The Race For Love

by Barbara Cartland

  As he spoke, he drew a stopwatch from his pocket and handed it to her, saying,

  “I want you to time me exactly to the second as I take King Hal round the course. Then Burt will see if he can beat my time on Red Trump.”

  He mounted King Hal and rode off at what seemed to Alita to be a tremendous pace.

  When she clicked the watch to a stop she could hardly believe that he could have done it so quickly.

  “All I can say is that back home tortoises move quicker!” Burt Ackberg teased and then set off on Red Trump, riding him as if he was a jockey, despite his height.

  The result was three seconds difference between the two men and Alita wondered if Clint Wilbur would dislike being beaten.

  But he only smiled and said to Alita,

  “Now let’s see what you can do on Rajah.”

  She was about to protest that she would rather ride Flamingo, when she thought that Clint Wilbur, who knew all the horses so well, had perhaps a reason for choosing Rajah as her mount.

  She took him round as quickly as she could and was rather mortified when she was beaten and came in third place.

  However, the men praised her and said that it was excellent for a first attempt.

  They tried the same sort of competition on the other horses, but it was obvious that the first three Clint Wilbur had chosen were the fastest.

  When it was time for Alita to go back to The Castle, Clint Wilbur said to her,

  “Look out for a surprise tomorrow morning!”

  Her eyes widened and she replied,

  “This morning has been very exciting! And if we are going to race again, I would like to try and see what Flamingo can do and perhaps Wild West.”

  “Wild West is a possibility,” he replied, “but not Flamingo.”

  She wondered why not and then decided that it all had something to do with the show he was planning for Sunday night and she knew that he would not like her to be argumentative about anything.

  There was also no time to linger if she was to get back to The Castle, change and be downstairs for breakfast without incurring a reprimand and perhaps awkward questions as to why she was late.

  She was certain that her uncle was determined to see that she obeyed his instructions, when he asked later in the day,

  “You have told Mr. Wilbur that you will not be spending any more time at the stables at Marshfield House?”

  “Yes, Uncle Lionel.”

  “When is he expecting the horses?”

  “As soon as the stables are finished.”

  “Well, the sooner the better, as far as I am concerned,” the Duke asserted.

  Alita knew that he was anxious to receive Mr. Wilbur’s cheque, which undoubtedly would arrive immediately after the completion of the sale.

  “You have not – forgotten, Uncle Lionel,” she said tentatively, “that you promised to put some money aside to buy in new horses?”

  Seeing the uninterested expression on his face, she added quickly,

  “As it is, Hermione will have nothing to ride this winter.”

  “I will let you have two thousand pounds of what Wilbur pays me,” the Duke said after a moment’s pause, “but not a penny more.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Lionel,” Alita answered. “Thank you very much.”

  It was not a great deal, considering what he would be getting for the horses he had sold and that the stables were now depleted of anything that was rideable in the hunting field.

  Alita could not help remembering how Clint Wilbur had told her that if she worked for him she could help him not only to buy dozens of horses but to build up a racing stable that would rival any other in the country.

  Could anything, she asked herself, be a more thrilling assignment?

  Then she knew that even to dream about such things was absurd and she ought to be grateful that her uncle had given her any money at all.

  “Two thousand pounds!” Sam had said when she told him. “It’ll not be enough, Miss Alita, for what you wants.”

  “We shall just have to work hard on the yearlings, Sam. Three of the foals that were born this spring look very promising.”

  “I’ll ’ave a look at that young ’orse I were a-talkin’ to you about, miss,” Sam said. ‘“The owner’s a friend of mine and ’e might ’ave others that’d be worth trainin’.”

  They entered into an animated discussion as to how they could best spend the precious money allotted to them.

  Alita knew that she must concentrate on the work she must do in the future when the excitement of helping Clint Wilbur was no longer there.

  ‘He will build his own Racecourse,’ she thought, ‘and then I shall never see him.’

  Again the agony she had felt first thing that morning was back. Then she remembered how kind he had been and what fun they had had racing each other over the jumps.

  She was up earlier than usual the next morning and even Sam grumbled because she hurried him when he was getting the horses saddled.

  She went off with the two stable boys, each riding one horse and leading another, while she rode Flamingo and led Rajah.

  When she reached the Racecourse, she stared in astonishment.

  In the centre of the field, which had been empty yesterday when she had left it, there was now another and very much smaller course with seven jumps.

  It only took her a moment to realise that what Clint Wilbur had built was an outdoors replica of the riding school.

  There was even a small fence round the outside of the jumps so that the horses would feel that they were enclosed as they would be by walls.

  She could hardly believe that he could have taken so much trouble on her behalf and had saved her from disobeying the Duke’s orders by bringing to her everything that was essential.

  When she saw him appear in the distance, she rode towards him impulsively.

  Her eyes were shining as she reached him and enthused,

  “How could you have thought of anything so wonderful? Thank you! Thank you a thousand times!”

