Curricle & Chaise

by Church, Lizzie

  What she did see of Charles, however, she disliked. He was certainly tall, handsome and fashionable, with his dark hair styled a la Titus and an aquiline nose, much in the mould of his mother’s, but his air of utter selfishness and the carelessly hurtful way in which he could say the most commonplace remark made her recoil from him, and avoid him if she could.

  She was therefore delighted and relieved to find no sign of him the next morning, when the riding lesson was due. She could easily imagine his sneering comments on watching the lesson progress. Why, heaven forbid, he might even take it upon himself to join in, purely out of a wish to annoy everybody else.

  Julia was looking forward to the lesson with some trepidation. Her fear of horses had not been overcome by her first lesson despite enjoying the close proximity of Edward. But for Lydia the occasion was one of real pleasure. How else could she feel, her spirit free, the air cold and fresh and a greater world than the cosseted space of Abdale House before her, ready to explore? What more could she possibly desire?

  Julia’s lot again falling to Edward, Lydia dedicated herself to concentrating on what Henry had to teach her and by the end of the lesson she had improved enough to have the honour of a ride around the park with him. True, her quiet little mare was a good few hands shorter than the vigorous chestnut stallion of Mr Churchman but, excellent horseman that he was, he kept his animal tamed in order to remain walking next to her. Julia watched them go with some trepidation, hoping that her mama would not chance to look out of the window as Lydia and Henry rode by. But she felt so little confident of being able to retain her seat around the park, let alone keep up with them, and was, besides, quite happy to remain in the charming company of Edward in the yard, that she gave them no more than three backward glances before they had disappeared out of the stables and around the corner of the house.

  At first they talked only of the ride.

  ‘Remember to straighten your back now, Miss Barrington,’ he corrected her a couple of times; and then: ‘Be careful not to pull on her mouth.’

  They stopped by the ruin to take in the view along the valley.

  ‘I am so fond of the country here at Abdale,’ said Lydia, slackening her hold on the rein for a moment. ‘The landscape is quite charming – do you not think? – with the sweep of the hills and the church down below.’

  ‘You admire the picturesque?’

  ‘I do indeed – although not at the expense of utility, I would say. I should admire this ruin more, for instance, were it to serve some purpose – as a cottage, maybe, or even a little school.’

  ‘The villagers would agree with you there. But in order to be fashionable you must appreciate that it is necessary to spend as much as possible on what is as useless as it can be.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid I can’t be fashionable, Mr Churchman. I don’t like it, whether it is fashionable or not.’

  ‘Ha – so you think it extravagant?’

  ‘I certainly do. Perhaps it is because I have so little of my own, but I cannot abide such unnecessary waste.’

  ‘I agree with you, Miss Barrington. I, too, dislike waste – the more so as some poor villagers have had to toil for years in order to accommodate it. Let us reject the ruin, then. I am sure that there are more natural beauties for us to admire at Abdale.’

  They nudged their horses back into a walk.

  ‘I hope your mama suffered no discomfort from her visit to Abdale on Saturday,’ said Lydia. ‘She is apparently not very strong.’

  ‘No, she is very well today, I thank you. On some days she is much better than on others. She enjoyed her evening very much, I believe – although I think she would have liked to have had the chance to talk to you rather more. She feels for you, I think – the loss of your father in Portugal echoes my brother’s sad accident in similar circumstances. But then,’ with a slight smile, ‘she has always felt such things most deeply.’

  Lydia glanced at his profile and her heart fluttered slightly. There was a firm gentleness about him which she had to admire. The smile lingered on his face for a moment, then was gone.

  ‘Your mama is too good. I am over the worst pain of my father’s death, although I never tire of talking about him. He was a good man.’

  Henry nodded.

  ‘My father was a good man, too. He cared deeply about the world about him – his land, his villagers – and was very good to them. He was very interested in improving his estate so that everyone could benefit from it, but I know that he would not have liked what is going on at the moment. Progress has much to recommend it – but not at the expense of human misery and suffering. I have tried to model myself on him since he died. I have found it helpful to think of him if ever I’ve not known what to do.’

