Addie: To Wager On Her Future (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 5)

by Leenie Brown

  Damon snorted. He was always ready to run.

  “I will call the start,” Tom pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. “When the flag drops.”

  Addie moved her horse into position next to Mr. Eldridge, who extended his hand to her. “The winner will owe the loser one favour to be decided whenever the winner decides to call it in.”

  “Any favour?” She held her hand mere inches from his, hesitating to agree to such a wager until all the terms had been declared.

  Mr. Eldridge nodded.

  “I can trust your honour that such a favour will not ruin my reputation?”

  Mr. Eldridge chuckled. “You may. May I trust the same of you?”

  Addie smirked. “Most likely. A gentleman’s reputation is far more difficult to ruin, after all.”

  When was the last time she had felt so light that she would tease anyone, especially a handsome gentleman, about such things?

  “Are the terms acceptable to you? They are to me.” Mr. Eldridge’s hand was still hanging in the air in front of her.

  With a smile and a flutter of anticipation, Addie placed her hand in his and gave it a firm shake.

  Then, leaning forward, she whispered “take to the skies” to Damon just as she always did before they set off for a good run.

  Chapter 2

  Most likely? She would most likely keep his reputation intact? Robert could not help but chuckle at the impertinent reply. Miss Atwood seemed as lively as her mount, which, after a whisper from his rider, was snorting and ready to run.

  Robert’s eyes swept up and down the lady beside him. He, too, would be ready to do whatever she asked if she were to lean into him like that or put her lovely lips near his ear to say anything. She could be scolding him for all he cared, as long as she was so intently focused on him as she was her horse. Was there anything more beguiling than a female perched on the back of a fine mount?

  “Eldridge.”

  Robert turned his eyes toward Tom, who waved his handkerchief and smirked.

  “Are you ready?”

  There was laughter underscoring the words.

  “Yes, of course. Get on with it,” Robert replied, as heat crept up his neck at having been caught admiring his challenger. But how could he not admire her? She was a golden beauty.

  The flag fell, and before Robert could think to spur his horse into action, Miss Atwood was a length ahead of him. For the brief amount of time it took for Robert to register that he was falling behind before he had even begun, the question of what favour Miss Atwood would claim as her prize flitted through his mind. Pushing such a delicious contemplation aside, Robert turned his focus to the race, folding forward to nearly lay on Hugo’s neck and taking care to remain seated as he had promised he would.

  A half-length.

  His companion lifted and lowered very prettily with her horse’s gait.

  A quarter length.

  Though her head did not turn to check his progress, she tapped Damon’s haunches with her cane and appeared to press herself forward as if she sensed how near Robert was to overtaking her.

  Only a head separated him from the lead.

  Her hand which held the crossed reins pumped in and out on Damon’s neck. She was a frightfully impressive rider. So good, in fact, that it was tempting to stop urging Hugo forward just so he could watch her ride. However, he did not, and with two more strides, he gained the lead, though just. It was a pity that he could no longer see her. He glanced over his shoulder as the fence approached. She was not slowing.

  “Up, boy,” she called. “Over.”

  She was going to take the fence. Robert pressed Hugo forward. It would be best if he was across the gate before she attempted it. Hugo lifted into the air and landed only seconds before Damon landed beside him.

  Both he and Miss Atwood gradually brought their horses to a walk, circling back toward the fence, where their friends had joined them.

  Miss Atwood offered him her hand when they had finally stopped in front of the fence.

  “Hugo is the best,” she said with a smile, one eyebrow cocking up as he took her hand and shook it, “today,” she added.

  Robert chuckled. “Just today?”

  She nodded and gave her hand a tiny tug, reminding him to release it, though he ignored her.

  “Does that mean I will have to prove his greatness again on some other day?”

  She shrugged and smiled. “I make no such promises.”

  She was delightfully full of spirit.

  “I will look forward to the challenge.” He gave her hand one last shake and released it.

  “What is your favour?” she asked.

  Robert shook his head. “I have no idea, but I will claim it at some point.”

  “Were you wagering with a lady?” Faith scolded.

  “Yes.” Robert looked at his sister. “And she wagered with me. It was a fair agreement.”

  “As it should be,” Faith retorted. “And it is about time you started treating ladies with such respect.”

  “When have I not –” He ceased speaking and his eyes narrowed as Faith grinned. She was baiting him.

  “It was a very well-run race,” Miss Price inserted. “I should not be sorry to watch such a race again.”

  “I would not be opposed to running it again,” Robert assured her. Miss Price was also a pretty young lady, but as much as he had enjoyed playing cards with her at Mansfield, she was far more obliging than Robert would wish for in a future mate. He was quite used to his sister’s liveliness, and he feared growing bored if he did not marry a lady with some spirit. His eyes turned once again to Miss Atwood. A lady such as Miss Atwood was would do quite well as a partner for his future life, and it would be no hardship to ponder the idea.

  “Another day, perhaps,” that lady replied. “Maybe this time with a few others to add to the excitement?”

