Page 75 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

The storm rolled away over the hills; the thunder died, muttering intermittently like someone who, with the argument long over, returns to say, ‘And another thing . . . !’ And then it was gone too far to hear.

The intensity of the rain eased: it ceased to pound and merely drummed, then gradually stuttered to a stop, leaving an eerie silence behind it, punctuated by the sound of drips and of gurgling in gutters. A greenish gleam of light appeared to the south-west, and widened; the clouds thinned and the darkness became twilight, and then a watery evening revealed itself. And just at the point when everyone would finally have had the leisure to wonder where the missing were, they returned, Giles driving the pony-trap with Alice beside him and Vipsania tied behind. Giddins was so glad to see his two horses dry and sound, and exhibiting an entirely normal desire for their evening feed, he barely noticed that the two humans were distinctly damp.

Moss, with Mrs Webster hovering behind, met them in the hall, and said, ‘I took the liberty of putting dinner back, my lord.’

‘Good,’ said Giles. ‘I could eat a horse. But Lady Alice needs a hot bath before that.’

‘Hot water for both of you, my lord,’ said Mrs Webster. ‘I’ll see it’s brought up immediately.’

And by the time Giles and Alice reached their rooms, Hook and Daisy, flying up the backstairs, were there to greet them and help them out of their wet clothes. No one, of course, asked them where they had been or why they had got wet. Such explanations waited for the family, at dinner, where talk was so lively, Kitty had no need of her stored question, and no opportunity to ask it.

The woodsman’s wagon, drawn by Della, trundled into the stableyard, and Giddins, who happened to be crossing it, walked over, laid a hand on Della’s rump, and squinted up at Axe Brandom enquiringly.

‘Load o’ fence posts,’ Axe said. ‘Where d’you want ’em?’

‘Round the backyard, o’course,’ Giddins said. ‘You don’t suppose we wants ’em in the stables?’

Axe was unembarrassed. ‘Just askin’.’ He seemed in no hurry to redirect his load. ‘That was a storm and a half t’other day. I heard a big beech over to Ashmore Court got struck and come down on the stable roof. You had any damage?’

‘No damage,’ Giddins said. ‘Horses was a bit spooked, but that’s to be expected.’

Axe nodded. ‘And Lady Alice – she all right?’ he asked casually.

Not casually enough. Giddins frowned. ‘What’ve you got to do with Lady Alice?’

‘I see her at the haysel up at High Ashmore. Heard she got soaked in the rain. Hope she didn’t catch a cold, that’s all.’

‘She’s lively as a cricket, far as I know. But it’s not for you to go asking, Axe Brandom, just because your brother’s her ladyship’s groom. You don’t go bandying our young lady’s name about.’

Axe shrugged. ‘Civil enquiry, that’s all. Don’t go bustin’ your braces.’ He clucked to Della and started to back her round.

Giddins watched him with his bristly jaw set. ‘And mind that gate post!’ he shouted. Seeing the wagon clear the gate, he turned away, muttering to himself. ‘Askin’ after members of the family, as if he was anybody! Don’t know what the world’s coming to. ’Twouldn’t have happened in his lordship’s day. People used to know their place. His lordship and Lady Alice helping with the harvest – the very idea!’ He reached the core of his indignation. ‘Comin’ in soaked to the skin, lookin’ like gypsies, for all to see. What’ll people think? His old lordship would’ve never . . .’ He had reached the tack-room door, and stopped, puzzled, having forgotten what he was on the way to do when interrupted by Axe Brandom. Blessed if he could remember! Uppish estate workers, coming meddling with his day! All the world was going to rack, if you asked him. Nothing was the same since the old Queen died . . .

Nina was at Welland Hall again, walking with Bobby towards the stables. Bobby halted when they reached the gate of the yard, and turned to her with an appraising look. ‘Have you ever ridden cross-saddle?’ she asked abruptly.

‘When I was a child,’ Nina said. ‘Not since.’

‘Have you thought about it?’

‘I can’t say that I have. Why?’

‘Kipper and I were talking about it the other day, after you’d left. He was quite concerned about the accident you nearly had with Florence.’

‘Nearly had,’ Nina said with a smile. ‘Not the same as actually had.’

‘I know. But, you see, riding side-saddle is much more dangerous than cross-saddle. For a man, if his horse comes down, his saddle’s designed to throw him clear. For us, the horns are designed to hold us in place. The chances of falling clear are small – and because of the imbalance of having our weight all to one side, it’s more likely the horse will fall that way and we’ll be trapped underneath.’

Nina looked at her in surprise. ‘Are you saying you don’t want me to ride your horses? You think I’m not good enough?’

‘No!’ Bobby said impatiently. ‘That’s not it at all. This isn’t about you, it’s about all women. Why do you think we ride side-saddle?’

‘I don’t know. We just do.’

‘It’s because the men make us. They claim that riding astride looks immodest. Their idea, of course, is that women should ride purely to be seen, and not for any pleasure they might get out of it. Side-saddle is awkward and difficult and dangerous, and bad for the horses, too. It puts a strain on their backs and lungs.’

‘But – do you ride cross-saddle?’

‘Often, when I’m alone. It’s wonderful, Nina! The ease and freedom! The feeling you have of complete control over your horse! You know that, riding side-saddle, you have to carry your hands high, too high to have proper contact with your horse’s mouth. And you can’t use your legs the way a man can. Riding across is like being one flesh with your horse, like a centaur. Everything is so smooth – jumping is so easy – you feel as if you could never come off!’