Free Curricle & Chaise by Lizzie Church Page B

aye, and a great pugilist, too – though he rarely makes use of his skills.’
    ‘Men must show how clever they are by slaughtering every creature that moves, Miss Barrington. It is great sport. I should not be without it for the world.’
    ‘You have a cynical air about you, Mr Churchman. I don’t believe that you mean one word of what you say.’
    ‘But why should I not mean it? Hunting is a tremendous way for we men to show our superiority over everything.’
    ‘And what of this pugilism, sir? I had not realised what a bloodthirsty companion I have had on my rides.’
    ‘You would be surprised, Miss Barrington. Though he seems so serious now, my brother was quite a tearaway in his youth.’
    Lydia eyed them both uncertainly.
    ‘I must admit that I find that difficult to believe.’
    ‘It is true for all that. I regret that – for a very short time, you understand – I did grow a little wild and foolish. I blame my brother entirely, of course, but one winter he managed to get me extremely drunk on some disgusting spirits that were apparently all the rage and persuaded me that it would be a good idea to challenge a prize fighter to a round. In my own defence I would have to say that I distinguished myself particularly well – I must have lasted a good half minute before regrettably passing out. I remember waking in extreme discomfort on the banks of the Grand Junction Canal in Paddington – luckily I had not fallen quite in - somewhat lacking in clothing and without even a penny to get me home. Fortunately I was able to find my way to a friend’s house nearby and persuade the servant to let me in, but the adventure unnerved me so much that I straightway settled down, and have been my normal self again ever since.’
    At that moment Charles Abdale moved over to join them and drew up a chair at Lydia’s side. Lydia was annoyed. She was thoroughly enjoying her discussion with Mr Churchman and would like to have been able to take it further, but on her cousin’s appearance he immediately sat back and concentrated all his attention on the music instead. Charles carelessly laid his hand upon hers as it rested on her lap.
    ‘So, cousin – you are quite grown up, I see, and becoming quite miss-ish, if I mistake it not. It is not many years since you would have boxed me soundly round the ears for teasing you at dinner. I half hoped you would do so tonight, but now you simply blush, and are angry, but say nothing.’
    Lydia withdrew her hand and looked at him coldly.
    ‘I am not so forgetful of my position, Charles,’ she said.
    ‘And so I see. You are most demure, Miss Lydia – quite the lady, in fact. I shall challenge myself to rouse you during my stay with you this month.’
    The challenge in his voice, and the glitter in his eyes as he said this made Lydia shiver. She had no doubt of his ability to distress her. She felt the menace as directly as she felt the heat from the fire nearby.
    ‘I should rather you remember our situations, Charles,’ she managed to recommend. ‘We are both of us no longer children. We must not treat each other as such.’
    ‘You are right. I am no longer a child. I am stronger now and will still get what I want.’
    ‘I say, Abdale,’ broke in Edward, much to Lydia’s relief. ‘I liked that greatcoat of yours. Wouldn’t look half as good on me, of course. Even so, I wouldn’t mind the name of your tailor, if you would oblige some time…?’
    A break in the performance prompted some applause and then Lydia found Mrs Abdale urging her to take a turn on the pianoforte. Lydia knew immediately that the request was designed to demonstrate the sorry contrast between her own inferior performance and the (relatively) accomplished one of her cousin. She smiled ruefully to herself. At least the request would curtail her intercourse with Charles. She rose immediately to take her place at the instrument, only to find Edward Churchman accompanying her and suggesting they sing a