Feral Park (22 page)

“She did not!”

“Aye, but she did. And in very short order a school of sorts was begun and a number of the male residents of Reading went eagerly one day a week to their ‘lessons’ with Miss Younge. It was her day off from her duties as governess to a family there, but there was no rest and repose for the wielder of the correcting paddle! In that special school she had set up there may have been little reading and very little writing but there was a great deal of discipline inflicted upon grown men on their bare proffered behinds, and a strange and palpable delight taken by each of them, as my husband tells me. Some wept, others laughed and cawed like rooks, and there were even those who wept and laughed in curious simultaneity.”

“But I still cannot understand—”

“My husband and I have developed a theory: that the experience freed each of the men from the ghost of Mrs. Holford by turning the despicable act into one in which they regained command and control of their own bare bottoms and thereby regained command and control of their very own lives. We dare think that should Mr. Tillman Scourby, Esq., secure from Miss Younge a good spanking or two upon his bum, that he may never again find himself weeping in solitude in an empty field. That is our strong supposition.”

“It heals them, then, to subject themselves to that which injured them in the first place?”

“Perhaps not in all cases, but certainly in most. There may be one or two who take the whipping as punishment anew for having allowed themselves to be so humiliated in the first place. The mind is indeed a very strange organ! There may even be the rare man who upon meeting Miss Younge and upon learning of the service she is willing to provide finds a dark need within himself to do exactly to
her
what was done previously to
himself
. But I should not think Sir Thomas to be of that brand.”

“Although,” said Mr. Epping with a tilt of the head in the direction of Turnington Lodge, “there was something amiss within that house which sent the previous governess Miss Pulvis away at an instant and under great distress. I saw her myself early the morning of her quitting the Lodge, running through Berryknell with a look of great terror upon her face.”

“Husband, why did you not tell me of this?”

“Because I surmised at the time of my observation that she was merely outrunning a mangy cur, which must have seen a biscuit drop from her pannier, and was desirous of a tasty breakfast. But it was only this morning that I learnt the true reason for her apparent flight. I was told by—why, I was told by Miss Peppercorn’s very own lady’s maid, Miss Leeds!—for it was she whose open arms had closed round the frightened woman and she who had calmed and soothed her there in the dawn-lit street. According to Miss Leeds, the look of fear
I
had seen had nothing to do with a hungry dog and every thing to do with Sir Thomas.”

Anna thought to herself: “Miss Leeds did not tell
me
any of this. I must ask her this very evening just what was said by Miss Pulvis. I will find out, as well, if Mr. Epping is telling me the truth about Sir Thomas’ complicity.”

Mrs. Epping again picked up the thread of the discourse: “Now I suppose you are wondering if Mr. Epping himself was ever enrolled in ‘Miss Younge’s School of Applied Discipline.’”

“Well, the thought
had
—”

“Calm yourself, husband; we agreed that Anna should know the whole of it. The answer is yes. But in my husband’s defence, I must say that since the time of his matriculation, he has been subjected to far fewer nightmares than before. Two or three more paddlings may be all that is required to banish the evil memory of the former actions from his recessed thoughts altogether!”

“And was
this
, then, the reason that Miss Younge was fired by Mr. Matlock? Because he came to learn of the school and its odd purpose? Was this the cause for her removal?”

“Oh, dear me,” replied Mrs. Epping. “It was a far more complicated matter than that, as I have learned. Her employer attended the Bath school himself, and was, in fact, its star pupil! It was whilst Miss Younge was here visiting Thistlethorn that the wife came to enquire of her husband why one day each week, and always on his governess’ day off, he would return home with a reluctance to sit down for two or three hours and yet was not at all troubled by the inconvenience. In fact, it was the private smile upon his face that was to prove his undoing, for he could construct no other reason than the true one as explanation for it, and once the trespass was confessed, the terms which would preserve the couple’s marriage required that Miss Younge be promptly dismissed from her service to the Matlocks, and that she never return to Bath.”

“And do you think that it is Miss Younge’s purpose to start such a paddling school here in Payton Parish?”

“Oh, I have no doubt that it is, Miss Peppercorn! If for no other reason than that there is very good money to be made from such an enterprise. And it is my guess that Sir Thomas would most readily allow it somewhere upon his acreage in Turnington Lodge and fully endorse it.”

“And why do you say this?”

Turning to her husband, “May I tell Miss Peppercorn the rest of it?”

Mr. Epping nodded his consent.

“I know this for the following reason: Sir Thomas once came to me when I was an unmarried ward of Mr. Epping, to ask if I would paddle him upon his behind. I was to put rouge upon the cheek and powder and prettify myself and I must assume the guise of the very fetching Mrs. Holford when she was young, and this was the role which I was asked to perform for a fee.”

“And
did
you perform what was asked?”

Shewing offence over the question, Mrs. Epping harrumphed most audibly. “I most certainly
did not
. Mr. Epping will gainsay on my behalf.”

Mr. Epping joined the disavowal with a nod.

“I mention it only to give evidence to Sir Thomas’ sustained interest in this area.”

Anna thought over all that she had been told and then said, “As no law has been broken in the county, and it is no business of mine who chuses to be spanked or not be spanked, why have I been so meticulously informed about it?”

“There is no law to my knowledge, for I do not believe laws to have ever been written in the county of Hampshire which prevent a woman laying a ferule upon the exposed buttocks of a man willingly pretending to be a schoolboy, but I tell you it all, Miss Peppercorn, because you will probably bear some responsibility if Miss Younge opens a school here, for you will have facilitated it through your own offices.”

“There is also an additional reason which has just been told to me by Miss Peppercorn,” said Mr. Epping to his wife. “I have learnt that her father is drawn to Miss Younge in more than a paternal way.”

