On the day of the auction, Lawrence seemed to have thrown off whatever was troubling him and was cheerful once more. People looked over the horses, checked their teeth and hooves, and watched as they were trotted out to show their paces. I stayed close to Lawrence and resisted the urge to clutch his sleeve as we walked through the bustling crowd. I was dressed in my own breeches, shirt and waistcoat, as Lawrence didn’t want us to be known to everyone by my livery. ‘The price might go up,’ he’d said with a grin.
I knew he was here to look at a specific team that he’d heard were for sale. But the matching chestnuts, when we inspected them, disappointed us both. ‘Showy rather than sound, I’d say,’ said Lawrence quietly in my ear. ‘What do you think, Charlie?’
I ran my hand over one horse’s leg and paused over a small lump on the pastern. The horse flinched very slightly. ‘There might be a problem here,’ I said, straightening up. ‘Or it may be nothing.’
‘I’ll swear that one has a touch of laminitis forming, too,’ said Lawrence with a frown. We stepped back to observe the horses at a distance again.
‘They look good together, I have to admit,’ said Lawrence. ‘Finely matched. But I think two are a trifle short in the back. I’m not convinced they’re a good buy.’ He sighed. ‘It was a long journey for disappointment.’
‘There’s a great deal of interest in them too,’ I pointed out, looking at the crowd milling around. ‘Will that not drive the price up?’
‘It may. It’s always difficult to tell.’
I took the auction list from Lawrence’s hand to glance down it. ‘There are some match bays,’ I said.
Lawrence shook his head. ‘No. They’re too old. I want to invest in some younger animals.’
‘There is a team of greys for sale too,’ I said, pointing at the item on the list. ‘Should we have a look at those?’
‘Greys? I hadn’t noticed. Yes, by all means. I didn’t know you could read, Charlie. A young man of hidden talents.’
I shrugged. How unusual was it for a stable boy to be able to read? Extremely unusual, I supposed, but not so unusual for the son of an officer.
The greys turned out to be four beautifully matched young horses in fine shape. There was a great deal of praise for them until they were driven out as a team. They went poorly together and were a handful. One kept shying and none responded properly to commands. Several potential buyers turned away, shaking their heads, but Lawrence’s eyes gleamed. ‘Just what we were looking for, Charlie!’ he said quietly so as not to be overheard. ‘As far as I can see they are sound and full of potential. But there’s plenty of work to be done to get them pulling well as a team!’
The bidding began at two o’clock. The single horses came up first: hacks, hunters, and some carriage horses. We discussed each one as they were brought forward and trotted out for the crowd. I was enjoying myself. I’d never been to a big auction before and everything was new to me: the speed of the bidding, the way the auctioneer called out the lots and took bids, and the noise and excitement of the crowd when buyers fought to outbid one another.
Lawrence bid on a hunter but pulled out when the price rose too high. He succeeded in buying a nice-looking roan gelding for a good price and looked quietly pleased with himself.
‘I didn’t know you were planning to buy him!’ I remarked once the hammer had struck the gavel and the auctioneer had announced: ‘Sold to the gentleman in the blue coat!’
‘Call it a sudden impulse,’ said Lawrence with a smile. ‘I’ve been considering buying myself a horse for a while. I looked him over earlier while you were admiring that temperamental Arab mare. The price was too good to resist.’
The greys were one of the later lots. Lawrence held back for the first rounds, waiting to gauge who was interested in the team. Bidder after bidder dropped out, and finally only Lawrence and one other were left. I could scarcely breathe for excitement, hoping against hope that he would succeed in purchasing the team.
I looked across at the man bidding against us, who wore a drab coat over an embroidered waistcoat. I wondered how high he would think it was worth going. A face in the crowd caught my eye and instantly I became oblivious to everything else. My heart missed a beat and the blood froze in my veins. It was my father’s killer and his pale eyes were looking straight at me.
I had no idea whether he’d recognized me, but his eyes were narrowed as he stared appraisingly at me and then flicked over my companion. I couldn’t look away; I was transfixed and horrified until the hammer fell. The man turned away and vanished into the crowd. I stood rooted to the spot, scarcely aware that Lawrence was speaking to me.