  ‘You pay your father a great compliment, sir. It is an accolade for anyone to have someone else model themselves upon them, but more especially, I think, for a father and his son.’

  ‘It is,’ murmured Henry, looking at her for a moment. ‘We are both fortunate, I think, in having parents whom we respect. It would be utter misery, to me, to feel ashamed of either one of them. Although I was barely one-and-twenty when he died I count myself fortunate that he was able to teach me so much – and his old friends, too, were so very kind as to give me a steer whenever I needed it (which was quite often, I fear, at first). But we talk only of our fathers, Miss Barrington. I know nothing of your mother. Tell me a little about her, so that I may put her into her place.’

  Lydia considered for a moment.

  ‘My mother was unfortunate, I think,’ she said at last. ‘She was not made for a life of want. She was always rather a poor manager, and of course the fact that she had only a very small income didn’t help. She always tried to seem cheerful and contented, more for our sakes than anything else, but it was quite obvious that she was not. My father’s death was the final blow, I think. She became even less well able to cope than before and tended to leave everything to me. It saddens me to think of it. Had she possessed even a tenth of what my aunt enjoys I am persuaded that she should still be alive today. As it is, the constant worry was too much for her. In a way it was quite a release when she died.’

  ‘And it fell on you to be strong. It can’t have been easy for you.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t. I’m not naturally a good manager, although I have had to learn to cope. I find application tedious and would much rather have left everything for someone else to do. And my sister, Susan – she is only eight years old. She is a strange, silent child. She has great difficulty in learning anything and appears to be in her own world for much of the time. I worry about what ever she will do in the future. I cannot imagine her ever being able to fend for herself and I cannot expect my aunt and uncle Bridger to grant her a home for life, although I have no doubt of their willingness to do so. Dr Bridger is an excellent parson – he practices what he preaches – and yet the vicarage there is so tiny – just a kitchen and bedroom, really, with an attic and a little study at the back, hardly bigger than a cupboard – yet I have never heard either of them complain. I try to think of them whenever I start feeling sorry for myself – things could be so much worse. And my experience over the past few years will certainly stand me in good stead for my life here at Abdale. Why, how else would I cope with this wretched mare, who insists on going her own way whenever my attention wanders, if I hadn’t become used to exercising my own will?’

  ‘About as well as your cousin, I should think,’ was the dry reply as he took hold of her rein to steer the pony on its way. ‘As you say, everything is for the best in the end. Your abilities have enabled you to master the animal already - otherwise I fear that I should be heartily sick of remaining within the yard by now. But there – see – we are able to get a view of Grantham as our reward – just direct the rein a little – so – and you should see it through the trees. It is not as fine as Abdale, although until Abdale was built it was generally held to be one of the finest in the district. But I hope you will soon see it more closel
y for yourself. My mother has asked me particularly to say that she would be most pleased to receive you at Grantham – she does not receive many morning calls, you know, and things get tedious for her at times, being stuck inside so much. Edward and I try to spend some time with her each day, of course, but I am away from Grantham a good deal and anyway, I find that the chatter of her sons is of limited comfort to her – it is female company that she requires. We would both count it a very great favour if you would do her the kindness of sparing her a little of your time.’

  Lydia was touched by Mr Churchman’s most tender regard for his ailing parent. She knew very little of Corinthians but she felt it rather unlikely that they should care for their mamas in quite so affectionate a way.

  ‘I should be delighted to visit your mother, Mr Churchman. The pleasure, I assure you, would be all mine.’

  ‘That’s very good of you, Miss Barrington – thank you. She will be so pleased when I tell her. But now, here we are back at the stables already – and you’ve not fallen off once! I’m sorely disappointed – I had a hankering to see you flung into the mud once more – but I must admit also to being quite impressed. Perhaps as your instructor I could claim the credit for your progress...No? Oh, very well, then, I admit it – you have managed magnificently on your own – I have hardly had to tell you anything today. If you carry on improving at such a rate you’ll soon have no need for my services at all – apart from handing you down, of course...’

