Episode 63

The Blackpool Train

The most remarkable aspect of her father’s inheritance, in Arabella’s opinion, was that the estate had its own rail stop, complete with train station, along a spur off the Cockermouth-Penwith line. It was a narrow-gauge track built to transport iron ore down to the coast and then on to Blackpool. But a passenger train ran on the tracks twice a week.

The Huntoun holdings were indeed remote. They included thousands of acres of farm and orchard and woods that employed hundreds of tenant farmers. The estate grounds included the town of Brigham-on-Dee and a small farm village called Clydon. The manor house was only one of dozens of buildings under the care and management of her father. There were stables and barns and guest cottages. The carriage house down by the Brigham-Clydon road was five times the size of the officer’s bungalow she and her father shared back in the Punjab.

But the fact that they owned a private stop along even as pokey a railway as the Cockermouth-Penwith impressed Arabella more than any other aspect of the privileges of nobility.

She was out riding with the subedar in attendance. Arabella rode Major, her jet-black Arabian. Rahul, as always, struggled to keep up on a sturdy gray that was, like the Ghurkha, built more for stamina than speed. The subedar was not a natural horseman. Like the other men of his regiment, Rahul was more accustomed to traveling on foot no matter how challenging the terrain. As he often stated, the only use he could find for a horse was to carry away the wounded and the dead. Still, he gamely joined Arabella on her frequent pleasure rides. She suspected this was at the request of her father.

They were traveling across a grassy lea when Arabella spotted the column of smoke rising from approaching train. The tracks ran along the floor of a deep cut that crossed the estate near its northern border.

She spurred Major to greater speed to follow along the path of the locomotive chugging along, invisible, down in the trench where the grading lay. The wind of her progress whipped her hair about her face. The Arabian was plunging perfectly, and she matched his every motion as though they were one. It was a race with the machine, and she intended on winning. The subedar lagged further and further behind, bouncing in the saddle and hugging the gray’s neck.

Arabella reined in the horse as she heard the rhythm of the locomotive change. A hissing sound rose from the cut as the trail of smoke began to thin. The bell aboard the engine sounded and the brakes squealed loud enough to raise a flight of partridges from a copse of trees that grew on the other side of the tracks.

The Blackpool train was coming to a stop at their station.

She was most curious to learn the reason that the Wednesday afternoon train came to an unscheduled stop at the little Tudor hut that served as a station house for Huntoun Manor.

The Subedar caught up with her as she slowed Major to turn onto the crushed stone path that led down to the station house. She dismounted to lead her horse on foot. With a sigh of gratitude, Rahul Mushar did the same. They came upon Geoffrey Pike coming up the path carrying a grip. He waved a gloved hand and called a greeting that was drowned out by the sounds of the locomotive building steam once more and pulling the loudly clanging passenger cars away from the station siding.

“Was my father expecting you?” Arabella said when he had come close enough for conversation.

“I wired him yesterday,” Geoffrey answered.

“He didn’t tell me.”

“I thought he might have as you’ve come to the station to meet me.”

“Pure happenstance.”

“Perhaps the gentleman would like to ride to the manor house with you,” Rahul said.

“And leave you on foot?” Arabella said.

“As I am more accustomed to traveling,” the subedar said, handing the reins of the gray to Geoffrey. “Begging your pardon, memsahib, but I would prefer to eat this horse rather than ride it another mile.”

“Most appreciated, subedar,” Geoffrey said.

“As you wish.” Arabella reached out to take hold of the gray’s bridle while Geoffrey mounted.

“Are you consumed with curiosity at the nature of my visit?” Geoffrey said as they rode side by side at an easy pace.

“I assume it’s something to do with yours and father’s lizards.”

“You shouldn’t dismiss your father’s scientific pursuits so lightly as that.”

“Perhaps it’s your pursuits I find worthy of ridicule.” She cast a sly glance his way. Her dimple made a brief appearance.

“Is that meant to be taken as an entendre, m’lady?” He grinned openly.

“Take it in any manner you wish,” she said and heeled her mount to greater speed leaving Geoffrey behind in a shower of clotted turf.

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