‘ … to collect the horses and arrange payment. Charlie? Charlie, are you listening to me?’
His hand on my arm brought me back to the present and I looked up at him, dazed and shocked. ‘Are you unwell, Charlie? You look as though you have seen a ghost!’
‘I do feel unwell. I’m sorry. It’s … it’s all the excitement.’
‘Here, why don’t you go back to the inn and order yourself a glass of something?’ said Lawrence reaching into his pocket and pulling out a shilling. ‘I’ll join you when I’m done.’ He offered me the coin, but I shook my head numbly.
‘No, please … I’d much rather stay with you.’
Lawrence looked searchingly at me and replied: ‘Very well then, if you’re sure.’
I stayed as close to him as I decently could as he completed his purchases, producing bills and signing various papers. All the time I kept looking out for the murderer, though I could see no sign of him. I couldn’t stop shaking and it was hard to breathe.
Throughout the summer at Deerhurst, I’d thought myself safe. The memories of that dreadful day had faded along with the paralyzing fear. I’d believed my flight and my disguise had been successful; I thought I’d left no trace of myself behind. Now I was secure no longer. Either the murderer had tracked me despite all I had done, or this was the unluckiest mischance imaginable. If only I’d stayed away from London! I was so easy to trace now. If the murderer had seen me with Lawrence, it would be no difficult task to discover his identity. He could bide his time and pounce at any moment. I thought of my papers, still concealed in the stables at Deerhurst Park. Why did he want them so desperately?
Lawrence arranged for the five horses to be taken to the Castle and Falcon and then hired a hackney cab and took me straight back there. We went into the coffee room and he called for a glass of claret for himself and some tea for me.
‘Sit down, Charlie,’ he ordered me, pushing me into a seat. ‘And tell me what the devil is wrong. No more stories of excitement or tiredness. Either you are ill, or something happened.’
I shivered despite the warmth of the day. ‘I can’t,’ I said, my voice low and almost lost in the hubbub of conversation around us. I cast a wary look over the people nearest us. Any one of them could be a spy, working for that fiendish man. ‘Not here,’ I mumbled. ‘I can’t talk here.’
When the waiter brought our drinks, Lawrence picked up his wine and sipped it. Then he leaned back in his seat watching me. He looked concerned. ‘Wait here a moment,’ said Lawrence suddenly putting down his glass and rising to his feet.
‘No, please!’ I exclaimed grasping his sleeve, forgetting all need for deference and obedience. ‘Don’t leave me alone!’
Lawrence put his hand comfortingly over mine, looking down at me strangely. After a moment he seemed to come to himself and firmly removed my hand from his sleeve. ‘Charlie, don’t be foolish. I’m only going as far as the bar to order the horses to be put to as soon as they arrive. I won’t even go out of sight. Drink!’
I sat back, ashamed of my outburst and sipped my tea while I watched him speak to the inn servants. When Lawrence joined me again, he explained that we would leave within the hour. He said he hoped to put some twenty miles behind us before we stopped for the night. I was relieved to hear we were leaving London almost at once.
‘Will you ride the
new horse, Caspar, for me?’ asked Lawrence. ‘I’ll need to drive the team; they’ll be a handful. I can only hope they won’t repeat Pitch’s shameful display of temper at Hungerford.’
Chatting peaceably, he distracted me from my terrors until the horses were ready. I would have preferred to be in the chaise with him rather than riding beside it, but the murderer could scarcely attack me on the highway in broad daylight.
By the time we pulled up at the Black Boy in Slough, the after-effects of the shock had begun to wear off. I was relieved to hear Lawrence tell the ostlers we would be staying overnight and order a private parlour and a supper for two. ‘Bring a bottle of burgundy up,’ he added.
An aloof landlord showed us into the parlour, clearly considering it both reprehensible and demeaning that my master wished to dine with his groom. I stood discreetly in the shadows while the meal was placed upon the table. When the wine had been uncorked, Lawrence dismissed the waiters and beckoned me to the table. ‘Sit down and get some food in you,’ he told me. ‘Then we’ll talk.’
