The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley

by Aileen Fish

  “Run, come on,” Knightwick called out.

  Triton closed on Patriot. A neck behind, then his nose reached Patriot’s ear. He continued to surge. At the line, Triton’s head was fully out front. The judge called Fernleigh’s colors as the winner. David threw his hat up in the air. “Yes! He did it!”

  He and his brother clapped each other on the back. “Good run,” Knightwick said, his voice thick with pride. “Father will be pleased.”

  Yes, they had more good news for their father. David accepted the congratulations of the people around him, then told his brother he’d return shortly. He led Nemo across the lane in search of Edwards, and found him not far from where he’d watched the race, now in the shade of a large horse-chestnut tree.

  As David approached, Edwards called out, “Congratulations, Lumley. That’s a fine runner you have this year.”

  “Thank you. We’re quite pleased with Triton. He’s nowhere near where Zephyr was as a three-year-old, but he’s good.”

  “There aren’t many like Zephyr,” Edwards agreed. “How’s Bridgethorpe faring? I never see him at the race meetings.”

  “No, he hasn’t felt up to attending.” David held back the full details, not comfortable sharing them with just anyone.

  “And what of his nephew, the Lumley boy who bought his colors?”

  “Stephen was injured and came home from the war last year, just after his parents died.”

  Edwards nodded, stroking his chin. “I’d forgotten about that, your family’s loss. Poor lad. I don’t believe I’ve met him, but the wife knew his mum. Has Stephen healed now?”

  “As much as possible. You may tell Mrs. Edwards he is marrying soon and making a new life for himself.”

  “She’ll be glad to hear it.”

  David steered the conversation in the direction he’d come to discuss. “Did you hear about the groom who died at the First Spring meeting?”

  “I did. My wife worried I brought home some horrible illness when she heard.”

  “Did they decide his death was natural?”

  Edwards’ mouth pursed to one side and he scratched behind his ear. “Can’t say if I’ve heard what he died of.”

  “I was more concerned he might have been poisoned. Someone either wanted him dead, or he accidentally drank what was meant for one of the horses.”

  “You think someone is killing our runners? I know they decided the water was tainted at Chester last year, but they never came out and said who they thought the target was.”

  “Two of our horses were sickened, along with three others. And Zephyr was poisoned years ago. I think the target is pretty obvious.”

  Edwards frowned. “I hate to think someone out there is killing perfectly sound horseflesh. What are you planning to do about it?”

  David shrugged. “There isn’t much I can do unless they solve that groom’s murder. In the meantime, I’m asking around to see if anyone has heard anything.”

  “I’ll keep an ear open and let you know if I do.”

  “I appreciate it.” The sound of a horn rang out in the distance calling the next entrants to the starting post. David nodded to the older man. “Please give your wife our best. I know my mother would send it.”

  “And you carry the same back to her, and tell Bridgethorpe his old chum misses him at the meetings. Good luck with Triton, he’s a good sound runner.”

  David urged Nemo across the lane to fill in Knightwick on what he’d learned. When his brother returned home after the races, he could inform their father they were going to hunt down Zephyr’s killer one way or another. And with any luck, Father would find some joy in his life again.

  If asked later about the ride to London after the Goodwood race, David was not certain he could have described the weather, the road, or anyone he and Knightwick might have passed along the way. His head was in the clouds with Triton’s win. He glanced at his brother, whose face also gleamed with pleasure. “I must school my features before I see Mother, or she’ll think I’m in prime form to be introduced to the daughters of her friends.”

  “She hasn’t already done so? How have you avoided that?”

  “I’m not quite certain. She seems more concerned with making certain Hannah meets the right men.”

  “Or perhaps she thinks you’ve already met the right young lady.”

  David frowned. “There you go again. I’ve already stated my feelings toward her.”

  “You gave me all the reasons why you and Lady Joanna would not suit, but not once did you deny your attraction.”

