Arlington Street was where Lord Sefton resided, and as she and Ellen alighted, Jane glanced along the street, holding onto her tugging bonnet as she did so, while at the same time keeping the veil pulled down, otherwise the wind would have billowed it up in a cloud about her head. Looking at his lordship’s town house, she pondered the shock waves which would spread through society when the Swan’s late entry in the race was announced.
The hackney coach they took on this occasion proved to be even more rickety than its predecessor, but it carried them safely across London and they alighted in the Feathers’ yard without having attracted any undue attention. Jane was once again forced to hold on tightly to her bonnet and veil, for the wind was almost savagely determined to whisk both from her head.
The veil lifted and fluttered as she glanced around the yard, which had a very different air about it now. A down Swan was preparing to leave, the first afternoon one for some time, and Will was to take the ribbons. Betsy was standing proudly at his side, for he looked very smart indeed in a white top hat as splendid as that worn by the Nonpareil’s Sewell. As Jane watched, the innkeeper’s daughter pinned a fresh nosegay to his lapel and then stretched up to kiss him on the cheek before hurrying away toward the kitchen entrance. A moment later, two passengers emerged from the coffee room to take their places inside the coach. Then the guard put his bugle to his lips and Will climbed up onto the box. The Swan drew out, the sound of its departure echoing loudly beneath the archway as it pulled out into the crush of Cheapside.
Ellen went to join Betsy in the kitchens, the two having gotten to know and like each other, and Jane found Jacob in the coffee room, humming cheerfully to himself as he checked the waybills of the past two days. He looked up as she entered, and a grin spread across his face as he rose to his feet. ‘Lady Jane, how pleased I am to see you again.’
She teased off her gloves and sat down. ‘Did I actually espy two passengers a moment ago?’
‘You did indeed, and they’re going all the way to Brighton.’
‘On the afternoon coach?’
His grin broadened. ‘Well, I thought it was a shame to leave young Will twiddling his thumbs when there was a coach to get running again.’ He paused. ‘Arthur’s return has caused quite a stir, you know.’
‘It certainly has with my brother, so much so that he’s going to send someone here to spy.’
‘He won’t be the first. We’ve had three snoopers here already, two of Chapman’s and one from the Swan with Two Necks. We recognized them all, and they were turfed out.’
‘What if there’s been someone you haven’t recognized?’
‘If so, there’s been nothing yet to find out. Everyone here’s been put on their guard to say nothing to anyone, especially not about the race or about you.’
Betsy’s kitten came to jump up on Jane’s lap, and Jacob immediately made to remove it, but she stopped him, ‘Please leave her, I love cats.’
‘If you’re quite sure….’ he began doubtfully.
‘Quite sure.’
At that moment there was the sound of hooves and wheels in the yard and they both turned to see a smart scarlet cabriolet arriving, drawn by a very handsome gray horse. It was driven by Lewis, Lord Ardenley.
TWENTY-ONE
For a moment, she was motionless with surprise. Why had he come? Was he going to honor his word about the horses after all? She didn’t know what to think, and she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came face to face with her again. Would he snub her as he had at the theater? Slowly, she put the kitten down and then hurried toward the window, peeping out carefully so that he wouldn’t notice her.
He had maneuvered the light cabriolet to a standstill close to the archway into the stableyard, and a boy hurried out immediately to take the horse’s bridle and lead it through out of her sight.
Lewis paused for a moment, tilting his top hat back on his head. The wind ruffled his hair and raised the tails of his light blue coat. He wore beige trousers and gleaming Hessian boots, the tassels of which swung as he turned, glancing along the gallery as if looking for someone.
A maid was emerging from the kitchen door and she almost dropped her pail of potato peelings as he spoke to her. With wide eyes, she pointed toward the coffee room, and Jane drew hastily back from the window as he began to walk toward her.
Jacob had come to stand by her. ‘That’s Lord Ardenley, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you think he’s going to horse the Swan after all?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t think he would, but I can’t imagine why else he’d come here.’ The kitten was rubbing around her ankles, anxious to be picked up and cuddled, and automatically she did as it wanted, scooping it into her arms and returning to her seat with it. It purred and kneaded her sleeve with its little claws, looking the picture of feline bliss.
