal, but she will soon detect it if you are nervous – you will transmit any lack of confidence in an instant … yes, that’s it … I think you’ve got the idea. A little more firmness with the rein – aye, you have it indeed.’
Lydia flushed with pleasure.
‘I admire your patience, Mr Churchman. Instructing a novice can provide little enough sport for you.’
‘You do yourself an injustice, Miss Barrington. I’m quite enjoying myself, actually. I’m afraid that it is my brother who has drawn the short straw.’
‘My cousin was always more timid than I, although we are virtually of an age. As a child I was forever getting into trouble for some prank or other. I did not mean to do it, but somehow I was always the one to get caught doing what I should not. Luckily I didn’t come to Abdale very often – I don’t think that Julia would have survived the experience for long! I’m afraid she has not yet had the opportunity to prove herself.’
‘It sounds like you were something of a tearaway.’
‘I suppose I was,’ she acceded, honestly, ‘though not all the time, I hope. And poor Julia was always too much under her mama’s supervision to have much chance of going astray.’
‘You will probably do her the world of good then, Miss Barrington. On the evidence I have seen so far I have no doubt that you will lead her into scrapes!’
The pony suddenly taking it into her head to veer sharply to the right, having perceived a particularly succulent patch of grass a little ahead, Lydia was prevented from replying straight away by the necessity of regaining control. Her effort was a little over-enthusiastic and she immediately sent her pony stumbling to the left. It took another few seconds before she was able to feel comfortable again. She glanced back, to find her companion laughing.
‘A shame on you, Mr Churchman,’ she called, trying to prevent herself from chuckling as well. ‘You make a fine teacher to allow your pupil so perilous a manoeuvre so early in her studies. You need not talk of me leading folk into scrapes. I would have hoped that you would treat me better than to leave me to fend for myself.’
‘You will learn much more quickly by correcting yourself.’
‘I should not learn much by being thrown to the ground!’
‘On the contrary, Miss Barrington, I think you would learn a good deal. For one, you should find it extremely painful to be thrown to the ground; for another, you should find that you do not wish to do it again; and for a third – you should find how very concerned I would be to make sure that you had not damaged yourself in any way.’
‘As for that, sir, I have already experienced your concern. I should rather escape the need for it again.’
Mr Churchman inclined his head.
‘I can accept that,’ he acknowledged. ‘And I must admit that I would be glad to avoid a re-run, too. Whilst I do not begrudge it, I regret to say that my coat is unlikely ever to recover its former glory. I had far rather maintain a suitable distance from the mud of your uncle’s park than to carry it back to Grantham with me.’
‘I’m sorry about that. I hope it hasn’t suffered irreparable damage? I can assure you that I very much appreciated its service at the time – I think I should have caught my death of cold without it. But I must say that I have learned my lesson and vow never to tumble down hillsides again.’
‘Then I am satisfied. But you must take greater care if you wish to avoid tumbling to the ground again.’
‘I am all attention, Mr Churchman. Is my progress today all that it should be?’
‘I must admit that you are doing extremely well for a beginner. You seem to have a natural aptitude. Certainly you are not at all afraid, and that helps a great deal.’
Lydia was satisfied and successfully transferred from walk to trot, with Mr Churchman holding the rein and running along by her side.
Poor Julia was not faring quite so well. Edward had persuaded her to take to the saddle before she was ready and she found that she was frightened on the back of even the steadiest old mare in the stables. Her nervousness transferred itself to the pony, leading to an out of character recalcitrance on its part which almost drove Edward to despair.
‘No, no Miss Abdale,’ he repeated for perhaps the eighth time that morning. ‘You have altered your hold on the reins again. Pray – allow me to assist you … you hold them lightly – so … and control the pony with a firmer touch, so…’
He grinned as he looked up at her worried face and took the opportunity to take her hand in his for a second longer than was strictly necessary, as he corrected her posture again.
‘My poor dear,’ he soothed. ‘Is it such a serious matter? Pray, do not turn those eyes on me so reproachfully or I shall think myself a terrific brute for worrying you so much.’
