purchases for you.”
Aunt Lucy said, “That sounds a very entertaining programme, my dear Julia. I am only sorry that I cannot join you, but I have no intention of confining you to the house just because of my stupid accident.”
So thus it was that Julia found herself in the company of Mr. Hatton without any interruption for the next few days.
Seven
“If you are willing, Miss Maitland, I suggest that we go this morning to the village school that I mentioned to you. My godmother appointed Mrs. Whitaker, the wife of the factor whom she hired to run the farm, to be the teacher.”
“I should be delighted,” said Julia, and she went to get her pelisse and gloves, as the weather was still rather grey.
Mr. Hatton handed Julia up into the curricle, and then went around to the other side to take his place beside her.
Before they started off, Julia said, “This curricle looks to be in very good condition, Mr. Hatton.”
He looked at her without expression, then took the reins for the two horses in his hands before he said, “It has been my only purchase so far since I inherited the estate. My father acquired a curricle for my mother when he bought Norton Place, and she taught me to drive it. You may know that not everyone approves of ladies having to handle two horses in a light carriage, as they think it might be too dangerous, but my father did not agree with that view.”
“So you purchased a curricle as soon as you knew that Morancourt was to be yours?”
He turned his head and looked at her directly for a moment before saying, “No, Miss Maitland, I purchased the curricle from a coach builder in Bath once I knew that you would be coming to Morancourt. It was here waiting for me when I returned from the city last week.”
He hesitated, and then continued, “I wanted to be able to take you out and, if you had not been taught to drive a curricle, hoped that I might be allowed to show you, if you wished that.”
For a few moments, Julia found it very difficult to think of a reply to this.
Finally, trying to speak lightly, she said, “That is one of the nicest surprises that anybody could give me. My father did once let me take the reins of a curricle owned by a friend, but only for a few minutes, and for a very short distance. We do not have one ourselves at Banford Hall.”
“Then my purchase is already worthwhile. Shall we start now?”
And he called to the footman to take his place on the footplate at the rear of the curricle.
Then Mr. Hatton tightened his grip on the reins and they set off along the drive away from the house. The village was about a mile further along the lane down a narrow valley, and Julia admired the way in which he controlled the horses around the sharp bends and down the slope into the village. Once or twice, he glanced at her, perhaps concerned that he might be driving too fast, but Julia found the journey exhilarating and was sorry when they reached the school gate and she had to get out.
The building was a low thatched structure situated next to the church. It had the appearance of a barn, but with a good number of mullioned windows looking out over the street. They walked up the path to the old timber door and, after Mr. Hatton knocked, he gestured her to go first and Julia entered, to find herself in a simple space with a row of desks at one end and the teacher’s table in the centre.
Mrs. Whitaker was sitting at the table, but immediately rose and curtsied to Mr. Hatton. She was a youngish woman, neatly dressed in a blue-grey cotton gown covered by an apron. The children sat wide-eyed in front of her at their desks, looking at the new arrivals. They were between about five and ten years of age, some rather raggedly attired, the boys each with a kerchief knotted around their necks, and the girls wearing aprons.
Mr. Hatton introduced Julia to Mrs. Whitaker, and the teacher gave up her seat to her and invited several of the children to come and sit around them.
“Would it be helpful,” said Julia, “if I told them a short story?”
“Please do, Miss Maitland,” said Mrs. Whitaker, and she stood with Mr. Hatton by her side whilst Julia explained the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. The children were particularly delighted at the animal noises that Julia made at appropriate points in the story, and she could see Mr. Hatton’s considerable amusement at this.
“Now, Mr. Hatton,” said Julia, “it’s your turn.” And he did not need much persuading to tell the children the fable of Cinderella.
After this, some of the girls showed Julia their efforts at needlework, and the boys some models that they had been making. After a few more words with Mrs. Whitaker, the visitors left.
“Did you notice something, Mr. Hatton?” she said as he handed her back into the curricle.
“What was that?” he said, surprised at her tone of voice.
“The boys’ kerchiefs, some of them were made of silk. I would not have expected that in a country area, and when their other clothes were mostly very worn and old.”
“Are you quite sure, Miss Maitland?”
“Yes, quite sure,” she said.
“Perhaps,” he said slowly, “Mrs. Whitaker had cut up some old material for them?”
“Perhaps, but the patterns were not all the same, and the silk material looked new to me.”
Mr. Hatton looked thoughtful as they drove back along the country lane to Morancourt, where they found Aunt Lucy quite content, doing some needlework and with her injured ankle resting on the chaise longue.
“Ah, there you are, Julia,” said her aunt. “A letter came for me whilst you were out. It is from your mother.”
“Oh—is there any news of Papa?”
“Not very much new. He is still resting a good part of the day and, you will be pleased to hear, reading some of the books that you chose for him before you left home.”
“Does Mama say anything about my travelling with you to Morancourt?”
“Well, yes, she does. She just suggests that you would have had better opportunities to meet more young people in Bath.”
Julia made a face, turning her head away as she did so, hoping that Mr. Hatton had not heard or could see her expression. That was a typical comment by her mother, when she was so enjoying herself away from the frivolities and often artificial atmosphere in Bath.
After luncheon, they left Aunt Lucy lying on the chaise longue, collected their outdoor wear, and went out onto the front forecourt of the house.
“I suggest, Miss Maitland, that you take a short turn in the curricle with me now, and try taking the reins. When you are learning, it is always best that the horses are not too fresh. They should be quite calm after our outing this morning to the village school.”
She readily agreed, but was surprised that they did not immediately set off.
“There is one thing that you must always remember about a curricle, Miss Maitland. They may be fast- moving, but they are inherently unstable. So there must always be a servant—a footman or someone else—on the footplate at the back to balance the vehicle. Because of the rush of the wind, he cannot hear our conversation. But without him, we would be at risk of overturning, however carefully we drive.”
And Mr. Hatton waited whilst the footman took his place before they started off. Then followed one of the most enjoyable hours of Julia’s life to date.
Mr. Hatton showed her how to take the reins in her hands and to apply pressure gently to guide the horses first one way and then another, then to bring them smoothly to a halt when she wanted to. To begin with, Julia found this quite difficult, but with practice she found that the horses began to follow her will, and the direction and speed that she wanted.
They took a circuit of the drive from the house past the stables to the gatehouse, and then back to the manor, and then repeated that several times. Finally, Mr. Hatton took the reins again himself and steered the curricle back towards the house. Julia was profuse in her thanks, and was about to get down from the carriage when he asked her to wait for a moment.
