By this time they had reached the house, where a welcome awaited them in the form of the angry face of Mrs Abdale.
‘Lydia,’ she thundered as soon as the girls appeared. ‘Where have you been? What can you mean by taking dear Julia out on such an awful day as this?’
Lydia was a little nonplussed.
‘Sullen girl! Did I not make myself clear to you yesterday? You are not to behave in this way with me. How dare you risk my poor darling’s health by taking her out on such a cold day, wandering about the park without so much as a word to me? I am a bundle of nerves with the worry for her – why, I had almost come out in search of you myself.’
‘I’m sorry, aunt. I had not realised that you would be so upset.’
‘You had not realised. That is just your trouble, Lydia. You do not think before you act.’
‘Lord, mama, though it was quite cold at first we have both been well wrapped up and we enjoyed our walk (though it was a little far). I …’
Mrs Abdale was not to be placated.
‘That is not the point at all, child. Lydia here must learn that she is not her own mistress any more. If she wishes to go out with you she must check with me first to see if she can be spared. She is not come to Abdale merely to enjoy herself – there are plenty of little jobs about the house which I shall rely on her to do.’
Lydia could feel her hackles rise and did her best to escape upstairs.
‘I can only apologise again,’ she said. ‘I shall be at your disposal directly, aunt. For the moment, however, out of concern for everyone’s health – not least my own – I beg leave to quit this draughty hall and change my clothes instead.’
With that, both she and Julia escaped hurriedly upstairs.
Chapter 3It was not many days before Lydia was able to form her own opinion of the favoured Captain Churchman. She was sitting with her cousin in the morning room, wrestling with some of the more intricate stitches in Mrs Abdale’s embroidery while that lady rested an aching head in her boudoir, when an exclamation from Julia, seated by the window, caused her to look up with interest at a horseman on the drive. From the glowing look on her cousin’s face Lydia had no need to be informed of the identity of the visitor who, having been notified by the servant that the young ladies were alone in the morning room, immediately appeared, smiling, in the doorway.
‘May I beg the privilege of disturbing you, Miss Abdale?’
Lydia regarded him with some curiosity. Tall, of athletic build and with good looks made striking by a tanned face under almost white-blond hair, she instantly understood how it was that Julia’s affections had become engaged. And indeed, she found him not displeasing herself. He carried off his disability with panache, striding confidently into the room and bowing low over Julia’s outstretched hand.
Mr Churchman then turned towards Lydia. His eyes ranged lingeringly over her face and elegant figure. Detecting this, had Lydia not known that his affections were already engaged, she would have sworn that the gaze in which he held her reflected an instant and somewhat unexpected attraction.
‘Miss Barrington,’ bowing over her hand before looking directly into her eyes, ‘we meet at last. Miss Abdale has told me all about you. She was quite looking forward to your arrival, I must say. I am delighted to make your acquaintance – although I understand that under the circumstances of your stay at Abdale the pleasure must all be mine.’
‘Thank you,’ murmured Lydia. ‘I have been looking forward to meeting you, too.’
Captain Churchman raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.
‘So you have heard of me already? I am honoured,’ he said.
‘But of course. How could it be avoided? With Grantham being but a step away it is hardly likely that I should remain in ignorance of you for long.’
‘Captain Churchman is a welcome addition to the neighbourhood,’ put in Julia. ‘We should be quite lost without him.’
‘That is my good fortune, Miss Abdale. I take great delight in demonstrating how neighbourly I am.’
‘And yet you must have been acquainted with my cousin’s family these many years.’
‘Of course,’ with a smile. ‘The pleasure grows, however.’
‘Well, Captain Churchman, you have come at an unfortunate time to further your acquaintance with us today. Papa is busy with the bailiff, mama is indisposed, while I – I am awaiting the arrival of Mr Swales, with whom I must spend a miserable hour in practising scales and arpeggios.’
‘What worse time could I have chosen? I might have guessed that you would be busy. But at least your tormentor has not yet arrived, so you have no excuse to leave me immediately – and the results of his handiwork bring pleasure to everyone. You must, therefore, admit it to be worthwhile?’
Julia looked unconvinced.
‘As for that, all young ladies sing and play. I doubt that I am much better than anyone else.’
‘You are too modest, Miss Abdale. I can think of no-one whose performances give me more pleasure.’
Julia flushed.
‘Well, sir,’ she teased, ‘I am not convinced of your taste, that’s for sure, though I am glad you enjoy my playing. It makes all the hours of practising worthwhile.’
Lydia wondered when these hours of practising actually took place, as she had no recollection of ever having seen her cousin open the instrument except when the music master was expected.
‘I am perfectly convinced of my taste,’ murmured Captain Churchman, moving closer to Lydia to examine the embroidery in her hand. ‘And you well know it, Miss Abdale.’
The fiendish Mr Swales at that moment being announced, Julia reluctantly vacated her place and made her way to the door.
‘I suppose I must try to keep your approbation and concentrate on my lesson, though it robs you of my presence, Captain Churchman.’
‘But Miss Barrington – surely she does not study also?’