  Opening his mouth to do just that, David found the words stuck in his craw. He coughed. “How could I not be attracted? She’s lovely, vivacious. Do you know, at the First Spring Meeting she tried to convince Northcotte to let her ride Patriot when her groom took ill?”

  Knightwick chuckled. “She sounds like Hannah. That could prove quite a handful as a wife. I think I’d prefer someone more refined.”

  “A hothouse lily, you mean? You don’t think that would grow dull?” “With all the ups and downs of running an estate, quiet, tedious evenings would be refreshing.”

  He supposed he could understand the sentiment, but the excitement coursing through him at the moment kept him from finding it appealing. “I enjoy the challenges that arise at Fernleigh. I realize one stud property doesn’t compare to all of Father’s lands. But I think having a wife who is always agreeable would get dull.”

  “Be careful what you ask for…”

  “Just to be clear, I’m not looking for a harpy.” David wiped at the sweat trickling down his hairline.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I haven’t given it a whole lot of thought. Mother mentioned a horsewoman such as Lady Joanna would suit me well.”

  “You had this discussion with Mother? What were you thinking?” Knightwick cast him a shocked glance.

  “She brought it up. I think she was trying to discern my intentions.”

  “She opened the door and you walked through. You realize once you crossed that threshold you can’t go back. In Mother’s eyes, you are seeking a wife now.”

  David grimaced. “But I’m not. I’ve no need for one. You aren’t married yet.”

  “That has no bearing on your life. It’s an excuse. Why are you waiting?”

  There was a good question. Why was not he considering marriage, now that he’d met a lady who would fit so perfectly into his life? The quick and easy answer arose: the conflict between his family and hers. But was that enough to keep them apart?

  They weren’t the Montagues and Capulets. Their fathers had never come to blows, or exchanged cross words in the years David had attended race meetings with Father. At most, harsh glares punctuated their lack of conversation.

  Only one thing potentially stood between him and Lady Joanna. “What if Northcotte refuses to give his blessing?”

  “Then you must decide whether to sneak off to Gretna Green or walk away from her.” Knightwick shifted in his saddle, stretching his legs. “But once more you are avoiding the only question that matters. Do you love the lady? Do you want nothing more from life than her eternal happiness?”

  “Northcotte is apparently considering letting her marry Sir Frederick. I would not wish that on any young lady. She would be miserable. Perhaps I should make an offer to keep her from that fate.”

  “Avoiding…”

  “She’s very good with foals. I would appreciate her opinion on some breeding decisions.”

  “Still avoiding.”

  “Very well! I admit it, I enjoy being with her. I look forward to seeing her smile when she first sees me. I find myself thinking of ways to make her laugh. But is that love, or am I simply encouraging her to stroke my ego?”

  “It’s certainly a good start. I’m obviously the wrong person to tell you what love feels like. You are the only one who can say if your feelings are enough to make you certain you can’t live without her.”

  Live without Lady Joanna. Sit back a
nd let her marry Sir Frederick and bear him children. Wait until the mood struck David to start a nursery and choose the first available debutant in London. Is that what he wanted?

  A bitter taste filled David’s mouth at the idea of Sir Frederick touching her, having control over her. Realizing much of what he felt was a protective instinct, he knew he couldn’t walk away from Lady Joanna. However, he did have feelings for her, to whatever degree, and she would make him a good wife. If he didn’t love her now, he would in time. Of that, he was certain.

  Now he needed to convince her—and her brother—he was the perfect husband for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Joanna stood beside Aunt Ophelia in yet another glamorous ballroom, this one decorated in Greek fashion with fake columns and large stone urns spaced out along the walls. Enormous ferns, small citrus trees, and palms planted in the urns broke up the harsh white decor. Although the guests weren’t required to wear masks, they all wore Grecian gowns and togas. Joanna had laurel leaves pinned among the braids wrapped around her head. Her gown, only one side of which came over her shoulder, was a ridiculous garment. The braided gold cord that nipped in the flowing gown at her waist was the only thing keeping her from looking as if she wore a burlap sack. Or a fine linen one. Her sandals, with their ribbons wrapped up her ankles, were a bit of a treat, however. They felt almost as if she were barefoot in public, quite scandalous, and one she found she liked. It would not do to wear such shoes around the horses, though.

