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Authors: Lizzie Church

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BOOK: Curricle & Chaise
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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 demande
d. ‘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 woul
d 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 angry 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.

As it was a fine day Lydia determined on paying her visit to Mrs Churchman whilst she had the chance, and suggested that Julia might like to accompany her to Grantham Hall.

Julia turned her baby-blue eyes on her cousin.

‘You are not still angry with me from yesterday, then?’ she asked, somewhat diffidently. ‘I was half afraid you were going to tell mama. You looked terribly angry.’

Lydia smiled at her.

‘I suppose you do not fancy another lecture?’ she suggested. ‘I have cause enough to give you one, I must say. I did not say one quarter of what you deserved. But no matter. Don’t concern yourself over it. I was most annoyed, I must admit, and rather disappointed at your slyness – but then, there is no real harm done and it has at least enabled me to learn to ride. Don’t let the thought of another lecture put you off the visit – I promise I shall not rail at you again.’

Julia looked torn. On the one hand she would welcome the opportunity to see and be near to her beloved Edward and it could be quite a lark to turn up on his doorstep. On the other hand she was a little afraid of Mrs Churchman and more than a little afraid of meeting up with Henry, and, besides, there was no guarantee that they should even find Edward at home. So in the end
she decided to feel affronted by
the lack of a specific invitation to herself. She turned on her cousin petulantly, as the immediate cause of this lack of attention on Mrs Churchman’s part.

‘I’m really not in the habit of making calls without mama,’ she declared. ‘And besides, Lydia, the invitation was not extended to me. I really think you should go on your own. I think it more fitting. I can always call on another occasion should Mrs Churchman request it.’

As Mrs Abdale was that morning confined to her room with a headache Lydia decided to set out as soon as she had completed her daily tasks in order to avoid the objections that she felt would otherwise certainly be forthcoming. It meant that she would not be able to request the carriage, but this was a minor inconvenience. So she set off on foot, secretly quite glad of the exercise, and of having some time on her own.

The first half mile was taken up in walking Abdale’s tree-lined drive but after this she was faced with a mile or more along the public turnpike towards Grantham Village. This was an evil she had not thought about. She was not used to walking country turnpikes on her own, without even a servant, and she began to feel a little uncomfortable. She could actually see Grantham Hall on her right as she walked past but the main entrance was further down the road and there was no obvious short cut through. After a while, however, she spotted the lodges ahead and soon found herself on a curving driveway, with Grantham Hall sitting stolidly before her. Lydia liked what she saw. It was not as grand as Abdale, to be sure, but it looked homely and welcoming, built in the squat, square style of a hundred years before. The pleasure ground was separated from the park by a pair of wrought-iron gates, which looked like they were rarely closed. She passed through them and up to the house and in a very short time she was standing in the hallway, with a servant taking her name.

Mrs Churchman was sitting quietly in the breakfast room, catching the weak rays of the early afternoon sun through a window overlooking the park. It was a bright, pleasant sort of room, not particularly large, but rather unfortunately placed overlooking a hill rising quite steeply away to the west.

‘My dear Miss Barrington,’ said Mrs Churchman, half rising with an effort. ‘How very kind of you to call.’

‘Please do not rise on my account, ma’am,’ said Lydia, advancing into the room and accepting the outstretched hand with a smile. ‘I hope I find you well, and disengaged?’

‘You do indeed, and you are most welcome, I assure you. If you would be so good as to ring the bell I shall order some refreshment. Do sit down. I have been longing to get to know you better.’

Lydia examined the room as the butler brought in the tea things. Mrs Churchman noticed her interest and smiled.

‘We are not so fine here as at Abdale,’ she said, regretfully, engaging herself with the tea. ‘Your aunt and uncle have become very grand this past few years or so. Grantham looks quite insignificant in comparison. But at least I have the consolation of knowing that we have had some say in the improvements there – it was Henry who recommended that your uncle should engage Mr Humphrey to design the principal rooms. Mr Humphrey is quite the personal friend of ours and would gladly take Grantham in hand if Henry would only allow it.’

‘Yet Grantham seems very comfortable as it is,’ said Lydia, looking round appreciatively. ‘I much prefer a comfortable home to a showpiece, however elegant. I am persuaded that a sunny room and comfortable sofa are more to be treasured than all the expensive ornaments in Abdale House.’

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