‘Lord, no. Lydia can have no use for a music master.’
‘Then if Miss Barrington does not object to it I should be delighted if she would ramble in the shrubbery with me until such time as the maestro has done his worst and releases you from his clutches. It is a monstrous fine day for November. I am sure the fresh air will do us the world of good.’
Lydia required no further invitation.
‘I should be more than happy to join you, Captain Churchman. I delight in being out of doors – the more so on days like this. I find there is nothing more guaranteed to raise the spirits than a light breeze on a clear blue day. Allow me to fetch my mantle and I shall be with you in a trice.’
Turning their steps towards the shrubbery Lydia indeed felt brighter than she had done for several weeks. Her companion made even a commonplace remark about the weather entertaining, and followed this up with a vivid description of how the rains had affected the local cows that month.
‘For you see, Miss Barrington,’ he smiled, glancing sideways at her in what she could only feel was a somewhat rakish manner. ‘An old soldier must gain his amusements where he can. If I am to be neglected by my more charming neighbours then I must make the best of what entertainment there is – and cows are such attractive creatures, don’t you find?’
‘At least the animals cannot answer back. This, I have heard, is the largest drawback to female company experienced by most of your sex.’
‘My dear Miss Barrington, you do yourself an injustice. Do not entertain for one moment the thought that female conversation palls. I am mightily amused by it always, I assure you – particularly when delivered by a female as bright and attractive as you. Having debated the matter in my own head for quite some time I am finally quite convinced of it – I much prefer the company of the female of our own species to that of any other animal you could name.’
‘Am I supposed to feel flattered, Captain Churchman?’
‘It is not meant as flattery.’
She shot him a quick glance and found his gaze upon her yet again. His grey eyes glittered in the sunshine b
ut there was a smile on his face that made him appear almost childlike.
‘I fear you are teasing me,’ she scolded, turning hurriedly to examine some particularly noticeable berries on a tree. ‘I am not one to succumb to flattery, however – you must do better than that if you wish to impress me.’
‘But in what way do I flatter? I say no more than is the truth, after all. Though my schooling was not of the finest (I was sorely inattentive, I very much regret to say) I am of the firm opinion that to flatter is to exaggerate – and I am not exaggerating when I call you quite charming.’
The appeal of the berries was such that they demanded Lydia’s closest attention. This was perhaps fortunate, as it denied Captain Churchman the opportunity of ascertaining the effects of his words on the colour of her face.
‘You are too kind. You will not find me charming when I scold you for saying too much.’
‘Then I shall deny you the necessity – I will tease you no more, I promise you.’
They rambled through the shrubbery in silence for a minute or two, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Lydia was wondering why it was that, though Captain Churchman was certainly the most charming young man of her acquaintance, with the easiest manners in the world, she was feeling increasingly uncomfortable with him. She could not quite decide. Perhaps it was that his manners were just a little too easy for a totally new acquaintance – although normally she was the first to appreciate an open temper. Maybe it was the obvious admiration that he was showing her that concerned her more. Whatever it was it began to annoy her and she was more than pleased when, stepping out of the shrubbery at the rear of the house, Captain Churchman broke the silence in a rather more rational vein.
‘How do you like Abdale?’ he asked, pausing for a moment to look back at the building. ‘Mr Abdale has greatly improved the property over these past few years.’
‘So it appears. Both the house and grounds are much changed from what I remember. The whole vista seems to have been redesigned.’
‘Aye. If only my brother would give the word we could do the same at Grantham, but he will not. He believes the money better spent on improving the tenants’ lands rather than extending our park. But there … you have lived in town up to now, I believe, Miss Barrington. You will not have come across such issues before. You must find country life very different from what you are used to.’
‘It is certainly very different. It is not unpleasant, exactly, although I cannot think it an improvement.’
‘But I find you an improvement, Miss Barrington. Our little society can only be delighted at your arrival at Abdale House.’
Much to her annoyance, Lydia blushed yet again. She could not like such talk on so short an acquaintance yet she had to admit to feeling flattered by Captain Churchman’s attentions. She glanced across at him and felt a sudden chill as the winter breeze caught the empty sleeve of his greatcoat.
‘We should go inside,’ she said. ‘I daresay Mrs Abdale will need me shortly. I regret that you are in the minority in considering me an asset to the neighbourhood. Dependent relatives are not greatly admired on the whole.’
After this initial visit Edward became a frequent visitor to Abdale House. It soon became apparent that he held Lydia in particularly high regard. It was to her that he made his way immediately on entering the room, and for her he reserved his warmest smiles. Whenever Lydia expressed an opinion he would quickly second it. If she wanted anything he would make every effort to procure it for her. Mrs Abdale noticed all this with grim satisfaction. So Julia was safe after all. A younger son, disabled most horribly in the wars and with scarcely more to his name than Lydia herself, dependent on the charity of his brother – why, he would make an unexceptionable match for her. True, her niece was showing little enough interest in Edward in return but Lydia was doubtless a sly puss and, remembering her mama’s predilection for a red coat, Mrs Abdale did not doubt that she would speedily succumb to his charm. They could live in poverty and probably utter misery in some damp cottage somewhere, raising numerous children with nothing to keep their bodies and souls together, and Mrs Abdale would be satisfied that they had got their just desserts.
