Page 56 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #2)

When he paused for breath, Lady Wyville said, ‘It seems she had little experience of good society before you brought her here. It must be pleasant for her to be in a position to make friends among higher echelons than she’s accustomed to.’

Cowling was still working his way through this utterance, spoken like a compliment but sounding, to him, a bit like a put-down, when she went on.

‘If I might inject a word of caution, you would do well to discourage some of her acquaintanceships. Lord Foxton may have a lamentable reputation when it comes to women, but I believe it is largely talk. He is no danger to a well-behaved woman. More importantly, his notions are sound. There are others, however, who might lead her astray. I mention it only in a spirit of neighbourliness.’

‘I beg your pardon, ma’am,’ said Mr Cowling. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Ah, I feared as much. I believe you are away from home a great deal. You perhaps don’t know what has been going on.’

Mr Cowling bristled a little. ‘Are you suggesting that my wife—’

‘I’m sure it was not at her own instigation.

A young girl not entirely at ease in the social stratum in which she finds herself can easily stumble onto the wrong path.

And there are those who see no harm in it.

But what may be viewed as an eccentricity in a respectable widow like Mrs Anstruther – or even in Lady Wharfedale who, after all, comes from one of our very oldest families and has married into another – may not appear quite comme il faut in someone who is in, shall we say, a more delicate position vis a vis society, with her reputation still to make. ’

Cowling, though concentrating hard, had found it difficult to keep track of the subordinate clauses and had been slowed down by the necessity of translating the French phrases.

He arrived at the full stop several beats after her and without much idea of what she had said.

But he gathered, at least, that she was saying Nina had done something she disapproved of.

He put on a little hauteur. ‘I’m sure you mean to be helpful, ma’am,’ he said, not now being sure of any such thing, ‘but I don’t care for innuendo.

I’m a plain man, and prefer plain speech, and if you’ve heard anything disobliging said about Mrs Cowling, p’r’aps you’d tell me straight out what it is and who said it. ’

So that I can knock his block off , he concluded internally.

She looked at him from an hauteur higher than his.

‘If you think I am engaging in gossip, Mr Cowling, you quite mistake my character. I despise gossip, and those who propagate it. What I speak of is common knowledge, and it is only because a reading of your character suggests it is not something you would approve of that I presume to mention it, suspecting that you might not know, because of your frequent absences, what is going on.’

‘What is going on?’ he demanded in exasperation. ‘What is this common knowledge that I don’t know about?’

‘Your wife goes out riding with Lady Wharfedale,’ Lady Wyville said, happily abandoning syntactical complexity now she had got to the death blow.

‘Sometimes they are accompanied by her brother, Mr Denbigh. The two ladies ride astride. It has quite shocked the neighbourhood. If you value your wife’s place in society, you should forbid it. That’s all.’

Cowling took the blow well; he was silent for a moment, then said, in a low voice, ‘Who told you this?’

‘One of my maids has a brother who is an agricultural worker. He has been hedging and ditching for several weeks in the fields around Gartree and the Gallows Road, and he has seen them pass – without himself being seen.’

Mr Cowling drew himself up. ‘It seems to me, my lady, that what you’ve described is exactly what gossip is.’

Lady Wyville looked haughty, and was evidently about to say something crushing, when the dance came to an end and the music stopped.

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ Mr Cowling said stiffly, dropped her hand, bowed, and walked away.

He went and found an empty room where he could stamp about for a bit, then took himself to the card room and watched the play while the last few dances of the evening went on, concluding with the post-horn gallop, which was accompanied by a lot of whooping.

He hung about in her bedroom, fiddling with things, while Tina unclasped her necklace, undid her buttons, and helped her out of her gown and corset.

It was not his usual custom, and Tina grew nervous, sensing, as horses do, that a storm was coming.

As soon as she had taken out Nina’s pins, she said, ‘Madam, do you want me to—?’

And Nina, who had been in a dream of pleasant tiredness, intercepted her anxious glance at the lingering husband and said, ‘No, that’s all right. You can go now.’

She took up her brush and drew it through her hair, watching him in the mirror. As soon as the door clicked shut, she put it down and turned, enquiringly.

Mr Cowling stared at her, unsmiling. ‘Is it true?’ he demanded.

She felt a flutter of nervousness. He had never looked at her like that before. ‘Is what true?’