The door opened then and Lewis stepped in, bowing his head beneath the low lintel. He didn’t immediately see her, but noticed only Jacob, still standing by the window. ‘Mr Wheddle?’ he inquired.
‘Yes, my lord.’ Jacob smoothed his apron a little nervously, his glance moving involuntarily toward Jane.
Lewis saw her then and paused, evidently a little surprised. He removed his hat then, bowing politely enough, but his face revealed nothing of his thoughts. ‘Lady Jane?’
‘Sir.’ She met his eyes briefly and then continued stroking the kitten.
‘I didn’t expect to find you here,’ he said.
‘I could say the same of you.’
A light passed through his eyes. ‘I gave my word,’ he reminded her.
‘You’re still going to horse the Swan?’
‘If you still require horses.’ He looked at Jacob then. ‘I take it that you do?’
Jacob nodded immediately. ‘Oh, yes, my lord, we need them very much indeed.’
‘Then perhaps we should discuss the details, mm?’
‘Certainly, my lord. Would – would you care to take some coffee?’
Lewis nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ He put his top hat down on the table as Jacob hurried out calling for Betsy. The coffee room was horridly quiet then, with Lewis teasing off his gloves finger by finger and then putting them into the upturned hat.
Jane was shaking a little, and tried to hide the fact by continuing to stroke the delighted kitten. She was relieved when Jacob hurried back almost immediately, asserting that the very finest coffee in the city would be served to them in a moment.
Lewis sat down and bade Jacob join them. As the landlord complied, he couldn’t help glancing at the rather stiff faces of his two aristocratic companions. The atmosphere between them could have been cut with a knife. Jacob cleared his throat and shifted a little uncomfortably.
Betsy brought the coffee and as she withdrew again, the kitten followed her, rubbing around her ankles as she turned to close the door behind her.
Jacob poured the coffee and gave Jane the first cup. Then he handed one to Lewis. ‘Do you know how many horses we’ll need, my lord?’
‘Thirty minimum, thirty-four to be on the safe side. There’s no problem – I’ve that many at Maywood. Tell me about the new coach you’ve ordered. Does it have brakes?’
Jacob shook his head, a little taken aback. ‘No, my lord, no coach master worth his salt would think of such a thing. Brakes place too great a strain on the wheels.’
‘Brakes also give a greater advantage on hills.’
‘It’s preferable to rely on drags and on the strength of the wheelers.’ Thinking that he might have spoken a little too forcefully, Jacob cleared his throat again. ‘Begging your pardon, my lord,’ he added tactfully.
A thin smile touched Lewis’s lips. ‘You’re entitled to your opinion, sir, just as I’m entitled to mine. I happen to think that brakes are an excellent invention which should be much more universally fitted than at present. I certainly think that they should be fitted on a coach which is to take part in a race, since wheels can surely take suc
h a strain for one day.’
Jacob pursed his lips. ‘Men like Arthur Huggett prefer to stick to the old tried and trusted ways.’
‘And men like Edward Chapman are just as likely to latch on to the benefits of new ways,’ replied Lewis.
Jacob looked quickly at him. ‘Do you know something about Chapman’s plans, my lord?’
‘No, I’m just guessing. Word has it among the fraternity that the new Nonpareil is under very close wraps at the Black Horse, so close that my suspicions are more than a little aroused. There’s a small fortune resting on this race, and Chapman’s determined to win it, so I believe he’s struck out of the usual mold and that the coach which sets off in his colors on Midsummer Day will give the Iron Duke and the Swan a great deal to think about at such an eleventh hour.’
Jacob sat back thoughtfully. ‘Too much to think about, is that what you’re saying?’
‘I’m not saying anything – I’m surmising. Chapman knows the new Iron Duke is conventional. There’s been no secret about it.’
‘We’ll need to find out then, to be sure.’
