Revenants (4)

She would benefit from going riding in the Park

Sybil Vernall fancied that, perchance, she was coming about to feeling a little more used to this new life. But indeed, the last year had been one of great upheaval – Mama’s illness and death, and then people throwing up their hands and saying, what provision had she made from Sybil, and 'twas most strange that had not been about sending her Home long afore she reached this age –

Why, Sybil had some notion that that was because there were no family members at Home to whom she might be sent, at least on Mama’s side; or partly. But also that Mama had been exceeding loathe to part with her – had not desired to leave Calcutta herself, where a still-pretty widow found herself in considerable demand –

And even had Uncle John not been on active duty fighting the Sikhs, hardly seemed proper that one that was in his situation might be a guardian for a young girl shortly coming to womanhood –

But Mama had took thought – had had time to make certain dispositions – and placed Sybil in the guardianship of the stepson of her first marriage. A highly respected physician in London: what could be more suitable?

Sybil, that had read novels, was less assured of the matter, and had had gloomy prognostications of some sinister villain from a Gothic novel, or at best, one that would dispatch her to some horrid school.

However, as the surface of the dock still swayed beneath her feet, and Mrs Moffat, that had been her escort on the voyage as she took her own children Home, found Dr Asterley and made the introduction, she found it hard to imagine him a conniving monster. Ruddy face; blond beard; somewhat nervous – made very civil to Mrs Moffat – not so old as she had imagined –

O, and he had brought a maid with him, Agate, that was to be her personal maid, since her mother’s ayah had been in no disposition to come with her.

Had been an immense long drive from the docks to where he lived, and sure 'twas not some remote mansion in the countryside but a fine house in a row of similar houses in a wide street.

Over the next weeks she found that thought had been taken. Her bedchamber was very prettily done out – had a sitting room of her own and somebody had put together a shelf of books. She was not to go to school, but was to go have lessons at Offgrange House with Lady Inez Ambert and Lady Leah Merrett’s governess, Miss Hazelgrove –

Very agreeable girls much of your age, said her guardian. Their uncle – Mr Geoffrey Merrett – is a well-known barrister, that I have occasionally advized on certain medical matters to do with his cases – suggested it to me. His brother is the Earl of Nuttenford, and his sister is the Marchioness of Offgrange.

Sybil blinked and gulped, and anticipated that they would show proud and haughty towards her: but they were entirely agreeable girls, though she came to suppose that they were a deal better educated than she was. But Miss Hazelgrove by no means made her feel a dunce, merely remarking that her education had been a little neglected in certain aspects, and that might quite readily be remedied.

During recreations they made pleasant, and Inez even went so far as to explain the reason for her out of the common name: before Papa succeeded to the title, he traveled a great deal in the Spanish Americas, and had many adventures, and one of them was helping a lady named Doňa Inès escape from her father’s estancia so that she might become a nun, a most romantical tale.

Sybil sighed and said, had once read a tale like unto that, but there had been some matter of an antient curse of the Incas in the business.

Inez said, naught of the kind with the lady, is now the Mother Superior of a convent.

Her guardian also said, supposed she would benefit from going riding in the Park – could not see his way at present to keeping a pony for her, but had come to an arrangement with Jupp’s stables in Mayfair for her to have the use of a good steady pony, and to ride out of a morning two or three times in the week with Mrs Penkarding, a lady very noted indeed for her horsemanship and her veterinary skills.

So many strangers, thought Sybil, but indeed it would be very agreeable to ride, and one heard the Park was lovely – must be a deal greener than the Maidan.

Agate of course came with her to the very pretty house wherein Mrs Penkarding resided, and was took off to enjoy tea, and mayhap gossip, in the housekeeper’s sitting-room.

Sure Mrs Penkarding was a somewhat daunting figure at first – tall, and with a broken nose, and lame of one leg – but exceeding amiable in manner, commenting that she could observe that Sybil had had good instruction – o, her uncle was a cavalry officer? – as she mounted the very pretty little pony Pumpkin, and took her seat, and walked him to and fro a while. So Sybil discoursed a little of Uncle John and the action he had seen in the various wars in those parts and his fine abilities in the various horse-back sports that were practised – greatly admired for his pig-sticking.