I could scarcely eat a thing. My stomach was in knots and it was hard to swallow. I sipped very cautiously at the wine. Used only to weak ale, I was afraid it would make me drunk. Even the small amount I took gave me a feeling of recklessness.
‘So,’ said Lawrence, wiping his mouth on a snowy-white napkin and leaning back in his chair. He poured some more wine into his glass and looked up at me. ‘Tell me, what happened at the auction? I presume you accept it is safe to do so here?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ I said gratefully. But to be certain, I rose, tiptoed to the door, opened it, and peeped into the corridor. It was deserted. My fears were making me look mad.
I sat back down and allowed Lawrence to pour a little more wine into my glass. ‘To tell the truth, I do not understand it myself,’ I said. I dared not reveal my father had been murdered. If I did, and Lawrence had read that dreadful notice in the yard of the Castle and Falcon, he might realize who I was and guess that I was a girl. He might hand me over to the authorities, or to the magistrate. I was terrified it was the same thing. The whole world seemed to be against me.
I drew a deep breath. ‘There is someone after me,’ I said, simplifying the tale. ‘He tried to kill me once before but I fled. Today, I saw him at the auction.’
‘Did he recognize you?’
‘I can’t be sure. But he was looking straight at me.’
‘Then we must assume that he did. Calm down, Charlie. No one can hurt you here.’
I bit my lip, trembling. I was no longer certain I was safe anywhere.
‘Why does someone want to kill you, Charlie?’ asked Lawrence. ‘Did you steal from him? Harm him in any way or otherwise break the law?’
I shook my head vehemently. ‘No! I’ve done nothing wrong!’
‘Do you know who it is?’
I shook my head. ‘I only know his face, not his name.’
‘We should go to the authorities,’ said Lawrence with a frown.
‘No!’ I cried before I could stop myself. I took a breath and calmed myself as Lawrence looked at me, startled. ‘No!’ I repeated more calmly. ‘I can’t prove anything. It will make everything worse!’
Lawrence looked at me puzzled and worried. ‘Lord Rutherford will not be pleased if he finds he is harbouring a fugitive,’ he said.
I shook my head. ‘It’s nothing like that, sir.’
‘Charlie, this is important. You must tell me what you know! No secrets now!’
His voice was stern and I quailed. I swallowed hard. ‘I swear I don’t know why he is trying to kill me,’ I said truthfully.
There was a long silence. Lawrence sighed with exasperation. ‘I wish you could find it in yourself to trust me, Charlie,’ he said. ‘I think it would benefit us both.’
‘It’s not that I don’t trust you … ’ I said in a small voice. But of course that was precisely the problem. I trusted no one.
Lawrence drank the rest of his wine and poured another. He offered me more, but I shook my head. He remained sunk in thought a moment longer, then said unexpectedly, ‘Charlie, I cannot possibly let you sleep in the chaise tonight.’ A wry smile crossed his face. ‘It would be most inconvenient for me to lose my stable boy. I’m going to have a truckle bed set up in my room for you to sleep in. I hope you will agree that this is a sensible safety measure?’
The relief that filled me, knowing I would be safely behind a locked door tonight, outweighed any concerns about my virtue. Lawrence believed me a boy, after all.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
Lawrence nodded. ‘Very well. And Charlie?’
‘Yes?’
‘I will not push you to tell me more at this point,’ His voice was still stern and entirely devoid of his usual humour. ‘But I’m losing patience. Please think seriously about when you will tell me whatever it is you are hiding from me.’
I barely slept that night nor the next, which we spent at an inn in Reading. I lay awake, heart beating quickly, my fears crowding in. When I dropped off for a few seconds, the nightmares that haunted me were terrifyingly real.
In the end, afraid of waking Lawrence, I wrapped myself in my sheet and sat up against the wall. I listened to the rise and fall of Lawrence’s breathing as he slept on the other side of the room and it filled me with unutterable sadness. He was so kind, so good. He had taken me from the gutter and installed me at Deerhurst in comfort and safety, surrounded by beautiful horses.
