Curricle & Chaise

by Church, Lizzie

  ‘Beaten you, Julia,’ she whooped triumphantly. She turned to look behind her in an effort to estimate the extent of her victory and leapt up in glee to find that she had won by a good forty yards. Unfortunately just at that instant she stumbled over a half-concealed tree stump, tripped over her gown, catapulted into the air and, clutching valiantly at a branch which instantly snapped in two at the unexpected demand suddenly placed upon it, ended by losing her footing entirely and rolling quite sharply down to the bottom of the slope – only to land at the feet of two horsemen who had pulled up on the drive. Both dismounted instantly to help the heap of laughter and blushing confusion from the snow. Julia, finding her way more gingerly than her cousin, negotiated the hillside successfully and lingered behind, much embarrassed by her association with the scheme.

  ‘I trust, madam, that I find you unhurt?’

  The tone was correct, if not solicitous. Lydia, abashed and dishevelled but still giggling, was brought to her feet. She was acutely aware of having displayed rather more of her ankle than she should have done in the height of her confusion (which neither of the two gentlemen was insensitive enough to appear to have noticed) but she was bruised and wet enough at that moment to thrust this embarrassment to the back of her mind.

  She hurriedly scrutinised the gentleman before her. His shining top boots looked pristine, despite the somewhat muddy situation in which they currently found themselves. His fawn-coloured breeches and dark green riding coat of perfect cut were spotless and uncreased. The contrast with her wet, crumpled garments and sadly disordered hair was mortifying in the extreme. There was nothing to do but make the best of it, however. She peeped up at his face and was somewhat comforted to find that it did not look implacably shocked. She felt better again when, her eyes now alighting on the second horseman, who had been assuring himself that Julia was unhurt, she recognised Captain Churchman. Edward was looking considerably more amused than his companion, if a little less immaculately dressed.

  ‘Will someone have the goodness to introduce us?’ demanded Edward’s companion as Julia half cowered behind her cousin, ‘or are we all to freeze to death whilst I determine the necessity of introducing myself?’

  ‘Lord no, Henry, don’t be so disagreeable, for goodness sake,’ recommended Edward. ‘Miss Barrington - my brother, Henry, for whose manners I most humbly apologise. Henry – Miss Barrington, Miss Abdale’s cousin – who now resides at Abdale, to the benefit of us all.’

  Henry Churchman made no response other than to divest himself of his coat, which he deftly placed around Lydia’s shoulders almost before she realised what was happening. Then, having collected his horse, he offered Lydia his arm (which indeed she was reluctant to take, but felt it ill mannered to refuse) and proceeded to lead them both towards the entrance to Abdale House. Of little more than medium height, and with thin angular features and sandy hair, he so little resembled his handsome younger brother that, had he not been introduced as such, Lydia would have been hard put to believe in their kinship at all. But, peeping across at his face again in order to confirm her initial impression of him, she could not help but admire the firmness of his mouth and chin – which his younger brother lacked – and the brilliant blue of the eyes which, just at that moment, were turned questioningly upon her.

  ‘Tell me, Miss Barrington,’ he began. ‘Do you make a habit of rolling down your uncle’s hillside – or was I fortunate enough to witness your debut in such a venture?’

  The eyes gave no hint of a laugh. Lydia could hardly tell whether he was amused by her escapade or not.

  ‘I enjoy a daily ramble, sir – although I endeavour normally to remain on my feet.’

  ‘The method has more to recommend it, to be sure.’

  ‘It has indeed – although for speed of descent it could scarcely be beaten.’

  ‘Unless you were to take to horseback, perhaps?’

  Lydia smiled.

  ‘I have to agree with you there, Mr Churchman. As I have never had the pleasure of taking to horseback in my life I would imagine that I should experience an even speedier – and heavier – descent than the one I have suffered today.’

  Mr Churchman emitted what sounded like a slightly choked chuckle.

  ‘You make little of your abilities, I see, Miss Barrington, although you are probably quite wise. I would certainly not recommend a gallop down a hillside to anyone other than an accomplished rider. The snow, however, would blanket your fall – as doubtless you have discovered today. Should you determine on trying out the exercise you may find that you escape serious injury if you do so in the snow.’