Lydia herself viewed his attentions with concern. As well as her displeasure with the openness of his admiration for her she felt unhappy about her position in relation to Julia, whom she knew felt strongly for him and who was so far managing to display a creditable restraint whenever Captain Churchman was with her.
The weather had turned suddenly wintry and the girls were kept much indoors over the next few days. By the end of the third day Lydia was feeling decidedly fidgety. She deplored the lack of exercise which formed her chief diversion and felt plagued by Mrs Abdale’s incessant demands on her for trivial errands and meaningless little jobs around the house. But by the Thursday a hard frost had set in, making the snow crisp underfoot, and Lydia excitedly urged Julia to accompany her to the pond to see if the ice had set sufficiently to skate on. Even Julia had sewed, gossiped and lounged more than she would have liked, so it only took a very little persuasion to tempt her out of doors. They quickly changed into their walking dresses, Lydia into her plain charcoal gown of Yorkshire wool with a single tucked flounce at the hem, Julia into a jaunty cherry-red pelisse with matching stockings and hat which exactly suited her baby yellow curls.
They were to be disappointed in the pond. Although partly frozen over, as expected, there were some sorry-looking ducks still paddling about in the centre of it and it was obviously far too dangerous to skate on. Nevertheless, Lydia felt impelled to test the ice with her foot. This was not a particularly wise thing to do. The ice cracked through instantly, rewarding her with the sudden chill of icy water as it seeped inside her boot. Even worse, as she leapt back in a vain attempt to retrieve her now sodden footwear from the murky water she lost her footing on the slippery bank. Before she knew it she found herself sliding slowly but surely into the lake. She grabbed at the first thing to come to hand. This happened to be her cousin’s leg. Julia gave a little squeal. With some unexpected presence of mind and a praiseworthy speed of reaction she grasped at a tree branch that was hanging overhead. Though precarious, it managed to serve the purpose. Both Julia and Lydia were stopped in mid slide, though Lydia looked decidedly the worse of the two, being inches deep in the turgid water and in cahoots of giggles as she desperately struggled to release herself.
‘Well manoeuvred, Julia,’ she managed to get out between whoops of laughter. ‘But now will you be so good as to bend that branch a little more in my direction so that I have half a chance of heaving myself up out of this wretched water?’
Julia did as she was bid. Her cousin took the branch in both hands and pulled. Little by little she managed to ease her way out of the clinging morass, the mud producing some particularly unpleasant squelching noises as she dragged her feet out of its sticky grip. Finally, and with one more enormous heave, she released herself and scrambled back up the bank. She was just in time. The branch finally relinquished its hold on its parent and Lydia ended up with the whole thing in her hands.
‘Not quite firm enough for skating today, then,’ she remarked, as she eyed her ruined boots ruefully.
Julia was amazed that her cousin should take all this in her stride.
‘Lord, Lydia, I am glad that was not me. You had as well fallen in completely, your gown is so muddy and wet.’
‘It is just as well that it was not you, Julia – your mama would be quite beside herself with worry, and I’d be sure to get the blame!’
Lydia stamped her boots on a stone in a token attempt to dry them a little. Julia was genuinely concerned.
‘Do you think we should head straight home?’ she asked. ‘We can either take the flat route back through the park, or try the shorter cut up the hill through the woods and out onto the drive.’
‘Let’s try the woods. We may be able to track some animals in the softer snow as we go and it is quite an easy walk once we are on the ridge.’
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bsp; Julia acquiesced. The wood had become one of Lydia’s favourite haunts on earlier visits to Abdale, with some fine stands of oak and beech, and she was fond of following the winding pathways there. Today, though, it was not the wisest route to choose. The snow drifting amongst the clumps of trees was soft and very wet. Julia’s boots and stockings quickly became quite as soaked as her cousin’s, although their colour was marginally less brown.
Julia looked down in dismay as she perceived a cold dampness seeping through her stockings and onto her feet.
‘Oh my goodness,’ she wailed, regarding her boots with anguish. ‘Whatever are we to do? My boots are quite soaked through. I shall surely catch my death. Mama will be so angry. She always insists that wet feet are to be avoided at all costs.’
Lydia agreed, laughingly, that something must be done.
‘I suppose we ought to hurry,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t do to catch our deaths. I’ll tell you what – let me race you to the edge of the wood. It would be great fun – and much the quickest way of getting home.’
Julia looked doubtful.
‘Come on, Julia. After all, there is no-one around to see us and we really should get back as quickly as we can.’
Lydia set off at a sharp trot. Julia, realising that she was in imminent danger of being quite left behind, soon joined in, panting, behind her. They both giggled like children. Lydia quickly increased her lead, avoiding the deeper drifts of snow with some agility while Julia stumbled along behind. And then suddenly the edge of the wood was in sight. Lydia raced towards it, out of breath and laughing, her cheeks glowing brightly with the exercise and the cold.
Curricle & Chaise Page 3