And now it was all over. I couldn’t remain in Lord Rutherford’s service. I was no longer safe there. I needed to disappear without trace; to go to a different part of the country and seek a new life. I shed tears just thinking of leaving. I’d grown to love the place. I adored Belle and worried for her future. I wanted to be there to watch over her. And now this was the end, I could finally admit to myself that I’d fallen in love with Lawrence. I looked at his sleeping form in the semi-darkness of the inn room and longed to go to him; longed to stroke his shoulder, which had escaped the sheet. I wanted to run my fingers through his short hair, now bare of its wig in sleep. But that could never be.
I must seek my fortune elsewhere. I must leave as a boy with no farewell. Lawrence would never even know that I had cared for him. It was the only way. As soon as I reached Deerhurst and retrieved my letters and ring, I would go.
Towards morning on the second night, exhaustion claimed me and I sank into a deep slumber. Lawrence was up before me. I woke as he leaned over me, one hand on my shoulder.
‘Charlie,’ he said as my eyes opened and looked sleepily into his hazel ones. My heart flipped over. ‘What are you doing out of bed?’ he asked. ‘Why are you sleeping sitting up?’
‘Nightmares,’ I replied simply. His hand tightened on my shoulder in sympathy. ‘You look exhausted,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry to have woken you, but we must go.’
He stood up and rang the bell for his shaving water. He’d pulled on his linen shirt that reached to mid-thigh, but was otherwise quite naked. I averted my eyes hurriedly, threw off my sheet, and got to my feet.
‘Have you been sleeping fully dressed, brat?’ demanded Lawrence sitting down and looking at me in the mirror. ‘What an urchin you are!’
I gave him a small smile and hurried to pack my few things together so that I would be ready to leave as soon as Mr Lawrence was.
We breakfasted in the coffee room together in silence and then I ran back upstairs to our room to collect our bags and take them out to the chaise. Lawrence’s wasn’t closed properly and as I picked it up, the things on the top slid out onto the floor. Embarrassed to be handling his personal belongings, I picked up his shaving gear and his clean cravats and shoved them quickly back into the bag. Then I froze, seeing something else had slipped out. It was crumpled and faded, but unmistakable: it was the poster from the yard at the Castle and Falcon. I smoothed it out with trembling fingers, my eyes skimming over the hateful words accusing me of my father’s murder; naming me not as his daughter but as
his servant. So it was Lawrence who had taken this poster down. Why? Had he recognized me and made the connection? If so, why had he said nothing? Once more I felt danger closing tightly around me. I hesitated, wondering whether to destroy the sheet, but decided it was safer to pretend I hadn’t seen it, so I pushed it deep into his bag.
My thoughts during the last stage of our journey were dark and fearful. In my mind, I kept seeing that poster in Mr Lawrence’s bag and wondering why he had taken it.
It was almost dusk as we passed through the lodge gates. Mr Saunders respectfully welcomed Lawrence. As we passed by, I smiled at him, but the look he gave me in return was more puzzled than friendly. My heart sank still further. Mrs Saunders might accept we were related, but he apparently did not.
As we descended the long drive through the park at Deerhurst, we passed a herd of deer, grazing in the meadows. The shy, graceful beasts melted swiftly into the trees at our approach. The whole park lay in beautiful, harmonious peace, so different to the dreadful turmoil inside me. Though I was glad to be back, I had to remind myself that it was no longer my home. I needed to tear myself away again as soon as possible.
‘Good to see you back, sir,’ said Bridges with a welcoming smile as Lawrence drew up the new team in the yard. He ran his eyes over the new horses and admired their points. Wearily, I pulled Caspar up beside the chaise, patted him and slipped down from the saddle. I was stiff, sore, and longing to sleep. But there was work to be done. My livery needed to be changed for working clothes and there were five horses to be unharnessed, groomed, fed, and stabled. Lawrence disappeared, striding off towards the main house, clearly considering me safe now we were home. I wasn’t quite so sure, though it was good to be back.
I’d barely finished grooming the new team, with Ben and Steele’s help, when Susan came tearing around the corner, petticoats flying, and would have flung herself into my arms had I not forestalled her by picking up a bucket of water that Joe had drawn to sluice down the yard, and clutched it to my body in self-defence.
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