  Amelia and Lady Hannah were dressed in a similar fashion. The two young ladies joined her in observing the growing crowd before the dancing began. Rising on her toes to look over the shoulders around them, Amelia asked, “Has anyone seen Sir Richard?”

  “I haven’t.” Joanna was more concerned about another man’s presence. Lady Hannah hadn’t mentioned which of her brothers had accompanied her, but it was quite possible Mr. David Lumley had returned from Goodwood by now.

  As Joanna thought this, another brother, Trey appeared and bowed to them. “Ladies, you all look well. Who has room for me on their dance cards?”

  He was a kind young man, Joanna admitted, but still had a bit of youthful padding to his face, and fair-colored side-whiskers sparse enough to make one wonder if he were required to shave more than once a week. He was a bit ungraceful on the dance floor, but always made her laugh at his wit. “I’ve some dances open. Which do you prefer?”

  Trey reserved a dance from each of them, and moved on to find other partners. Joanna resigned herself to another ball without Mr. Lumley, and prayed Sir Frederick was not in attendance. That would make a bad evening worse by tenfold. Or more.

  Joanna laughed at something Amelia said, then she heard a familiar chuckle behind her. She turned, suddenly warm and trembling, holding back the excited grin his voice always brought. “Mr. Lumley, I see you’ve returned safely from the race meeting. Congratulations on your win.”

  He bowed over her hand. “Thank you. Patriot gave us a good run for our money. It’s grand to finally beat your horse.”

  Her lips trembled with restraint as she tilted her head to one side. “No modesty in the win? I see you’re more the type to gloat.” She bit the inside of her cheek, trying hard to maintain a stern affect.

  “The next time Triton bests Patriot, you can be assured I’ll be all that is polite. But for the moment, yes, I’m going to gloat and take in all the glory I can.”

  “Yes, because we, as owners, are due all the glory of the work our horses put in.”

  His eyes lit with laughter. “Just so. I’ve taken every step alongside that animal as he learned to run fast. I must say I’m quite done in.”

  “Perhaps you should enter yourself at the next race meeting. I’m sure your pedigree would stand alongside those of the horses.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “All right, I admit I’m still a bit giddy with the win. You must know what I am feeling. Or has all the excitement disappeared due to the number of wins Patriot has earned?”

  She understood exactly what he described. “It’s not the number of wins that dulls the pleasure, it’s being unable to be there to see him win.”

  His smile faded slightly. “Ah, yes, I hadn’t considered that. From what you’ve told me, Northcotte feels your presence is required in London. Well, there are only a few more meetings before the Season ends, and perhaps then you’ll be able to attend at your leisure.”

  Only a few more race meetings also meant only a few more weeks to find a suitable husband, or be forced to marry Sir Frederick. This seemed the perfect opportunity for Mr. Lumley to hint that he considered himself among her prospective choices, yet he said nothing.

  She sighed and looked over the crowded room once more. The fates were unfair to her, to be sure. Why taunt her with such a specimen and not let him be available for the taking? It only served to make the rest of the choices that much less palatable.

  “Is the supper dance still available?” Mr. Lumley asked.

  “Yes, it’s free.”

  “Lovely. It shall be mine, then.” He bent to speak around her to the other ladies. “And what of you both? Did you save me a dance?”

  “I’ve several open as yet,” Amelia answered.

  Lady Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Must I fill my card with my brother’s names? I am not so ugly as to need the assistance of family to not appear a wallflower.”

  Mr. Lumley shook his head. “If you prefer not to dance with the most handsome gentleman in attendance, that is your choice. It will allow me another hand in the card room.”