  ‘You have formed a strange view of my activities, sir. I am not much in the habit of undertaking hare-brained schemes, I assure you.’

  ‘You disappoint me. I had thought to find the sportswoman in you.’

  ‘I am afraid not. It is difficult for a lady to be sporting, after all – although I must admit that, had the ice on the pond been ever such a little thicker, I daresay I should have attempted some exercise there.’

  ‘Ha, I thought as much. It is a pity you do not ride – although to one who spends her leisure time in clambering about hills and skating on thin ice the pastime would doubtless appear tame.’

  Edward, following close behind with Julia, picked up his brother’s last words.

  ‘Riding is an excellent exercise, Miss Barrington,’ he said eagerly, attempting to pat his mount whilst leading it by the reins at the same time. ‘I cannot imagine why Miss Abdale has never taken to it, especially as Mr Abdale keeps such an excellent stable. It cannot, after all, be thought difficult – why, even a poor one-armed fellow like myself can manage a beast with no great problem. I am convinced that you would both benefit greatly from the activity.’

  ‘Lord, Captain Churchman, I have always lacked both the permission and the inclination to learn. Mama expressly forbade it when I was young. I was rather delicate as a child and mama felt that riding would give me the headache.’

  ‘And I, too, was not able to learn, Captain Churchman,’ added Lydia. ‘Papa was unable to provide me with a mount and as we lived quite in the middle of Bradbury there was very little need. Nevertheless, I should very much have liked the opportunity to learn how to ride.’

  ‘Then we must rectify the omission immediately – it is never too late to learn, after all. Why, I for one would be only too pleased to give you the benefit of my instruction (poor though it might be). I feel persuaded that, between your stables at Abdale and those at Grantham, we should find a mount quite suitable for a lady to begin – come,’ he urged, as Lydia hesitated. ‘Promise an old soldier that you will make use of him and I shall be a very happy man indeed.’

  Lydia looked desperately to Julia for help.

  ‘I should be delighted to accept your offer,’ she began, Julia offering her no assistance whatsoever. ‘But I feel that my aunt and uncle would not approve of the plan. My aunt forbids me to be away from her for long in case she is in need of some service that I can perform for her, while my uncle may have need of his horses and there could be no question of being allowed to use yours.’

  Edward was not impressed.

  ‘Why, as for your uncle – I daresay you will bring him round easily enough – who could resist those soft brown eyes? Surely he can have need of no more than a quarter of his horses at any one time – and we shall not tire them out, you know – the lessons will be perfectly easy and need not take long. I guarantee to make a horsewoman of you by the new year, Miss Barrington – aye, and Miss Abdale, too, if she will let me. So let us have no more excuses and obstacles and agree to the plan straight away.’

  ‘I am afraid that it is a little early to consider the matter settled,’ protested Lydia, a little desperately. ‘Mr Abdale may have other plans for the use of his stable and we have heard already of my aunt’s abhorrence of the exercise. Young ladies are not always to have their own way, you know – why, I am persuaded that you should be the first to complain, if we did.’
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  ‘You do me an injustice, Miss Barrington, indeed you do. There is no-one more sensitive to the demands of your sex than I.’

  ‘I almost believe you, Captain Churchman, though I would need more evidence than you have provided so far to be totally convinced.’

  It seemed that Mrs Abdale was so far recovered from the backache, which was plaguing her at the time, that no sooner had the party reached the front door than she was able to appear in the great hall, smiling profusely, to usher them inside. She scarcely gave Lydia a second glance, despite her extraordinary appearance in Mr Churchman’s coat (which by now appeared to be wilting somewhat under the dampening influence of the snow), while her concern over Julia was so mild that it was the work of only a very few minutes (during which she constantly behove Mr Churchman to agree that her daughter was a wicked puss to wet her feet so, and to put her poor dear mama in such a worry for her, to which Mr Churchman made no reply whatsoever) before both girls were allowed upstairs to repair the damage and return to the drawing room in a state more fit to be seen.

  ‘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, for 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…’