Riding In the Sky

by Barbara Cartland

  Moreover, she was sure that he would be highly sceptical and probably would be convinced that she had imagined the whole plot.

  If she told the Marquis and he confronted Lord Seaforth with his intention, as alleged, of drugging Jupiter, his friend would obviously deny it.

  The Marquis would inevitably believe someone he had known for a long time rather than a woman he had only just met.

  Besides, as she was supposed to be only a Pretty Horse-Breaker, she had the feeling that nothing she said would be taken seriously.

  She could, of course, tell Mark, but that was something that she was determined not to do.

  She did not want her brother involved in anything that was disagreeable or unpleasant. It might make the Marquis decide not to invite him to The Hall again.

  It was wonderful for Mark to be able to meet on an equal footing men as important as the Marquis and his friends.

  What was even more important was to have the opportunity of riding such superlative horses.

  How could she possibly spoil that by voicing her suspicions, which she was not really able to substantiate?

  Finally she came to the conclusion that the only thing she could do was to go to the stables at seven o’clock herself.

  She would wait until Lord Seaforth had added the poison to Jupiter’s drinking pail.

  Then she would somehow make certain that the horse did not drink it.

  She might be able to knock it over or something like that.

  She was not at all certain what she should do, but she was sure of one thing, that it was her problem and hers alone.

  It was very late when she fell asleep and she did not hear Mark come into the next room.

  Her last thought was one of anxiety in case, after all, he had gambled away their gains at the Baccarat table.

  Yet even as she worried about him, she heard the Marquis’s deep voice saying,

  “I will look after Mark.”

  She could not explain why, but she knew that she could trust him.

  *

  Filipa awoke as the first pale rays of the sun came creeping through the sides of the curtains.

  She reckoned that it must be about six o’clock.

  It was the time she usually rose at home for the simple reason that there was so much to do in the house and the stables.

  She liked to get what she called her chores over early and then she was free to ride without having a guilty conscience.

  Now she sat up in bed, and then, getting up, looked at the Dresden china clock on the mantelpiece.

  It showed twenty minutes after six. It was later than she usually rose, but she knew that there was plenty of time.

  Without ringing for Emily she started to dress herself.

  Emily had promised that she would bring the habit that Mrs. Meadows had found for her and put it in the wardrobe just in case she wanted to ride early.

  When Filipa opened the wardrobe door, she smiled, because the habit was exactly what she might have expected.

  It was very plain but well-cut, very different from the flamboyant habits worn by the Pretty Horse-Breakers.

  It was in a thin black cloth, cut as severely as a man’s riding jacket might have been and its only ornamentation was a small black velvet collar.

  Hanging beside it was a white lawn blouse, also severely made, fastening demurely at the neck.

  It was just the sort of riding habit that her mother had worn out hunting and what she herself wore.

  The exception being that hers was now threadbare and had never been cut by a fashionable tailor.

  Eagerly she put it on and it fitted her almost perfectly, the tight-fitting jacket accentuating the smallness of her waist.

  With the habit, she found, as she expected, a pair of riding boots that were just a fraction too large but very comfortable. There was also a plain black riding hat with a gauze veil round it.

  When she was dressed, Filipa looked at herself in the mirror and decided that she had never looked smarter or more elegant.

  Although the Pretty Horse-Breakers might sneer at her, she knew that she was wearing exactly what was correct for a female rider who was a lady.

  There was only one thing in the cupboard that she did not put on, and that was the spur, which was lying beside the left boot.

  She pushed it to one side, thinking once again that she would never ride any animal with a spur.

  Although the Pretty Horse-Breakers might find it essential, she and Mark had beaten them all yesterday without using either a spur or a whip.

  Then Filipa realised that she now had to face the problem that had got her up so early.

  She felt frightened of what she would find when she reached the stable.

  It was two minutes past seven o’clock as she went down the stairs to find the housemaids and the footmen busy in the hall.

  They smiled at her when she appeared, wishing her ‘Good morning’.

  She stopped the footman she had asked last night to clear up the broken glass and enquired,

  “How is Henry this morning?”

  “He says he slept well, miss, and he isn’t in any pain.”

  “Tell him I will re-bandage his hand when I come back from the stables,” Filipa said. “I am going now to see the horses.”

  “I’ll tell Henry and it’s ever so kind of you, miss,” the footman said.

  She had the feeling as she walked out of the house that the other servants were looking at her in a different manner than they had yesterday.

  She was glad that she had been brave enough to defy the Marquis and tell him that Lord Seaforth was unjustified in accusing Henry of being incompetent.

  ‘He is a horrible man and what he is trying to do now is wicked,’ Filipa reflected.

  At the same time she was frightened – frightened that she had, after all, been mistaken.

  She was frightened too that Lord Seaforth would somehow contrive to poison the Marquis’s horse and she would be unable to prevent it.

  She was equally apprehensive that something might happen that would hurt Mark.

