Page 72 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #2)

On a warm, misty November day, Dolly bounded up to Alice, her hindquarters vibrating madly, her stubby tail a blur.

Axe straightened up from reaching under Della for the end of the girth, and the flush of his face could be attributed to his having been bending.

He waited for Alice to speak, and when she didn’t, seeming fully occupied with receiving Dolly’s raptures, he said, ‘Thought you weren’t coming any more. ’

‘I’ve been in London. For ages and ages.’

‘Did you have a nice time?’ Axe asked politely.

‘No! I hated it.’ He waited, unspeaking, watching her. Finally she looked up, then stood up. ‘I like to be here,’ she said. ‘Everything feels . . . right, when I’m here.’

Dolly had sat down by her feet. She hoisted a hind leg and scratched behind an ear, then lay down, crossing her paws, looking content.

Axe, troubled, thought of Ruth’s strictures.

He’d thought that being in London for a month would break the habit, that she would discover new interests, or simply forget.

But here she was, and there was no doubting she was no little girl any longer.

He ought to send her away. Instead of plaits, she had her hair coiled up behind, and it exposed the planes of her face.

No, not a child any more. It was not right, it was not appropriate, for a young lady of the house to be hanging around the woodsman’s cottage.

But just seeing her again had produced a feeling of contentment in him that he had not been aware was missing.

He felt, like Dolly, that all was now well.

Alice broke the silence at last. ‘Are you going up to the woods? With Della?’

‘That’s right,’ he said. Then, ‘Want to come too, bring Cobnut?’ It didn’t even seem like a decision.

Her face lit. ‘Yes, please,’ she said.

The stay in London had been good for Nina.

Apart from the plays and operas, apart from seeing Kitty (and Giles), she had had lunch with her aunt, along with some of her aunt’s academic friends, which had been very pleasant.

She’d had a very happy afternoon with the Morrises, Mr Cowling joining them for tea, and Mawes drawing her madly all through, and then she and Lepida had gone on to a lecture at University College about atoms, beta rays and electrons.

She hadn’t understood very much of it, but it had made her feel connected to a larger world.

After the lecture, she and Lepida had been met by Mr Cowling and Decius, who took them to supper.

They’d had a very merry evening, and Nina was glad to see her friend getting on so well with Decius.

Even Mr Cowling said afterwards, privately to Nina, ‘I think our Decius took a shine to that young woman.’ Though he spoiled it a little by adding, ‘I suppose she reminds him of his mother – she’s a blue-stocking, too. ’

She was happy to get home to her lovely house; to be greeted so warmly by motherly Mrs Deering; to see how her nerines were doing.

She straight away took Trump out for a long walk – like her, he had found London confining after the wider spaces they were used to.

The November air was a little foggy; the trees were half bare, wanting only a rainstorm or a strong wind to strip off the last leaves.

The autumn smell reminded her that the hunting season had started, which reminded her of the uncertainties that hung around her.

It would have damped her pleasure if she had let it; but London had given her a new perspective.

There were more things in life than horses – though naturally in a town like this they would seem important.

But, as Aunt Schofield had said, she had gone into marriage with her eyes open, and it would be childish now to repine.

She must make the best of things, and not make an enemy of her husband.

It was as well that she had her thoughts in good order because when she got back to the house, just as it was getting dark, she learned that Lady Wharfedale had called and left her card, and Mr Cowling, who came into the hall to meet her, was in an odd mood.

Nina would have called it uneasy, if it had been anyone other than the supremely confident Mr Cowling.

Still, he looked at her a little sidelong, as if she were a strange dog that might or might not bite.

But what he said was, ‘Did you have a nice walk? Did you meet anyone?’

‘Very nice, thank you. No, no one.’

‘You must be cold. Come, come into the drawing-room. The fire’s got up nicely now.’

She wasn’t feeling cold, but she let him fuss over her, ushering her to the best seat by the fire, questioning if her feet were wet, bringing her a glass of sherry.

The room looked rich and cosy with the curtains drawn and the firelight gleaming on the fine old furniture.

Gas lighting was all very well, but there was something very comforting about this time of day in late autumn and winter, when it grew dark outside and the servants brought in the lamps and closed the curtains and settled you in for the evening.