‘Don’t play with me! Is it true that you – that my wife has been riding about the countryside astride a horse? You and that Lady Wharfedale, riding about like men?’

Trump felt the atmosphere and slunk under the dressing-table.

‘Not at first,’ Nina said, trying to sound calm. ‘Only lately. Bobby urged me to try it. She told me how delightful it was and – well, it’s true! You can’t imagine the difference it makes! It’s quite wonderful.’

‘Is it, then?’ he said stonily.

‘Please, Joseph, please don’t be cross. There’s nothing wrong with it, honestly.’

‘Nothing wrong?’ His anger rose. ‘You’ve shocked the neighbourhood. Everyone’s talking about it.’

She frowned. ‘That can’t be true – no one knows.’

‘Oh, someone knows – and when somebody knows, everybody knows. It’ll be all through the town.

Whispering and pointing. You’ll be shunned.

We’ll be cut – and after the trouble I’ve been to, to get you set up here, to get you into the best society.

No one will want to know you now. There’ll be no more invitations – they’ll cross the road to avoid you. Is that what you wanted, eh? Is it?’

‘But – I haven’t done anything wrong. Honestly—’

‘Honestly? Aye, and that’s what hurts me most. You haven’t been honest, have you, Nina?’ His use of her name was like a slap across the cheek. ‘You lied to me.’

‘I didn’t lie —’

‘You kept it a secret from me, because you knew I wouldn’t like it.

You deceived me. Have I deserved that? Have I treated you so shabby?

Oh, I know who’s behind it – that Lady Wharfedale!

Thick as thieves, the two of you. I can see you now, heads together, laughing away at me, laughing at silly old Joseph Cowling, your foolish old husband – what a know-nothing!

So easy to pull the wool over his eyes!’

‘No!’ she cried, agonised that he was so hurt.. ‘Never, we never would! We didn’t laugh at you. Truly, truly! We didn’t talk about you at all.’ Only once she’d said it did she realise how it sounded.

‘No,’ he said bitterly, ‘I don’t suppose you did. Out of sight is out of mind, isn’t it? I dare say you never give me a thought once I’m out of the house, off to my work to earn the money to buy you nice things.’

She faced him, trying to hold his gaze steadily, though she was trembling inside. ‘I did keep it from you,’ she acknowledged, ‘but it was only because I thought what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you, and I was afraid if I told you, you’d object.’

‘Object?’ His face reddened. ‘I should think I would object! It’s disgusting!

It’s indecent! My wife, riding astride? My wife, going about the countryside with her legs apart?

Wide apart, with a horse between them?’ He was shouting now.

‘Oh, nothing to object to about that, is there? My wife with her legs on display to any man that cared to walk past? Nothing any man wouldn’t be happy about there! ’

‘Nobody saw! Nobody was there! We only did it in the fields, not where there was anyone around. And the skirt covers the legs, just as it does side-saddle. It’s not indecent. And oh, Joseph, if you only knew—’

‘I don’t care to know. You knew it was wrong, but you went on and did it anyway, behind my back.’

‘But it isn’t reasonable to object! And it’s safer,’ she brought out the justification eagerly.

‘It’s so much safer than sidesaddle. You can stop a horse if it tries to bolt – you know one can never stop a bolting horse when side-saddle because you have to carry your hands too high.

And if it slips and falls, with a side-saddle, the chances are you’ll be trapped underneath.

If you care about my safety, you must see that. ’

‘I care about your safety.’ His voice was lower, but tense with anger. ‘And I care about your reputation. And your honour. Which is more than you seem to do. Well, there’ll be no more of this. You are not to ride that way ever again. I forbid it.’

‘You forbid it?’ she said coldly.

‘Yes, I, your husband, I forbid it. And since you’re not to be trusted, I shan’t be buying you a horse.

No riding at all. The less you’re seen around horses after this, the better.

Maybe in time we can get back a bit of reputation, if you behave yourself from now on.

And you stay away from that Lady Wharfedale.

She adds nothing to your credit. I don’t doubt she’ll go on behaving like a hoyden and a trollop, but I won’t have you tarnished with her brush. ’

She stood quite still, staring at him, shocked at the storm she had unleashed. She had never thought it would be this bad. And the worst thing was that she could see, under the anger and the righteous indignation, the hurt she had inflicted.