  She walked very slowly towards the stables, feeling the morning sun on her face.

  She was thinking if it was not for these problems, it would be a very happy day.

  She was not far from the stable yard when she saw Lord Seaforth come out and start to walk away in the direction of the house.

  By moving quickly behind a clump of lilac bushes, Filipa made sure that he had not seen her.

  She guessed that he was hurrying back so that, when he went into breakfast, there would be no reason for anyone to know that he had been to the stables.

  She waited until he was out of sight.

  Then she moved forward and saw that a gutter ran down the side of the cobbled stones.

  There was some mud in the bottom of the gutter and she deliberately stepped into it.

  She dirtied the heels of her riding boots and then she crossed the yard to enter the stable, where she was sure that Jupiter would be.

  She found him in the first stall and she thought as she looked through the bars that he was one of the most magnificent horses she had ever seen.

  There was something noble about the carriage of his head and his body was perfectly proportioned.

  In fact he might have been a horse belonging to a God on Mount Olympus.

  ‘How could anyone hurt anything so beautiful?’ Filipa asked herself angrily.

  Opening the stall, she went inside.

  She patted Jupiter and he moved towards his manger, which was filled with the oats he was having for breakfast.

  They must have just been put there by the stable boys and his pail of water had been filled at the same time.

  Filipa could hear the lads moving down the long line of horses and she was aware that the occupant of each stall was being fed and watered in the same way.

  She looked quickly over her shoulder to make sure that no one was watching.

  Then she wiped her dirty boot
s on some straw and deliberately threw it into the pail of water.

  She had only just done so when a groom appeared to say,

  “Mornin’, miss. I sees you’re admirin’ Jupiter.”

  “He’s magnificent!” Filipa replied. “I am sure that the Marquis will win the big race on him.”

  “We be all sure of that!” the groom answered. “Even though his Lordship says he be a-goin’ to handicap himself.”

  “I think that is very sporting of him,” Filipa answered and then she gave a little cry.

  “Oh! How careless of me!”

  “What is it, miss?”

  “I had some mud on my boots when I came in and I wiped them off with straw. Quite by mistake I have thrown one into Jupiter’s pail.”

  The groom moved into the horse’s stall and, seeing the mud and straw, picked up the pail.

  “Don’t you worry, miss,” he said. “I’ll soon clean it and get him some fresh water.”

  “Please wash it out carefully,” Filipa admonished him. “I could not bear to think that I had inadvertently given Jupiter something that might upset him.”

  The groom laughed and went outside.

  Filipa could hear him tipping the pail into the gutter, running the tap in the yard and then washing the pail.

  She held her breath as she listened in case he was careless about it.

  But he rinsed out the pail several times before he brought it back filled with fresh water.

  “I am sorry to give you this extra trouble,” she said apologetically.

  “There be no harm done,” the groom replied. “If I were you, miss, I’d put some money, if you have any, on Jupiter. That’s what we’re all a-doin’.”

  “As I don’t bet, I shall just say a prayer,” Filipa answered him, “that Jupiter will carry his Master to a splendid victory.”

  “I be sure your prayers are always answered, miss,” the groom grinned.

  She thought that it would be a mistake to linger too long in Jupiter’s stall, as Lord Seaforth might come back to make sure that the stallion was drinking the drugged water.

  She therefore went into each stall in turn, patting its occupant.

  She thought that Hercules was looking well and so was Skylark.

  But she told herself that, although she wanted to ride, she had no wish to beat the Pretty Horse-Breakers again.

  She could not bear to upset them more than they were already.

  It was unfortunate that Lulu was so unpleasant to her, considering how much she mattered to Mark.

  At the same time Filipa had to admit that she was really more beautiful and more attractive than any of the other women.

  And she could understand in a way what her brother felt about her.

  Yet she was sure that her mother would have been distressed by it and would want Mark to associate with ladies.

  Eventually he must fall in love with a really nice girl he could marry.

  ‘And if he did, what would they live on?’ she asked herself.

  There was no answer to that question.

  She spent a long time in the stables, not only looking at the horses in the first building but also in the others.

  Eventually she reached the building where the Marquis kept his carriage horses and the teams he drove in his chaise.

  They were so perfectly matched that Filipa wondered how the grooms knew how to put them each in his own stall, where they had their names written over the manger.

  She thought as she looked at them how much she would love to go driving with the Marquis.

  It would be thrilling to see him manage a four-in-hand as well as he managed Jupiter.

  It was nearly nine o’clock when she went back to the house.

  She found, as she hoped, that most of the guests had finished breakfast.

  The Pretty Horse-Breakers naturally all had breakfast in their own rooms.

  She was just choosing something to eat from the long line of dishes on the side table when Mark came in.

  “Good morning, Filipa,” he said.

  Then he quickly looked over his shoulder as he remembered that he should have called her ‘Fifi’.

  Fortunately the two gentlemen who had been in the room when Filipa came in had just left.