  The lesson over, the two girls retreated into the warmth of the house to discuss their progress and plan out the rest of their day. Edward walked with them to pay his respects to Mr Abdale and Charles, but Henry cantered off as soon as the mares were safely delivered to the groom. Charles was in the saloon and on returning downstairs Julia and Lydia found that they had the morning room to themselves.

  ‘I daresay you wish your progress was not so rapid after the events of the morning,’ began Julia, picking up a fashion magazine and idly flicking through it. ‘A ride alone with Mr Churchman is enough to slow your progress for good, I should think.’

  ‘I cannot agree with you there, cousin. I must confess that I find Mr Churchman a most gentlemanly companion, and a most patient teacher when I make a mistake.’

  ‘Lord, Lydia, I cannot think how you can say such a thing. Why, he scarcely speaks two words together unless he is forced, and he is so solemn and serious when he does you feel that you’ve displeased him all the time. I should rather pass my time with his brother any day.’

  ‘Yes, it is strange just how dissimilar two brothers can be.’

  ‘Yet I find it odd that Mr Churchman should come to Abdale so often lately. He never used to. I shouldn’t be surprised if he comes round merely to stand in Edward’s way.’

  ‘Yet why should he wish to do so? Were he in love with you himself I could understand his objection, but he pays you so little particular attention that even your mama is hard put to imagine his regard for you.’

  This was a little much even for the happy Julia to acknowledge.

  ‘As for that, Lydia,’ she chided, ‘he shows no-one any attention that I know of. Indeed, he is so careless of a lady’s feelings that I wonder he could have been brought up under the same roof as his brother at all. I can only think that he doesn’t think us good enough to make a match with the Churchmans. He comes from a very long standing family in the county and he can be quite arrogant at times. Or perhaps he wants Edward to marry into more money. Lord knows but that they may be greatly in debt, the way he mismanages his estate. And yet, I have never heard of him being at low tide. It is very strange. I cannot think of the reason at all.’

  Lydia felt similarly perplexed.

  ‘Yet it is Edward whom I find the more difficult to understand. I have no doubt at all that he holds you in great affection – and yet he has been so attentive to me at times that, if I had not known otherwise, I could almost have thought that he was in love with me as well.’

  Julia gave a little laugh.

  ‘Oh, as for that, I am perfectly safe, I assure you. I have not had one moment’s concern on that score, from the start.’

  Lydia looked up from her needlework, surprised.

  ‘Whatever can you mean?’ she demanded. ‘I confess I was perturbed by Edward’s evident admiration for me at one time – to tell the truth, I was quite worried by it. I didn’t want to cause you a moment’s unnecessary pain.’

  ‘Lord, Lydia, whatever did you think? Edward is a better actor that I had realised, to fool you as well as mama. It is a fine lark, to be sure. We have laughed about it for ever. Surely you realised what he was doing? I warrant he has paid you a great deal of attention – but he was only play-acting. We wanted mama to think that he was courting you, not me. And I’m convinced that it has worked. Why else do you think she included you in the dinner party the other evening, and fell in so readily with the horse-riding plan? She’s actually quite struck with the thoughts of you marrying him – it would be the perfect way of getting you off her hands. By pretending to be in love with you Edward has been able to visit me far, far oftener than ever he could have done otherwise...’

  Lydia was so scandalised by what she had just heard that she stabbed her finger.

  ‘You say that he’s been acting a part?’ she faltered, sucking her finger furiously and glaring incredulously at her cousin. ‘’Feigning affection, merely to deceive my aunt into thinking he did not care for you? Julia, how could you? To know what he was doing and allow it to go on – did your own conscience not shrink from such a thing?’