  “I would join you,” Miss Price said, “but I know I could never win.”

  “Never say never.” Miss Atwood smiled sweetly at Miss Price.

  They must be good friends. That was a good sign, for then, he might often get to be in company with Miss Atwood while he was at Mansfield.

  “I could instruct you on some techniques,” Miss Atwood offered.

  “I should like to be included in that,” Faith inserted. “I have yet to come as close to beating Robert as you have.”

  “No,” Robert answered. “That is a very bad idea.”

  “Why is that?” Miss Atwood walked her horse through the gate, which Edmund had opened.

  “I must be allowed to have one thing at which I am better than my sister,” Robert said as they began their ride back toward Mansfield.

  Tom guffawed at that while Faith and the others only chuckled. But then, Tom had heard Robert’s complaints about his sister’s scolding and prodding more than anyone else had.

  Faith was smart and determined. Much like a rod of iron in a smithy’s hands, her will took a great deal of work to bend. She and Robert were only at Mansfield because she had finally met with the one thing which seemed able to sway her with an ease like nothing else ever had, and that force was Tom Bertram, the fellow who was now leaning toward her and saying something which caused her to smile. Oh, it was good to see her so happy.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  Robert turned from his contemplation of his sister to find Miss Atwood riding beside him.

  “I was merely considering how happy my sister is.” There was no need to hide such a thing. He did not care who knew that he was a bit sentimental when it came to his older sister. She had been the closest thing he had to a mother for several years now.

  “She does look it.”

  “Do you have any sisters?”

  She shook her head. “Just one brother. He is nearly done with his studies.”

  “Ah.” There was something in how she answered which made Robert suspect she either was not entirely happy with the fact that her brother was her brother or the fact that he was
soon finishing school. He would have to ask Tom about that later. “And are your parents pleased with his progress?”

  “Father is, but we no longer have a mother.”

  “Nor do I.” He favoured her with a sad smile. “However, I also no longer have a father. In fact, Faith is the sum total of my family.”

  “Then it is good she is so well-loved by you.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her pull herself straight.

  “I fear my lot will not be so happy when my father passes,” she added.

  He shot her a curious look.

  “He is ill.” She glanced at him before turning her eyes forward and adding, “Apoplexy. He may survive as he is for some time or…”

  Not long at all. The unspoken words hung in the air like a fog covering the depths of a valley, thick and oppressive.

  Not long at all seemed to be a common state of being for the heads of estates in the area – or, at least, the two of whom Robert knew.

  “We must always hope for the best.”

  “And prepare for the worse,” she added.

  Her comment reminded him of his sister. “My sister is good at making preparations to ward against an uncertain future. She had put aside a tidy sum of money before the fire at Mansfield, for she was resolute that her destiny would never be outside of her power to see happy – or, more specifically, her future would never be wanting.”

  They rode silently for a distance.

  “Why did you say before the fire at Mansfield? Does she not have her money any longer?”

  The question made him smile. Miss Atwood was inquisitive. He had suspected she was. He enjoyed ladies who were so and who were not afraid to inquire about things that interested them.

  “She discovered that her future would always be wanting without Bertram.” He left his answer there, hoping to taunt her into asking further.

  Once again, it took a few strides of their horses before she spoke.

  “But what of her money?”

  “Tom needed money to repair the damaged wing of the house, and to do so, he was unable to continue in a financial venture. My sister has a sizable dowry which will aid in the repairs to Mansfield and the money, which she had earned in investments, she reallocated to the venture that Tom had been forced to abandon.”

  “Indeed?” There was a note of awe in Miss Atwood’s tone. “Your sister knows about investments?”

  Robert nodded.

  “And you do not mind that she does?”

  Robert shook his head.

  “Do you take her advice?”

  “Not without argument,” he replied with a smile.

  She laughed. “But you do think she is capable of giving good advice, do you not?”

  The answer to the question seemed most important based on how she was looking at him so intently.

  “You must not tell her this, but I do not think she is capable of giving good advice. I know she is.”

  Oh, heavens! There was something more beguiling than a beautiful woman perched on horseback, and that was a beautiful woman, who could nearly outrace him, perched on the back of a magnificent steed and smiling at him as if he had said the most wonderful thing ever. Not that he knew what he had said which was so brilliant.

  “Do you wish for me to ride with you?” Miss Price inserted herself into the conversation before Robert could attempt to discover why Miss Atwood seemed so pleased with him.

  “No, no. The stable is not far from here.”

  “Are you certain you do not wish for me to see you home?” Miss Price asked.

  “Absolutely certain,” Miss Atwood replied. “For if you do, then who shall see you home?”

  Robert thought of offering his services.

  “I shall be home before you have even reached Mansfield’s grove.” She turned to Robert. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eldridge. I do hope I have the good fortune of seeing you again in the future.”

  “As do I,” Robert replied.

  “Would you be so kind as to extend my pleasure to your sister?”

  “Of course,” he answered.

  “Then I will bid you a good day.” She leaned over and grasped Miss Price’s hand. “Until tomorrow, unless it rains.”