“I knew this already,” said Mrs. Epping with a dismissive flick of the hand. “I learnt of the attachment from a Thistlethorn servant’s report of the long period in which the two played backgammon the other night and how it was that Mr. Peppercorn looked more into the eyes of his opponent than upon the pieces on the board, and I should think, as should you, that it would break his heart to know that she participates in, nay,
organises
such activity as that which we have discussed. Perhaps if they marry she will hang the ferule upon a wallhook and vow never to take it down again. But what if one day a man comes to the door—one man? nay, two or three, or a squadron of men over time— come to Feral Park and ask for a private interview with Mrs. Peppercorn for the purpose of seeking from her for a guinea that special service. Perhaps she would feel inclined to offer it for no compensation whatsoever given the warm feeling it brings to her heart, or even if she should refuse, what is to prevent the following dialogue being overheard by your father with only the greatest mortification to result? Elwood, husband: play the role of the one who comes to the door.”

“We are to do a play?”

“A short one only for the purpose of informing Miss Peppercorn.”

“Very well. Knock knock.”

“Good day, Mr. Wilcox.”

“I should like, dear Lucy, to be a colonel in the play if I may.”

“Be a colonel then.”

“Call me Colonel Niblett. Knock Knock.”

Pretending to open the door: “Good day, Colonel Niblett.”

“Good day to you, Mrs. Peppercorn. I recollect that it has been four years and six months since you last paddled me rump. Pray, do it again, madam.”

“Nay, sir. As I am now the respectable mistress of Feral Park, I no longer take the whip to naughty boys.”

“This is a most dismal discovery.”

“I am sorry, Colonel Niblett, but my good husband will no longer allow it.” (Turning to Anna with a smile.) “Nor will his daughter Anna. As the Book of Ecclesiastes tells us: there is a season for all things. And the season for paddling has, alas, now come and gone.”

“May I then enter not for the purpose of being paddled, but so that we should sit by the fire and warmly recall those gay and halcyon days of the dancing ferule?”

“I suppose there would be no harm in that.” Now removing herself from the part: “But there certainly
would
be harm in such a scene, would there not, Miss Peppercorn? To have men coming and sitting in the Feral Park drawingroom and sipping tea and eating cake whilst discussing those glorious days, which smarted yet delighted! How would your father ever permit such exchanges—and if by some odd chance he
should
, it would be due only to his deep affection for his wife and a desire to make
her
happy, even if sacrifice be required and even as it mortifies
him
, and it all should be most unhealthy for the marriage, I should think.”

“I understand perfectly. What is it, then, that
I
should do?”

“If I were you, I would go to Miss Younge and tell her of your father’s interest in her, unless she knows it already. Does she know it already?”

“I do not think she knows how
strong
are his feelings for her.”

“Yet she must be told. She must also be told that you know exactly what she has done, and what she
may
do in Payton Parish, and you must impress upon her the fact that whilst your Papa may forgive what has been done by her in the past, he will
not
approve what could occur by her hand in the very near future.”

“Even though
you
support the good that the paddling does?”

“My husband and I support
more
the peace of the parish and the happiness and well-being of your kind father than anything else.”

“And how may I make my case to her if she is to cite—as you have—its benefit to most of the men who enrol?”

“You must stress the point that your father will be terribly discomfited by the activity. You could also suggest that she may assist another in setting up the school but she should not by any means swing the paddle herself.”

“I still do not understand why the happiness and well-being of my father and, of course, me by extension, should matter so much to you.”

“The answer is simple, Miss Peppercorn. You and Mr. Peppercorn are the only two people within the entire parish who do not think us mad.”

“This cannot be true.”

“But indeed it is. Everyone but yourselves thinks us madder than a raving bedlamite, and this society includes even Mrs. Drummond, who herself once chased a pig through the streets of Smithcoat Village dresst only in her shift.”

“’Tis true, Mrs. Epping, that neither I nor my father has ever thought you mad. For you do not, as a rule,
appear
mad. On the paddling matter, for example, you appear cogent and well-informed.”

“So you believe all that my husband and I have told you?”

“Why should I not?”

“You should not if we should be mad. If we should be mad, my husband and me, then there exists the strong possibility that none of what we have said could be true.”

“I own that you are odd, Mrs. Epping, and you as well, Mr. Epping. But not mad.”

“Then you
do
believe us.”

“I suppose I must.”

“Because when you speak to Miss Younge, if she deny it, then she will say it is because we are mad.”

“But did you not tell me that you are
not
mad?”

“I did not. What I said, in fact, was that you do not
think
us mad. For if I am not mad I can easily
say
I am not mad but if I
am
mad I can also easily say that I am not mad. And if I am mad I can be of no help whatsoever on this account.”

“I am now totally confused, Mrs. Epping, and my head hurts.”

“I believe as best as I understand my mind and the mind of my husband that we are
not
mad. We are indeed odd, though, as you have said. I fall into wells and make funny bonnets and we eat gruel more often than most, but upon my honour, I am conveying the truth when I speak about Miss Younge and her schools, and perhaps I am at worst—
should
I indeed be mad—one of those madwomen who imparts truth and wisdom through the fuzzy cheesecloth of her insanity. And that will not undermine our purpose either, will it?”

“I am at a loss to know just
how
to answer that question. And my head does very much hurt. James! James! I have a terrible headache, James. We must go. Goodbye to you, Mrs. Epping, and goodbye to you, Mr. Epping, and thank you so much for the bonnet. I will wear it often.” Things were coming detached and dropping from the bonnet but it was no matter to Anna, who wanted only to take her leave.