Keeping the Castle - By Patrice Kindl Page 0,26

let Mama and me have the horses, while you and Prudence walked the rest of the way, it would certainly be very thoughtful and kind of y—”

“Certainly not!” “No, indeed!” cried Prudence and Charity.

Charity eyed me resentfully. At length she burst out, “I do not know why I should have to stay at home if Althea is to go. She is the youngest, after all. You ought to let me ride your horse, Althea. It’s only right.”

“Now, Charity,” interposed my mother hastily, “I am sorry for your disappointment, but you know I will be grateful to have your company.”

“She ought to stay at home. She is the youngest. I want her to lend me her horse.” And Charity almost, but did not quite, stamp her foot.

“Charity, dear,” said my mother, “Pegeen was purchased with funds from Althea’s father’s estate. He especially wished it—he even spoke of it on his deathbed—as Althea is so fond of riding. And you know that you have always been indifferent to the exercise. Pegeen is Althea’s horse. Indeed, I am told that she leaves almost nothing for the stable boy to do, so far as caring for the animal.”

“Perhaps, Charity,” chimed in Prudence, “while we are disporting ourselves on the moors, you could get on with counting our lace handkerchiefs and other items of dress, before we send them out to the laundress? You have such an exquisite eye for detail.”

Charity’s face turned red and seemed to swell.

I had remained silent, but now I had to speak. The proper thing for me to do would be to offer my horse to her and remain at home. But I could not bear it. Charity and Prudence were both dreadful horsewomen, quick with the whip and heedless of the horse’s comfort or safety. And the entire party had been a scheme of the Baron’s so that I could show him the countryside.

“Charity—” I began, but at this tense moment Greengages shuffled into the room. “Mr. Fredericks, madam.”

In strode Mr. Fredericks, the image of impatience. He nearly toppled poor Greengages onto the floor in his haste to enter, execute his business, and leave.

“Will two horses suffice, Mrs. Winthrop? If so, I will leave you. I’ve the devil of a lot of work to get through if I am to frivol away tomorrow chasing about after a collection of rocks in a circle. However, Boring insists that I attend.”

“Mr. Fredericks, how do you do?” said my bewildered mama. “Which horses do you mean, sir?”

“Why, the ones that you, and one of your daughters, I suppose”—he looked about at us as though uncertain of which sex we were—“are to ride on the morrow. I am told you have not enough horseflesh to ensure that everyone will be able to ride. Boring thought we ought to send a few over on loan.”

I could feel a flush of gratification rising to my cheeks. This was a marked attention, without mistake. He must have meant this to give me pleasure, and it was a thoughtful, generous gesture. True, I could have wished His Lordship had come to offer the horses himself instead of allowing his boorish friend to deliver them. However, perhaps he felt too self-conscious to appear in person.

I smiled and said nothing as my mother, with a swift glance at me, agreed that two horses would be adequate. Mr. Fredericks declined to sit down or accept refreshment and was gone, having been in the room for something less than five minutes.

“Never mind, Althea,” said Charity. “I had much, much rather ride the Baron’s horse than your poor old thing.”

Since I too had much, much rather she ride the Baron’s horse than my poor old thing, I said nothing but merely smiled.

8

THE DAY OF OUR trip to the Screaming Stones dawned early, as it does in June in northern England: at about half past the hour of four in the morning, in fact. No matter how near dawn came to the time that we had laid our heads down on our pillows the night before, Fido and Alexander felt that we ought to be up and active if the sun was over the horizon. There was no lying abed until noon, as I am told fine London ladies are in the habit of doing—at least, not for Mama and me, who must see to the details of our excursion.

It gave every promise of a lovely day, with not a cloud to be seen. In the midst of preparations I paused a moment