  “I thought it would please you,” he answered, “and I also consider it much better for Burt and me to practise in the open air, especially if we have thick heads after too much port the night before!”

  Alita knew that he was only disparaging his own generosity and making it unnecessary for her to go on thanking him.

  The horses at first found it a little difficult to take the jumps so quickly one after another.

  But Alita soon saw how really outstanding riders like Clint Wilbur and his friend could set their mount off on the right foot to ensure that the horse’s balance and timing were perfect.

  Rajah made several mistakes on the first time round, which she knew was her fault, but she watched the two men until she could copy them exactly.

  As Clint Wilbur had said, when she jumped with Flamingo, he knew what she was thinking and what she wanted of him, because they worked together instinctively.

  *

  It seemed to Alita all through the week that the hours on the Racecourse flew by.

  Because she was so anxious not to let Clint Wilbur down, she would often slip back again alone in the afternoon to take Rajah and Flamingo over the jumps patiently and painstakingly until it seemed almost impossible that they could miss a step.

  She also every day tried out the new tricks that she was teaching Flamingo and, when she went to bed at night, she was so tired that she fell asleep almost before her head touched the pillow.

  She had found a book in the library some time ago which described what the Lipizzaner stallions in the Spanish Riding School were taught to do when they gave their performance, which was one of the wonders of the horse-loving world.

  Flamingo was learning quickly and, although he would never be as magnificent as the famous Lipizzaner stallions, each of which had his own private and ceremonial dance, Alita was certain that he would captivate and entrance any lover of horseflesh.

  “One would have thought” the Duchess said so
urly at dinner one evening when there were no guests and Alita was therefore allowed to dine with them, “that you might have spent a little of your valuable time helping Hermione and me to prepare for our visit to Windsor.”

  “I am sorry, Aunt Emily,” Alita said quickly, “but I had no idea that you needed me.”

  “Another pair of hands is often necessary,” the Duchess said coldly, “but I quite understand that the horses’ needs are more important than my daughter’s and mine!”

  “I am sorry,” Alita said again humbly. “Is there anything I can do for you – this evening?”

  She knew that, when her aunt hesitated, her services were not really needed and that the Duchess, who had been extremely disagreeable towards her recently, was only being deliberately unpleasant.

  It was almost as if she had sensed that Alita’s eagerness to go to Marshfield House had not been due entirely to the renovation of the stables.

  Alita was sure that when her aunt looked at her disparagingly she was thinking that no man would notice her, especially Mr. Wilbur, who had not fallen in love with Hermione and yet one could never be sure.

  It was important from the Duke and Duchess’s point of view that no one, especially a near neighbour, should have the slightest idea that Alita was closely related to them.

  But Alita was quite certain that what her aunt said when she had aroused the Duke to take action was,

  “A servant, as Alita is supposed to be, would not be allowed to go gallivanting away from her usual work as your niece has been doing. I do not really approve, Lionel, as you well know, of her working in the stables but if that is your choice then it is to be in our stables and, as we decided originally, she is not to leave the environs of The Castle.”

  After three years of living under her aunt’s jurisdiction, Alita could be aware of what the Duchess was thinking without her actually speaking the words in her cold contemptuous manner.

  But while in the past she would have been depressed and humiliated by her aunt’s attitude, it was impossible at the present to feel anything but an impatience for the moment when they would all leave The Castle for their visit to Windsor.

  They actually departed on Friday morning, amidst a flurry of last minute instructions, forgotten cases, a change of clothing and a good deal of disagreeableness from the Duke.

  He disliked, as Alita knew, travelling with his wife and daughter.

  He much preferred going to London alone and, if they were all staying at Langstone House in Park Lane, the Duchess and Hermione would join him later or the next day.

  This was the first time that the Duchess had insisted on their travelling together and Alita was thankful that she did not have to be with them or become involved in the arguments which she was quite certain would keep them bickering the whole way to London.

  As the carriage drove away down the drive and she stood on the steps to watch them go, she felt as if the sun came out and a weight fell from her shoulders.

  She was free!

  Free for the rest of the day and for the whole of Saturday and Sunday and part of Monday!

  It was almost too good to realise and she was singing as she ran upstairs to change from her brown gown into her riding habit.

  She was not really surprised that, while she was taking Flamingo over the jumps on the new miniature Racecourse, Clint Wilbur should join her.

  He was smiling as he rode across the field and, when he reached her, he asked,

  “They have gone?”

  “Yes!”

  It seemed disloyal but irrepressible that her voice should ring out with a lilt in it.

  Although she was not aware of it, it was not only what she said but the way she looked that told Clint Wilbur of her relief and her excitement.

  “Now we have to get busy!” he said.

  She waited and he went on,

  “I suggest that you bring Flamingo to the riding school right away. He has to get used to the lights and, of course, to the music.”

  “I had not thought of that!” Alita exclaimed.

  “They will affect him more than the others, so we will rehearse them all tomorrow.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “What I suggest,” he went on, “is that you inform your Head Groom that I require delivery of the horses that are going to perform at the riding school first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “I will tell Sam,” Alita answered.