Lewis raised an eyebrow. ‘Penetrate Chapman’s inner sanctum? That won’t be easy, not when he’s clamped down so very much to keep his rivals out.’
Jacob looked at Jane then. ‘Has the earl said anything to you, my lady?’
‘No, but I’m sure he doesn’t think it’s going to be anything out of the ordinary.’
Lewis drew a long, doubtful breath and then shook his head. ‘Well, I’m probably wrong. Let’s hope I am, because if the Nonpareil has brakes, it’s going to give you much more than a run for your money on hills and tight bends. Still, enough of the coach. I need to know exactly where each stage is set to begin and end.’ He looked at Jacob. ‘Are you using your usual bases?’
‘We had planned to, my lord.’
‘And they are…?’
‘Sutton, Reigate, Crawley, Hardcross, and Bolney.’
‘Inns where Chapman’s influence is rather too great for comfort, if you don’t mind my saying so.’
‘What other choice do we have, my lord?’
‘Dispense with inns altogether. I could have my grooms waiting with the fresh horses at predetermined places along the ground, directly outside each town or village where the stages usually end, for instance. That way we’d be sure of steering clear of friend Chapman, and of any nonsense the proprietor of the Iron Duke might feel inclined to perpetrate on an occasion by which he sets such great personal store.’
Jacob was gaping at him. ‘Dispense with the inns? But that’s unheard of.’
‘It isn’t against the race rules – I’ve made certain of that. There’s nothing to say we must stick to the inns.’
‘But what about the men that’d be needed for such changes? We’d need a small army.’
‘I don’t keep vast stables at Maywood without having the men to look after them.’
Jacob cleared his throat a little uncomfortably. ‘No, my lord, I don’t suppose you do.’
Lewis smiled a little. ‘It’s settled then?’
The landlord nodded. ‘Yes, my lord.’
‘Good, then I’ll have my men find the most suitable places and I’ll let you know.’ Lewis finished his coffee and got up, pulling on his gloves. ‘I’ll keep in close touch between now and Midsummer Day.’
Jacob rose as well. ‘Thank you, my lord. With your bloodstock, I think we’ll have a more than even chance of holding the others down.’
‘Not if Chapman uses brakes you won’t,’ replied Lewis, tapping his top hat on his head. He left after according Jane no more than a civil nod.
She remained seated as Jacob escorted Lewis out. Then she went to the window again, watching as the two men paused by the inner archway, talking for a moment more before Lewis took his leave, vanishing from her sight as he went through to the stableyard where his cabriolet was waiting.
Until that moment, she hadn’t really believed he’d just go without saying anything more to her, but it was plain that he was doing just that. He’d said that he was going to treat her this way, and it was becoming more and more obvious that he’d meant every word. The realization came as a bitter shock, even though at the theater the night before he’d made his intentions perfectly clear by cutting her as he had. She stared at the archway. Earlier, when they’d been seated around the table discussing the race, she’d been painfully aware that she might as well have not been there for all the notice he’d taken of her; he’d predicted that she wouldn’t like such treatment, and he’d been so right – she’d didn’t like it in the slightest. Damn him for knowing her as he did.
Suddenly the situation was too much. She had to talk to him. Gathering her skirts, she hurried out, the wind fluttering her veil behind her and snatching at her bonnet as if it had been waiting for another chance to seize it.
The scarlet cabriolet had been drawn up by the open door of an empty stable, and Lewis was just tossing a coin to the stableboy who had been looking after it for him.
She hesitated some distance away from him. ‘Lewis?’ The wind was too strong and he didn’t hear. ‘Lewis?’
He turned. ‘Yes?’
She went closer and the stableboy hurried tactfully away. Through the stable’s open door she could see the fresh straw piled inside, and the kitten Tabitha playing in it, chasing imaginary mice. Jane halted a few feet away from the cabriolet, conscious of the coolness in Lewis’s gray eyes as he looked at her. The wind made her skirts flap, and she had to steady her bonnet, which was tugging at its ribbons as if it was alive. ‘Lewis, I must talk to you.’
‘Indeed? I can’t imagine what about.’ He was detached and could have been addressing anyone.