Julia’s frown transformed into a smile which lit up her face. Just at that moment Mr Churchman returned from helping Lydia to dismount and announced, somewhat curtly, that the instruction was over for the day.
‘We mustn’t overdo it,’ he said, giving his brother a black look and assisting Julia from the horse himself. ‘Mrs Abdale would never forgive us if the ladies became over-tired.’
‘But we’ve hardly started, Henry,’ protested Edward, claiming Julia’s support. ‘We need another half hour together, at the very least, before calling it a day.’
But Julia had had enough of horses for one week and Lydia was still glowing from the praise she had received to give him any further encouragement. So he gave up the unequal battle with a good-humoured shrug and contented himself with arranging another lesson for a few days’ time. This agreed, the gentlemen left the ponies with the groom and returned to Grantham on their own.
Mrs Abdale was sitting in the morning room, languidly engaged upon some plain sewing, when Lydia and Julia finally reappeared after changing their gowns. The sewing was immediately consigned to Lydia before Mrs Abdale shot her daughter a piercing glance which the unfortunate Julia felt quite unable to return.
‘Tell me, Julia,’ she began, jabbing a finger at her pointedly. ‘How are you progressing with Mr Churchman’s suit?’
Julia stammered and blushed unhappily.
‘Indeed, mama, I don’t know what you mean,’ she said.
‘Come, come, child. There is no need to try that miss-ish nonsense with me. You know as well as I do that Henry Churchman has been dangling after you this six months and more. Any girl with two ha’pence of sense would be planning her wedding by now.’
Julia assumed her eager-puppy expression, which cut no ice with her mama.
‘La, mama, I do not know that Mr Churchman admires me any more than any other young lady of his acquaintance. He certainly shows me no more attention than you could expect of a near neighbour.’
‘No more attention? Stupid girl. Have you not been to dine with him, and does he not come over with that brother of his to teach you how to ride? If that is not a sign of his regard for you then I don’t know what is. Henry Churchman is as ready to marry you as the next man, Julia, of that I am persuaded. It is only for you to give him a little more encouragement, that’s all.’
The cousins exchanged glances. Julia was the picture of discomfort. Lydia was considerably entertained.
‘I will not be made to look a fool in the neighbourhood, Julia. It is expected, you know, wherever I go. Why, only last week Mrs Wright asked me about you. It is most embarrassing to be obliged to deny any attachment between you.’
‘But I am not yet twenty, mama. I don’t feel ready to marry just yet. Mr Churchman is an elegant, gentleman-like young man, of course, but I cannot say that I wish to marry him.’
‘Nonsense, child – what more could you want than Grantham Hall and all the other estates he owns, not to mention an income of
six
thousand
a year? You and Henry Churchman would suit each other well enough, I am persuaded of it, and I would thank you, Julia, to take a little more notice of my wishes for a change. You can be quite stubborn at times, you know – just like your father. But there – at least I know where my duty lies. I shall not give him up without a struggle, and if you will not make the effort then I suppose I shall have to do it for you. I have invited the family to dinner here on Saturday, even though my poor nerves can hardly take the strain. I shall be watching to make sure you make the most of the opportunity, Julia – and I shall be most displeased should I find you letting me down...’
It was at about this time that Ly
dia received a letter from her a
unt Bridger in Netley. Mrs Abdale handed it to her with a muttered complaint about the expense – ‘for why Mr Abdale should be expected to pay for your correspondence I really do not know’ – as Lydia was about to leave the dining room after breakfast. She took it to the library to read, as a place where she could reasonably expect to be left well alone, none of the Abdales being much inclined towards reading. From what she could make out it appeared that Susan had settled into life at the vicarage and seemed happy enough, but what with the idiosyncratic handwriting and spelling and the eager crossing of Aunt Bridger it was difficult to decipher many of the words at all. What she could make out was a warm invitation to Lydia herself to visit them whenever she could be spared.