Langdown Manor by Sue Reid

tell anyone, but I’m dreading it. I’ve been practising how to curtsy for nearly a year and I still cannot rise without wobbling.’
    â€˜Neither can I,’ I said.
    â€˜I’ve even had dreams in which I trip over my train and fall at the King’s feet.’
    â€˜Down, down, down,’ I mimicked Madame’s voice. ‘Hold the pose. Now – fall over.’
    Flo laughed. ‘I usually do!’
    I laughed with her. But I kept to myself that I found the whole thing rather silly. I didn’t think she’d feel the same.
    In spite of Flo I was almost relieved when the carriage came to collect us. One viper was better than a whole nest. We rode back in silence. Arabella didn’t make any attempt to talk to me, and I didn’t want to talk to her. I leaned against the cushioned back and kept my eyes fixed on the window. Why did she resent me so much? The dislike we felt for each other seemed to grow and grow until I felt as if there was hardly enough room in the carriage for both of us. As the carriage swung through the lodge gates and began to ascend the drive I felt more and more depressed. The lights had been turned on in the house. It should have been welcoming, but it wasn’t. They felt like little eyes, mocking me. Here you are, unwelcome one . The carriage stopped and I felt it shake slightly as the footman who’d escorted us jumped down. He opened the door for us, holding up an umbrella to shelter us from the rain, though it was hardly raining at all by then. Arabella got out first and I stood to follow her. The footman took my hand and I stepped out. On the bottom step I hesitated. I didn’t want to follow Arabella in. I didn’t want to be within a hundred miles of her. Arabella had done her best to wreck the afternoon. I’ll go to the stables, I thought. I hadn’t been able to ride, but I could still go to the stables. If I hurried, I might be in time to say goodnight to Starshine before the stalls were locked for the night. I felt the misery begin to slip off me. I felt at home at the stables, which I never did in the house. The footman was still standing there patiently, the umbrella held over my head. I didn’t want him to see me run round to the stables. I had to think of a way to get rid of him. ‘Don’t wait for me,’ I said. ‘I think I dropped my bracelet round here earlier. I’ll stay outside and look for it.’ I bent down, and poked at the gravel, pretending to search for it.
    â€˜I’ll help you, miss.’
    â€˜There’s no need. I’m sure I’ll find it soon.’ Go, please go.
    â€˜Very good, miss.’ He folded the umbrella. The crunch of his footsteps on the gravel grew fainter. He must have thought me mad.
    I waited until the carriage had gone. Then I walked round to the stables. It was nearly dark but there was plenty of light from the house to help me find my way – not that I needed it. I knew the way so well now that I could have found it in the dark if I’d had to. At the gate I ducked down quickly – the coachman was in the yard talking to one of the grooms. I waited until I heard him say goodnight and slipped back out of sight as he came up to let himself out of the gate. When I could no longer see him, I crept back again. The yard was empty now. The horses had been bolted in for the night, and lights had come on in some of the rooms up above the stables. What did I think I was I doing? I was about to turn away when a lantern flashed full in my face. I blinked.
    â€˜Miss Penelope! What are you doing here?’ It was Fred. He looked astonished. ‘I thought we had an intruder,’ he said, lowering the lantern.
    I certainly felt like one the way he was looking at me.
    I felt an idiot, too. I wanted to explain, but I couldn’t think what to say. He’d think me mad. I winced, imagining him talking about me to the servants. What would they say? What