She moved into the lee of the open stable door, where the wind wasn’t quite so fierce. ‘Is it really necessary to treat me quite like this?’ she asked, her voice suddenly much more audible.
‘I was under the impression it was what you wanted,’ he replied.
‘I don’t want to be cut at the theater, nor do I want to be ignored during conversation.’
‘What happened at the theater was hardly a cut, for as I recall I acknowledged you.’
‘Barely.’
‘I still acknowledged you. As to ignoring you during conversation, well there didn’t seem to be anything to say, did there? To be perfectly honest, my lady, I find your present complaint a little rich, since I seem to remember your departure from Brighton being anything but courteous.’
‘Courtesy was hardly high on anyone’s agenda on that occasion,’ she replied.
At that moment a strong gust of wind sucked through the stableyard, swinging the stable door so sharply that it almost wrenched from its ancient hinges. Jane’s skirts flapped more wildly than ever, and the ribbons of her bonnet at last gave up their struggle. The bonnet was whisked from her head, sailing high into the air with its veil fluttering prettily like a large butterfly. Jane stared at it in dismay, and then her dismay deepened still more, for her hair tumbled down from its pins, whipping across her face as raggedly as a gypsy’s.
‘I don’t think there’s anything more to be said,’ Lewis murmured, inclining his head and turning back toward the cabriolet.
She stared at him, disheartenment flooding miserably through her, but then something made her look toward the archway to the outer courtyard. A man was coming beneath it, a small, nondescript fellow in shabby gray, with bow legs and highlows, and strings dangling from his knees. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid any attention, his sort abounded at inns and stables, but there was something unusual about him which struck a chord. It was the way he chewed upon a straw, flicking it to and fro like a viper’s tongue. She’s seen him at the Fleece when she’d gone there with Henry. She’d been perched up on the phaeton and this very man held the team while Henry had gone to see someone. If he looked in her direction now he was bound to recognize her, even with her hair loose. Oh, no, he mustn’t see her – he’d go straight to Henry and it would be all up!
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br /> Lewis sensed that something was wrong, for he turned back to her. ‘What is it?’
‘That man, he’s from the Fleece! He knows me.’
‘Get in there,’ he said quickly, taking her arm and thrusting her bodily into the empty stable.
The man didn’t see her, but a moment later he noticed the cabriolet and recognized Lewis. He paused thoughtfully and the straw stopped flicking.
Lewis could read his thoughts. He was wondering why a man like Lord Ardenley was paying a visit to a lesser inn like the Feathers.
Jane whispered almost inaudibly from the stable. ‘Has he gone? Is it safe to come out?’
‘Stay there. Goddammit, he’s coming over!’ In a moment, Lewis had come into the stable as well, and before she knew what was happening, he’d caught her wrist and flung her backward on to the pile of straw. In a blur, she saw Tabitha erupt toward the door, spitting angrily, her little ears back, but then the kitten was forgotten, for Lewis was on top of her, pinning her back against the straw, his lips only inches from her. ‘Be still, my lady, or you’ll give the game away. His suspicions are aroused and so I have to give him something he’ll believe.’ He smiled coldly at her then, tightening his hold and she began to struggle. ‘He’ll believe this,’ he murmured, bending his head to kiss her roughly on the lips.
She had to submit, she hadn’t the strength to stop him. It was a bruising, hurtful kiss and simmering behind it she could taste the anger which had been burning within him since the day she’d returned his ring. She writhed beneath him, but her struggles were futile. He could have taken her, used the ultimate force, and there wouldn’t have been anything she could have done to resist.
She was only dimly aware of a shadow at the stable door as the man’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to look in to see what was going on. She didn’t see the sly, knowing grin which spread over his thin little face. So that was it, the smile said; his lordship was here to tumble a serving wench in the hay, taking all the liberties a fine lady wouldn’t permit! The man’s eyes lingered appreciatively on her legs, noticing only the smooth, pale skin and not the rather costly silk stockings and fine shoes which were hardly the apparel of a serving girl.
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