  She smiled as she replied,

  “It’s safe for the moment, but do be careful.”

  “Is there anything to eat?” Mark asked.

  As he spoke, he walked towards the dozen silver entrée dishes all full of delicious food and kept hot by candles beneath them.

  Filipa laughed at the joke and said,

  “Are you hungry or did you drink too much last night?”

  “I drank very little,” Mark replied. “I was playing piquet with the Marquis and, as you know he does not drink, so I had to follow his example.”

  Filipa felt her heart give a leap of joy.

  “You played with the Marquis?”

  “Yes, he organised a rather amusing competition amongst four of us. We each played against the other in turn and scored on points.”

  “And what was the prize?” Filipa asked nervously.

  “To his satisfaction, the Marquis was the winner, but as it happens, I was quite a good second.”

  “And no money passed hands?”

  “Not a penny. The Marquis said that he did not like taking money from his guests, so there was no question after that of there being any wagers over the game.”

  Filipa said a little prayer of thankfulness in her heart.

  She sat down at the table to eat a good breakfast.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked Mark.

  “You can ride in the first race at ten o’clock,” he answered, “and I am riding in the big race at eleven.”

  “Are there prizes for that?”

  “Of course,” he said, “but I should think that there is hardly any point in putting money on the Marquis as he will be heavily odds on.”

  “I should keep your money in your pocket,” Filipa said. “Something terrible might happen and. if he did not win, a lot of people would lose their shirts.”

  Mark smiled at the slang phrase.

  “You are right,” he said, “but personally, as long as I can ride Hercules against horses that are his equal, with the exception of Jupiter, I am very happy.”

  “Are you riding again in the afternoon?”

  “I shall take advantage of the Marquis’s offer of one of his horses,” Mark said. “God knows I may never have a chance like this again.”

  “That is what I keep thinking,” Filipa answered, “and I am so comfortable here waited on hand and foot.”

  Mark looked at her as if he noticed her for the first time.

  “You are looking very ladylike,” he said rather anxiously.

  “I cannot help it,” Filipa answered. “The housekeeper found this habit for me and she made it clear that it was very unsuitable for a Pretty Horse-Breaker.”

  Mark laughed and then he said,

  “Perhaps nobody will notice you, but you certainly look different from the others.”

  Filipa was very conscious of the difference when half an hour later they drove in the brake down to the Racecourse.

  The Pretty Horse-Breakers were even more resplendent than they had been the day before.

  Lulu was wearing a habit of white silk, the only splash of colour being a scarlet gauze veil around her hat.

  There was, of course, a sharp-pointes spur on her left boot.

  And Filipa was sure that the horse she was riding would be bleeding before the end of the race.

  When they reached the Racecourse, they found, as Mark had anticipated, that there was to be a ladies’ race at ten o’clock.

  Besides the Pretty Horse-Breakers, there were several horsey young women from the County who eyed them with contempt.

  What, however, was embarrassing was that they accepted Filipa as one of themselves.

  As they were getting into position at the start, one of them said
to her,

  “I have never seen such a circus before! Bet you they all fall at the first fence.”

  Filipa smiled to herself.

  She realised that the country lady had obviously never heard of the Pretty Horse-Breakers and she was as ignorant of them as she had been.

  She knew, however, that strange or fantastic as they might look, they were all, in point of fact, magnificent riders.

  The race began and Filipa deliberately kept Skylark on a tight rein.

  Lulu was pushing ahead, at the same time taking the first fence in a style that no one could help admiring.

  The second time round the course the country entries were straggling behind and it was then that Filipa could not restrain Skylark any longer.

  As they reached the last three fences, she let him have his head.

  He sailed over them as if he was emulating his name and had wings.

  Although she did not intend it, she found that she was taking the last fence at the same time as Lulu.

  Both of them were well ahead of the rest of the field.

  By now it would have been impossible to pull Skylark in, even if she had wished to do so.

  She merely rode him, aware that Lulu was using her whip and her spur in order to keep up.

  They finished the race side by side.

  As they rode down the field, both slightly breathless, as were their horses, Lulu said,

  “I’ll kill you if you say you’ve beaten me this time!”

  “I think it was a dead heat,” Filipa replied.

  She was quite right and the Marquis confirmed it when they returned to the Winning Post.

  Lulu accepted it with bad grace, but Filipa knew that Mark was delighted.

  He came up to her to say quietly,

  “Well done! That is another one hundred guineas!”

  “I don’t believe it!” Filipa gasped.

  She had forgotten to ask what the stakes were and she thought now that nothing could be more wonderful.

  Then, fearing that even now the money might vanish on some extravagance, she asked,

  “When are we leaving?”

  “Not a moment before we have to,” Mark replied. “As a matter of fact, I think that everyone is going back to London tomorrow morning.”

  “Would it not be wise for us to go tonight?” Filipa asked.

  “No, I am damned if I will!” Mark replied.