And the Park was very agreeable – Mrs Penkarding said 'twas a deal more pleasant at this hour o’the morn than at the fashionable hour when there was a great press all wishing to see and be seen.  Pumpkin was the most amiable of ponies with a pleasing gait, and they were able to stretch out in a canter.

Sybil was therefore looking forward to her next ride. She fancied that Agate was also looking forward to the jaunt: had remarked on how exceeding hospitable the household showed.

She was a little startled to observe that they were to be joined by another rider – Vicky, said Mrs Penkarding, comes with us the day to exercize Lady Bexbury’s Melusine.

O, she was in some envy to see Melusine – a fine almost silvery dapple mare – but 'twas quite a shock to see the dusky features of the rider and her woolly curls. Had noticed, previously, that several of the household servants were of, she must suppose, African descent –

Vicky, went on Mrs Penkarding, is daughter to Sam Jupp, that owns the stables, and Lady Bexbury’s Sophy –

Vicky flashed a grin at Sibyl, that made a small smile and bow in return.

But one might see, as they came into the Park, that Vicky was quite the finest rider, next to Mrs Penkarding herself, that Sybil had seen in this land. La, did Uncle John observe, there would be none of his grumbling upon ladies sitting like sacks of grain upon their steeds!

Somehow, Sybil was feeling a little mournful the day: as she took Pumpkin back to the livery stable, she found herself resting her forehead against his neck while she waited for the groom to come unsaddle him –

Miss Vernall! – she looked up: 'twas Vicky Jupp – the Lady offers that you should come join us for chocolate and Euphemia’s cakes, dares say your maid is well set-up having a comfortable coze herself.

That was kind – Sybil blinked back the impending tears, patted Pumpkin, and followed Vicky across the mews and through a very well-kept yard into the house, and into a sitting-room where Mrs Penkarding was already presiding over a low table upon which coffee- and chocolate pots and cups were set out along with a well-supplied cake-stand.

Sure, she was certainly not starved by her guardian – the food was plentiful and well-prepared, but, o, 'twas somewhat plain in accordance, she came about to understand, with his theories upon healthful diet.

Chocolate! Little sweet cakes! Fruit buns! Curd tartlets!

Mrs Penkarding smiled upon 'em and desired 'em to help themselves.

So good.

There was naught but crumbs left, and Sybil and Vicky were both licking their fingers, when came in a pleasing plump figure of a – lady? that was yet darker than Vicky, and said, Victoria Jupp, 'twas high time she went be about her lessons, at which Vicky pulled a face and got up, saying , O, Ma! as she went to kiss her and to go be about her business.

Mrs Penkarding looked from Vicky’s mother to Sybil and said, La, Miss Vernall was a deal blown about from their ride, mayhap – was Sophy at leisure – she might tidy her up a little? – turning to Sybil she added, Sophy is quite the paragon of lady’s maids –

Sophy wrinkled her nose, saying, poo, but adding, indeed, would be glad to freshen Miss Vernall a little, and beckoned her out.

As she was shown into the very fine dressing-room, Sybil guessed that, like Melusine, Sophy was part of Lady Bexbury’s establishment – for she could not imagine Mrs Penkarding in this setting.

Sophy wiped Sybil's sticky fingers with a scented damp cloth, and also her face, and sure, she felt a deal better for it, and then began unbraid her hair to brush it out. As she did so – o, exceeding soothing – murmured that sure 'twas a hard thing to lose a mother – had been but little older than Sybil when she lost hers – but had at least had had family about her – there, 'tis good to weep, should not hold it back –

How comforting was Sophy’s softness. And after Sybil had had her cry out, Sophy wiped her face again, and put her hair into very tidy braids, and smoothed a hand over 'em, and patted her shoulder, and did a little tidying of her garments, and sure, no-one would have known.

Sophy smiled at her and said, dared say they should see her again, was she going riding with The Lady.

And now, she said, I fancy Agate will be getting into an agitation about you, let us go find her. She gave Sybil one last look and a nod, and said, she would do.