  Joanna and Amelia laughed at his conceit, which Joanna knew to be false. As tempted as she was to put him in his place and offer to release him from their dance so he might spend the entire evening at cards, she was too selfish. She wanted to spend every possible moment with him, just to have the memories to carry her through whatever life had in store for her.

  It was the wrong thing to do. She should put that time into getting to know other gentlemen. Into letting other gentlemen see what a desirable companion she was. But she had no heart left for the hunt, having seen what she couldn’t have. She was grateful when her first partner stole her away from her friends and led her off to dance.

  David clasped his hands together behind his back and willed his body to stop trembling. He was not prone to nerves, so he convinced himself, almost, the quaking inside him was due to excitement. Having given himself permission to let his feelings be known to Lady Joanna, he couldn’t wait to get started.

  He had no idea where to begin. He couldn’t just blurt out some poetic words. He needed to demonstrate his interest in a more marked fashion than he’d been doing all along. His interest early on was forced, but if he made too large a turnaround, it might encourage her to reflect on the reason for the differences.

  When Lady Joanna moved to the dance floor on the arm of her dance partner, and the other ladies followed suit with theirs, David found himself wandering to where his mother stood with her friends. “Good evening,” he said.

  “Why, David, I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you were at Goodwood.”

  “I returned this afternoon. I didn’t think to inform Trey he would not be needed here this evening.”

  She laughed. “Trey quite enjoys dancing and mingling. He’d have come, regardless.” She looked about the dance floor. “Is your lady friend here?”

  “My what? Mother, if I had a lady friend, I would not bring her to an affair where you might be present.”

  Her brows rose. “You are certainly distracted this evening, if you think I’d ask about that sort of woman, no matter where we were. Now, I know your horse won twice at Goodwood, so that can’t be what’s occupying your thoughts. Which leaves me one other cause. Who is she? Which one of these fair misses has turned your head?” Mother raised her quizzing glass as she studied the crowded room.

  “There is no one occupying my thoughts,” he lied. He wanted to be certain Lady Joanna returned his affections befo
re letting his family know of their attachment.

  “Hannah has spent a lot of time with Northcotte’s sister, and I understand you ride with them often.”

  He grew warm under her scrutiny but would not play her game. “I escort Hannah often when she rides in Town.”

  “Bridgethorpe told me in his recent letter he’d heard Lady Joanna had quite the interest in racers. She seems to be rather talented in nurturing the young colts.”

  David was not sure which surprised him more, that his father still kept current on what the other breeders were up to, or that Lady Joanna’s skills with a horse were that well known. “She has mentioned wishing she were at a race meeting rather than the ballroom.”

  His mother’s eyes narrowed. “From what I’ve heard of the lady, she would be quite an asset at Fernleigh Stud.”

  Her plot was blatantly obvious. David licked his lips to keep from grinning. “Are you suggesting I hire her? I believe Knightwick is the one you should speak to regarding that. I only attend to the training of the horses and grooms.”

  She laughed at his nonsense. “Mind you, you’ll never be too old for me to take you by the ear and haul you from the room to give you a good scolding. You know perfectly well what I meant.”

  Sobering, he nodded, then spoke so only she might hear, couching his words carefully so as not to encourage his mother’s matchmaking. “She will make an excellent wife, I am certain. I hadn’t planned to take such a step just yet, and she’s in need of a husband soon. There is also the lack of friendship between our fathers over the years. Her brother likely continues the ill will toward our family.”

  Mother’s brows drew together. “Hannah has spoken kindly of the young man, from the few times she has met him. I’m not certain he feels as strongly about Bridgethorpe as you think.”

  He couldn’t remember a time when he and Northcotte had been civil to each other, but then, they’d kept such a distance between them, there was no contact. “Why this sudden interest in my taking a wife? I thought this was Hannah’s Season. Besides, Knightwick is the heir. He’s the one you should nag.”