Watching him pouring his own glass, she reflected that she never knew what he was thinking.

Still, he must have seen the card on the tray in the hall, even if Mrs Deering hadn’t mentioned the visitor to him.

She went straight to the heart of it. ‘If you don’t want me to be friends any more with Lady Wharfedale, Joseph,’ she said, thinking that using his name would please him, ‘I won’t be. ’

He sat down on the sofa, catty-corner to her, and said, ‘My dear! There’s no need .

. . I don’t want you to be unhappy. I never liked having to – well – forbid things.

But I’ve been on this earth longer than you, and I understand its ways better.

And I couldn’t have you careering away into trouble and not stop you.

What sort of a husband would I be if I didn’t look after you? ’

‘I know I did wrong in keeping things from you,’ she began.

But he leaned forward and took her hands, stopping her. ‘That’s all over and done, now. No need to bring it up again. And I warrant you, when we go to church again, it’ll all have been forgotten.’

Nina brightened. ‘So, then, it will be all right if I go hunting this season? I’ll ride side-saddle,’ she promised hastily. ‘Bobby will lend me a horse.’

Her hands were dropped. Mr Cowling looked troubled again.

‘No. That won’t do. When I said it would all have been forgotten, that doesn’t mean folk can’t be reminded.

It’s too soon to start stirring things up again.

I don’t want you hunting this year. Maybe by next winter, things’ll be different – we’ll see.

But for now, you’d better leave horses alone.

If people don’t see you on a horse, they’ll forget quicker.

And anyway,’ he added, trying to read her expression, ‘it’s dangerous, is hunting.

I hadn’t properly thought before, but folk get hurt all the time – killed even.

Wasn’t your friend Kitty’s father-in-law killed out hunting?

I don’t want to lose you, my love. I’d never have a quiet moment if you were out there risking your life. ’

Nina thought his arguments illogical. ‘But thousands of people go hunting and don’t get hurt. And why would it be any different next winter?’

He frowned. ‘I’m not going to debate it with you, Nina. That’s my decision. No horses, no hunting. That’s final.’

Nina looked away, embarrassed. It seemed somehow odd to be told such things – and in such a manner, as of a stern father – by someone she had shared a bed with.

It was, she supposed, a consequence of marrying an older man.

If she had married a man of her own age, they would probably have quarrelled like children.

‘Then I suppose I can’t see Bobby Wharfedale any more? You won’t want me to be friends with her.’

‘I never said that.’ Mr Cowling thought for a moment.

Lady Wharfedale might not be the best influence on Nina, but she was a leader of society and an important person in Market Harborough.

And he was conscious that Nina needed a female friend of her own age.

She was hardly more than a girl, really, and girls needed other girls to chatter and giggle with.

He didn’t want to come the tyrant over his young wife and see her wilt, like a flower starved of water.

‘I don’t see any harm in your being friends with her.

I know you like her, and she obviously likes you.

It was civil of her to call the first minute we were back.

No, you go ahead and enjoy your friend’s company. Just keep away from horses for now.’

Nina thanked him; but was remembering that Bobby hunted three times a week in the season. Horses were such a big part of her life through the winter months, Nina wondered if she’d have much time to spare for a non-riding friend.

Giles walked up the hill from the station.

Two days largely spent travelling, and two days in the company of Mr Cowling, looking over the factory and the plans, had left him in a state of mind to enjoy the solitude of a walk and the peace of the green hill.

He was nearly home when the dogs, wandering aimlessly about the hedgerows, found him, and bounded up with swinging tails and gleaming eyes and hard jabs of the muzzle into his tender places to show their joy at the reunion.

They circled him wildly, then led him straight to Kitty, who was walking in what passed at the Castle for a garden.

Her face lit, too, when she saw him, and he warmed for a moment with affection.

‘Come for a ride with me,’ he said. ‘There’s time before it gets dark.’

‘Just a ride? You’re not going to meet Adeane or inspect a barn roof or anything?’

He laughed. ‘Just a ride. Purely for pleasure. Would you like?’

‘I would like,’ she answered, laughing too.