  She thought that the stables would have been ready by now, but she understood that Clint Wilbur had deliberately left the horses at The Castle simply so that she could go on training them but without disobeying the Duke’s instructions not to go to Marshfield House.

  “That will leave only Flamingo for you to ride,” Clint Wilbur went on, “and let me say here and now that I shall want you every moment tomorrow for what will really be our dress rehearsal.”

  When Alita went into the riding school she had been astonished by the changes and what had been done in so short a time.

  Only Clint Wilbur, she thought, with his drive and also a complete disregard for expense, could have achieved so much so quickly.

  The walls had been painted, the floor was covered in sand, all the seats had been removed and in the balcony new ones covered in a rich crimson velvet looked both comfortable and luxurious.

  There were red velvet curtains to draw over the high windows and a special place had been made for the musicians at the end of the gallery.

  Where obviously the guests of honour were to sit, flowers were being banked as if Royalty was to be present.

  As she looked at it, Alita thought to herself that that was true in a way, because Nellie Farren was undoubtedly the Queen of her profession and certainly Queen of The Gaiety.

  While she was staring about, the gaslights were lit.

  They made the riding school glow with a magical radiance that had not been there before. Alita saw that they had been cleverly arranged so as not to dazzle the horses, but to bring out the shine on their coats and doubtless also give a glamour to their riders.

  “Well, any criticisms?” Clint Wilbur asked.

  “How could there be?” Alita replied. “It’s perfect. Just what a riding school should be!”

  “Take Flamingo around and see if he approves,” Clint Wilbur suggested. “I cannot provide him with a full orchestra at the moment, but I will play the piano and see if he appreciates my musical efforts.”

  He walked up to the gallery and Alita waited outside the big double door until she heard the first strains of a Viennese waltz.

  She rode Flamingo into the school and took him slowly and gently over the jumps.

  He never faltered and, when he completed the course twice, she realised that the music had stopped and Clint Wilbur was leaning over the balcony looking at her.

  “It is wonderful!” she exclaimed. “And Flamingo thinks so too!”

  “Perhaps he can express himself a little more eloquently,” Clint Wilbur suggested.

  Alita flashed him a smile to show that she understood what he meant and then she made Flamingo bow his head and go down on one knee, as she had taught him to do.

  Clint Wilbur clapped his hands.

  Then he said,

  “You have made a list, as I asked you to do, of the music that is required for Flamingo’s solo performance?”

  “I have it here in my pocket,” Alita answered.

  “I have told the leader of the orchestra to be prepared for it,” Clint Wilbur said, “so if you give it to me I will leave it on his stand. ”

  Alita drew it out and held it up.

  By leaning far over the balcony and stretching down, Clint Wilbur could take it from her.

  As he did so, their fingers touched and once again she felt the strange sensation that had run through her when he had touched her hand in the library.

  Her eyes were upturned and, as they looked into his blue ones, it seemed as if they spoke to each other and yet what they said could never be expressed in words.


  Then with an effort Alita rode Flamingo through the double doors and brought him in again so that he could grow used to the change of light.

  All three of them worked all day Saturday at what Clint Wilbur called the ‘dress rehearsal’, although they wore their ordinary clothes.

  For the first time Alita saw the amazing tricks that Burt Ackberg could do.

  He could ride twirling a rope round his head and he could imitate the Cossacks by taking jumps while standing up on the saddle without falling off.

  “You ought to be in a circus!” Alita said, laughing as she clapped her hands at his amazing achievements.

  “I have been!” he replied.

  When she looked surprised, Clint Wilbur told her,

  “He owned it and he gave the money that his performances brought in, which was quite a considerable sum, to a hospital for sick children.”

  Alita found that the company of the two men, who teased her and made her laugh and listened to anything she had to say, made her feel that she had never been so happy.

  Clint Wilbur insisted that they stop work to eat a large luncheon and again for tea.

  When Burt Ackberg protested, he said solemnly,

  “You are in England now. Miss Blair, being English, could not possibly carry on without the customary cup of tea.”

  “Customary is the right word!” Burt Ackberg exclaimed. “They’ve got some mighty strange customs here in England. But if the hunting is as good as I’m told it’ll be, I’ll put up with having to wear a stiff shirt and a tailcoat for dinner and holding my knife and fork like my grandma’s knitting needles!”

  “There are many worse things than that!” Clint Wilbur warned him.

  “I know. I’m learning every day, but if you tell me again that my clothes are wrong, I swear I’ll go back to Texas tomorrow morning!”

  Both Clint Wilbur and Alita cried out that they could not give the performance without him.

  She found herself laughing helplessly when he parodied the English way of talking and demonstrated what he considered the ‘snooty-nosed manner’ of shaking hands.

  It was all such fun that when, as the sun was sinking, Alita rode back towards The Castle she told herself that if there had not been another exciting day ahead of her she would have felt like crying.