The Emperor by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles Page B

estate tracks. The silence of the yard was growing unnerving to one accustomed to the noise of a town and to being surrounded by servants, and she began to feel absurdly as though something disagreeable might pop out of one of those dark doorways; or at the very least, that someone might come and rebuke her for being here.
    A thud and a shriek close behind her made her jump almost out of her skin, and she had cried out in alarm before she realized that it was only one of the peacocks flying down and landing clumsily. She felt foolish; but her cry had had the effect of bringing a young groom out of the nearest stable door, a brush in his hand and his eyebrows almost in his hair, and though it would be hard to tell which of them was blushing the more violently, it was necessary for her to command the situation.
    ‘ Is Mr Humby about?' she asked. She did not know any of the grooms, but she had heard Humby's name mentioned in connection with the horses.
    ‘ Oh, no, ma'am, he doesn't come up to th'ouse. He's at Twelvetrees,' said the boy in surprise.
    ‘Then who is in charge of the stables here?'
    ‘Mr Hoskins, ma'am, but he's out at the moment. He's over at Twelvetrees as well. There's only me here.’
    Mary Ann considered him. He looked reasonably intelligent. 'Then you will have to do. What is your name?'
    ‘Birkin, ma'am.'
    ‘Very well, Birkin. I want a small open carriage, in which to take a drive about the estate. Is there such a thing in the coach house?’
    The boy thought deeply. 'Master's took his curricle - not that that would be suitable for a lady, ma'am. There's the gig, and the cocking-cart - but they're not very smart. Wait, though - there is something, ma'am, all shrouded up right at the back. It's never used, but from its size and shape, it might be some sort of light phaeton. Shall I have a look, ma'am?’
    In a moment he was in the back of the coach-house, dragging the covers off the vehicle, while Mary Ann stood at the door watching, mindful of her dress. 'I was right, ma'am, it is a phaeton,' he cried, growing less shy as he grew more excited. 'Look - it's a beauty, too, and quite new, I should say - not a scratch on it. I wonder why it's all shrouded up? It seems a shame not to use it.'
    ‘It is suitable?' Mary Ann asked, not able to see much of it from her vantage point.
    ‘I'd say it were made for the job, ma'am,' Birkin said enthusiastically. 'It's right pretty, small, and light as a spiderweb. It's a lady's park-phaeton all right. I wonder -’
    Mary Ann was not interested in his wonderings. 'Is there a horse to draw it? A quiet horse, that I could manage?’
    ‘ There's old Strawberry - he's quiet as a ewe-lamb.' He examined the phaeton more closely. 'This is rigged for a pair - ponies, I should say - but I can soon change that. If I take the shafts off the gig -'
    ‘Very well, Birkin, do so, if you please. Can you drive?'
    ‘Yes, ma'am.'
    ‘Then you shall teach me. Can you have the phaeton ready and the horse put to in half an hour?'
    ‘Well, yes, ma'am - but -'
    ‘Very well. Have it waiting at the door for me.’
    When Mary Ann came down into the hall again, dressed in her habit, and pulling on a pair of York tan gloves, she saw the phaeton waiting for her at the foot of the steps, and looking very smart. Birkin was holding the head of the horse between the shafts, and Mary Ann was pleased to see that the animal looked very quiet, and, being a pink roan, nicely matched the coral-coloured upholstery of the phaeton.
    She was not pleased when Oxhey came hurrying forward, looking anxious, and tried to prevent her from taking the drive she was so much looking forward to, especially as she could make nothing of his incoherent reasons.
    ‘ Really, Oxhey, I cannot understand you. I gave Birkin instructions to make the phaeton ready for me, as I wish to drive in the park. What can you have to object to in that?'
    ‘ Oh, Madam, I only meant - that phaeton you see, Madam, is Mr James's own