Free The Phantom Lover by Elizabeth Mansfield Page B

rebuff. “There is nothing unseemly in my walking about on my own grounds. And it is much more unseemly for you to talk to me in that way,” she said reprovingly.
    â€œYes’m, I’m sorry,” the boy said sheepishly, but he didn’t move.
    â€œWell, go along, Jemmy. Your chores are waiting.”
    He sighed. “Best I go with ’ee,” he said truculently. “Mum’d trounce me proper if I let ’ee go off alone.”
    â€œBut why?” Nell asked curiously.
    Jemmy, though a good, honest boy, was not at all lacking in imagination. The loneliness of his life in Cornwall encouraged his talents for pranks, storytelling and invention. So he was not long at a loss for words. “The presence , y’know,” he said in a suddenly conspiratorial tone. “I didn’t wish to frighten ’ee, but one cain’t be certain when the … the presence will show himsel’.”
    â€œThe presence? What do you mean?”
    â€œThe ghost, ma’am,” he said, looking at her with wide-eyed innocence. “The Thorndene ghost, y’know. Sure, you must have heard o’ the ghost?”
    â€œMore than I wish to,” Nell answered drily. “You don’t mean to tell me that a grown boy like you believes in ghosts?”
    â€œOh, yes’m, I do! An’ so would ’ee, if you’d seen him as many times as I’ve done!”
    â€œSo you’ve seen him, have you? Well, well! You stir my interest, Jemmy. I quite look forward to meeting your ghost myself. But now, if you please, lead the way to the stables.”
    The reason for the boy’s reluctance to show her the stables was not clear to Nell at first. The buildings were unexceptional, well-kept and orderly, the few horses housed inside were healthy-looking carriage horses, and, in a corner stall, Nell noted a graceful mare who seemed perfectly suited for her to ride when weather should permit. But the boy’s unease did not abate. He stayed close at her side and seemed to be trying to hurry her out. A sudden, loud neighing cleared the mystery. Nell raised her head to trace the sound, but the boy tried to block her view. “What was that?” she asked, startled.
    â€œNought to trouble ’ee, ma’am,” the boy said promptly. “We’d best start back.”
    Nell, ignoring his suggestion, thrust him out of her way and strode to the stall behind him. “Good Lord! What a magnificent animal!” she exclaimed as her eyes fell on the great black beast whose existence the boy had evidently been trying to hide. It was the most splendid horse she’d ever seen, combining a feeling of tremendous power with a graceful beauty. “Whose horse is that?” she asked, awe-struck.
    Jemmy’s mind raced, but he could think of no explanation for the presence of such a horse. “Well, it … ah … it b’longs to the Thornes, o’course …” he said stumblingly.
    Nell tore her eyes from the beautiful animal and fixed them on the discomfitted boy. “The Thornes, you say? How interesting. I’m surprised they keep him here, hidden away from the world, when he’d surely have been the talk of London had they taken him there.”
    The boy shrugged without attempting to answer.
    â€œWho exercises him? Who rides him? Surely not you ?” Nell asked.
    The boy lifted his head proudly. “I ride him sometimes … when he—I mean, when I’m permitted.”
    â€œ He ? Who is it who permits you?”
    Jemmy bit his lip. “My dad,” he said, lowering his eyes to the ground again.
    â€œIs it your dad who rides him?” she persisted, disbelieving.
    He glanced up at her briefly. “Yes’m,” he said shortly.
    â€œI shouldn’t think a man his age could manage an animal that size,” Nell remarked.
    The boy didn’t answer. After waiting a moment she shrugged and turned back to the