  “Oh, I hope it does not,” Miss Price cried, and Robert had to agree that rain would be a very bad thing if it meant not seeing Miss Atwood.

  “Do send word to Silverthorne if Mrs. Bertram needs anything,” she said to Edmund. “I know that you have relations at Mansfield. However, I would like to be of service, and you are all occupied with Sir Thomas and the fire.”

  “And you have your father,” Edmund said softly.

  “He would understand. Please?”

  Edmund nodded. “Very well, I will send word should there be any need of which Fanny thinks you should be made aware.”

  Miss Atwood did not seem pleased with that response. “Susan, you will send for me, will you not?”

  Edmund chuckled. “We will not ignore you. And I will extend your wishes to Fanny for her health.”

  Miss Atwood thanked him, and then, turning her horse to the right, bent forward, and whispered “take to the skies” just loudly enough for Robert to catch it, and Damon was off, pounding his way across the land, his head, as well as his rider, bobbing up and down rhythmically as if one.

  It was a mesmerizing sight, which held Robert captive until Edmund called his name. He really needed to do a better job of not appearing so fond of the Bertram’s neighbour if he ever wished either Bertram brother to stop smirking at him.

  Chapter 3

  Just before reaching the paddock next to the stables, Addie slowed Damon to a walk. He needed to cool down, and she was in no hurry to face the rest of the day. She could not remember when she had enjoyed a more pleasant morning ride. Mr. Eldridge was certainly handsome. He was also a brilliant rider, but not so much of an expert as to think himself always the best. Had he not complimented her on her riding? The thought caused her lips to curl into a satisfied smile.

  Added to his pleasing features and his ability to ride, was the fact that Mr. Eldridge was not the sort to think a female was stupid just because she was a female, for he not only approved of his sister’s knowing about investments, he thought she was capable of giving good advice. And that last fact was likely his most attractive feature. How lovely it must be to be thought capable of more than running a household and hosting soirees with aplomb.

  James had thought that way about her at one time — before he had gone to school. Her father assured her that it was just a stage of life, a place where James would find himself and learn what he needed to be a gentleman who could form his own opinions based on a broad base of experiences. However, Addie was not so certain, and even if it was just a season, this season was a painful one. She missed her sensible and caring brother, and she was fearful he was gone from her forever, much as her father might soon be.

  Reluctantly, she rounded the stables and prepared to go about the business of seeing to the running of her father’s house.

  “Ah, there he is.”

  “James? What are you doing here?” Her brother was standing beside a rather well-dressed gentleman of about forty. It was not anyone she had ever seen before, and from the way the man’s eyes roved her figure with appreciation, he was not someone she ever wished to see again.

  “I am just showing this gent a horse.”

  Addie looked to her right and left. There were presently no horses in the yard.

  “What horse?” She handed her reins to a groom and stepped down onto the mounting steps next to which she had stopped.

  “Why Damon, of course.”

  Damon? Addie stood frozen to the top step, her hand resting in that of a groom who was to help see her safely to the ground.

  “He is the finest gelding we have and an excellent racer.”

  “He is also mine,” Addie inserted. Father had given Damon to her four years ago.

  “He is part of our stables,
” James retorted with a glare which spoke loudly of his not wishing for her to say anything further.

  “He is mine,” she said through clenched teeth as she finally descended the steps.

  “Not if Mr. Camden and I can come to a reasonable arrangement.”

  She would see about that. She turned away from James, gave a few brief instructions to the groom who held her horse, and, with her chin lifted, walked past her brother and toward the house. Surely, Father would not allow Robert to sell Damon.

  This was just more proof that the brother who cared for her was gone. She brushed at tears as she walked toward the house. Surely, Father would not approve of selling Damon. Surely, he would not.

  ~*~*~

  “Let me tell you again,” Addie said to her father twenty minutes later. He did not seem shocked by her revelation. Perhaps he had not understood what she had said.

  “James has a gentleman at the stables and is –” She stopped when her father tapped the table behind which he sat.

  “I… know… My mind… works.”

  So he knew? And he did nothing to stop James? Her heart sank and threatened to crumble. “But Father, Damon is mine. You gave him to me.”

  The left side of her father’s mouth twitched, and his eyes grew sad. “It is…” She could see that he was attempting to search his mind for a word and make his mouth form it.

  Do not say necessary, she begged silently. Do not say necessary. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as she waited.

  “Necess… necessary,” he finally finished his thought just as she dreaded he would.

  “Why? What has James done?” She shook her head. That was a foolish question with an obvious answer. “He owes that man something, doesn’t he?”

  Her father’s head nodded awkwardly. “He is… dangerous.” His hand reached out for her. “You… will… marry and then… you will not need…” Again, his lips twisted as he fought to form the word. “Damon.”

  She would always need Damon for she had no intention of marrying a gentleman who would not allow her to ride. Therefore, Damon would be needed. He was her horse, and a precious gift from a beloved father, whom she had always thought had understood her. But perhaps he did not.