  ‘I can’t see any harm in it, cousin,’ shrugged Julia defensively, turning her wide eyes upon her cousin. ‘After all, you are party to my feelings. I trusted that you would not allow yourself to fall in love with Edward when you knew how I felt already. My parents are quite unreasonable in their dislike of the match. Why not make best use of a happy situation, and enjoy the joke into the bargain?’

  ‘But Julia, can you not see the falsehood in all of this? It’s bad enough for anyone to feign affection that they do not feel, but to deceive your mama, however unreasonable she may seem...’

  ‘Lord, Lydia, had I known you would take on so I should never have told you about it. I had thought it a very good lark, to be sure. You are quite the prude. I had not thought it of you at all.’

  ‘If it is prudish to hate deceit then you are quite right. I could never have imagined that you could act in such a way. You have shocked me more than you know.’

  It was perhaps fortunate for Julia that the entrance of a beshawled Mrs Abdale at that moment put an immediate stop to the conversation. Lydia fell silent, an arch look from Julia only serving to increase her sense of indignation to such an extent that she could hardly trust herself to speak. Mrs Abdale sat herself down comfortably by the fire, noticing as little of what was going on as usual, and told Lydia to read out the lighter parts of the newspaper to her. By the time she rose to leave again Mr Abdale had returned to the house and, what with one thing and another, the two girls were not left alone together for the whole of the rest of the day.

  Lydia was surprised to find Charles already at breakfast the next morning when she got down at ten. Until now she had successfully managed to avoid finding herself alone with him. If she had realised that he could keep such reasonable hours on occasions she would have been more on her guard. But it would not do to appear to be intimidated by him. A bully like Charles would only thrive on the slightest suspicion of his power over her. So she helped herself to her usual breakfast of ham and bread before sitting down warily opposite him.

  ‘And so, cousin,’ he remarked, looking up lazily from the newspaper that he had been pretending to read. ‘You are well settled here at Abdale, I see. It must be quite a change after being cooped up as you were in Hapgood Street.’

  Lydia inclined her head and said nothing.

  ‘You are grown into a mighty pretty woman, Lydia, and you are quieter than I remember. I see you to this day as an ang
ry little demon, wriggling and battling long after anyone else would have given in. You weren’t afraid of anybody then – not even me. Remember how I used to shoot arrows at you? I wanted to see if you would squirm, but you never did – not even once. Maybe I should shoot at you again, to see if you have changed?’

  Lydia felt distinctly uneasy. The evils of her position as a dependent relative struck her again, most forcibly, for the first time in several weeks. But she knew that it would not do to antagonise any of the Abdales, and least of all Charles. So she contented herself with casting her cousin a withering glance and carrying on with her meal. After Julia’s revelation of the previous day she was not much in charity with any of the Abdales, and particularly not with her cousins.

  ‘I should be pleased to have an answer, Miss Lydia,’ indicated Charles. He rose from his seat, strolled lazily round the table and stood close behind her chair. Lydia could feel his breath on her cheek as he stooped to whisper in her ear. ‘I am not used to being ignored by the women in my life,’ he hissed. ‘I am mightily amused by your coldness, my dear – but methinks you are in need of a little warming up.’

  Lydia felt Charles’ fingers on her shoulders and managed to stifle a shiver.

  ‘I should thank you to leave me alone,’ she retorted.

  ‘An answer at last – what good progress we make. Why, in a day or two we may even call ourselves friends. But you should watch yourself with me, Lydia. You know me well enough from the past to understand that I can make life most uncomfortable for those who put me in a pucker. And you wouldn’t want to annoy me, would you, my dear?’

  Lydia could feel a blush spreading slowly but surely across her face. This annoyed her intensely. Charles would surely be aware of it and know that he had succeeded. He gave a short laugh and bent back close to her ear once more. She thought that he would kiss it and fleetingly wondered what she should do about it. At that moment, however, his sister Julia appeared in the doorway. Instead of kissing the ear he pinched it, hard, between his fingers. Then he walked away and after another impertinent stare in her direction he resumed his perusal of the newspaper for a while before finally quitting the room.