by Mary Nichols
His heart sank; so much for his hope that he might change matters. She was obviously as set on the match as ever she had been. ‘If you mean about your sister, no, I have not.’
‘Why not?’
‘It hardly seemed appropriate with you being ill. And I have seen so little of Miss Felicity this last week...’
‘Whose fault is that? I am told you have been preoccupied with that ridiculous wager to ride to York. It is hardly a way to win a lady, is it?’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Felicity herself.’
‘Then I ask pardon.’
‘It is not my pardon you should request but that of my sister,’ she said, her torment making her speak more sharply than she had intended.
‘Then of course I will do it.’
Mrs Bertram returned, followed by a maid with the tea-tray, and the conversation returned to generalities, which surprised Georgie, for she had expected her aunt to push for an early announcement. It was only as Richard rose to take his leave that Georgie said, ‘Major Baverstock tells me he is going to speak to Felicity very soon, Aunt.’
She was too cocooned in her own misery to notice Richard’s little start of surprise or her aunt’s eyebrows shoot up almost into her hairline before she collected herself and turned to him with a smile. ‘I am glad to hear it, Major. There has been too much speculation.’
He was astonished that Georgie should have mistaken his meaning in that fashion, but decided she had done it deliberately. He didn’t like being pushed, but it told him one thing - she had no feelings for him or she would not be able to thrust him at someone else. Perhaps it was her way of telling him that she had not intended to respond to his kiss in the way that she had. He did not think she’d been so deeply unconscious that she had not known what was happening. She had dismissed him and what else was there for him to do but leave?
As soon as he had gone Georgie sank back into the cushions of her chair and picked up the rug she had discarded when he’d come into the room, putting it back over her knees. They were shaking so much that she thought her aunt could not fail to notice.
‘So, he is going to do it after all,’ her aunt said. ‘I had begun to wonder.’
‘Wonder what?’
‘If I had been right to promote this match. He seemed not to be so sure as he had been.’
Georgie gave a hollow laugh. ‘I cannot imagine anyone making him do something he does not want to, Aunt. The rest is up to Felicity. My only aim is for her happiness; nothing else matters and she must not feel she is being forced into a marriage she does not want.’
‘Why do you say that?’ her aunt asked, peering at her short-sightedly. ‘Felicity has been in the Major’s company any number of times and she has never given the slightest hint she does not want it, has she?’
‘No.’ She paused and drew a deep breath. ‘Aunt, I would like to go home to Rowan Park as soon as possible.’
‘But you must wait for the announcement. It must be soon because the Colonel and I leave for Paris at the end of next week.’
‘I do not think it will be official until after that wretched race, Aunt. We can make the announcement from Rowan Park just as easily.’
‘But Felicity will not want to go with you. She has promised to spend a few days with the Herewards at Richmond.’
‘Then of course she must go. I can go home alone.’
‘No, you cannot.’
‘I have Fanny and Tom. It was how I arrived.’
‘That was different. You were not getting over a serious accident. Also, you were not half promised to Lord Barbour and Felicity had not yet met Major Baverstock, all of which makes a great difference. I cannot allow it.’
‘The doctor told me my recovery has not been as swift as he hoped and that the country air will do me good.’
This was perfectly true and the doctor confirmed it when asked by Mrs Bertram, but that didn’t alter the fact that there was no one to accompany her home. And then the doctor himself stepped in.
‘I have advised Viscount Dullingham to go home for his health’s sake,’ he said, returning later that same day. `He says he will be pleased to escort you and your maid back to Rowan Park tomorrow. I believe the houses are only fifteen miles distant from each other.’
Georgie did not quite know what to make of this offer, but in view of her aunt’s delight at her niece’s good fortune in being taken up by so illustrious a personage, and because she had no reason to refuse, she accepted gratefully.
His lordship was a pleasant companion and Georgie found him easy to talk to, once they had settled themselves in his roomy carriage, with Wendens and Fanny, and with Tom on the box beside the driver. Georgie’s own carriage had been left behind to be used by Felicity when she returned home. Fanny and Tom would return by stage to bring her back when her visit to Lady Hereward came to end. It seemed an ideal arrangement and allowed Mrs Bertram to supervise the closing of her house in Holles Street in peace. And Georgie managed to leave without encountering either Lord Barbour or Richard Baverstock again.
While they were in the coach in the presence of the servants the conversation was of general matters - the war just past, their hopes for lasting peace, the harvest to come and the price of grain, novels and music, horses and more horses. They passed through Islington Spa, a picturesque village with a pond on the green overhung with elms, then along the Holloway Road and up the hill to Highgate. East End was soon passed and then they were on Finchley Common and she was glad she had company for it was notorious for highwaymen. Once past the turnpike at Whetstone she relaxed and very soon afterwards they drew up at the Swan in Stevenage where rooms had been booked for the night.
His lordship asked her to join him for supper in the dining-room and she gladly agreed. Before long she was telling him all about her father and her life at Rowan Park, even a few of her problems, and he told her of his son - not too much, for it would not have been appropriate to speak of personal matters with one so young, but it was enough for her to realise that he loved Richard very much and regretted the wasted years. ‘I knew my wife was driving him away,’ he said. ‘And foolishly I did nothing to stop it.’ He asked her about her plans for the stables and about Felicity. She answered as truthfully as she could and he listened and learned. And what he learned worried him. He said nothing, for what could he say? It was up to the young people themselves to come about, but he hoped most fervently that it would not take too long and no lasting harm would be done.
They were crossing Royston Heath the following afternoon when their coach was brought to a shuddering halt by the sudden arrival on the road of three horsemen with covered faces and pistols at the ready.
‘High toby!’ exclaimed Wendens. ‘My lord, we are being held up!’
‘So I see,’ his lordship said dryly as one of the highwaymen dismounted and flung open the door of the coach. ‘Out, all of you.’
They thought it wisest not to argue. The man had his pistol at the ready and one of his companions was watching them with deep boot-button eyes; the other was covering the driver and Tom.
Once they were all standing in the road, their coach was searched, all their luggage turned out and anything of value stowed in the robbers’ saddle-bags. ‘Make it look good,’ one said to the others, a phrase which puzzled Georgie.
‘You will be punished for this,’ she said, incensed by the sight of all her clothes in a heap in the middle of the road and her trunk turned upside-down on top of them. ‘Do you think it is worth losing your life for a few paltry jewels?’
‘No, but that’s not all we’ll get, you can be sure.’ He grabbed his lordship’s watch and put it into his own waistcoat pocket.
‘Oh, I see. You mean to hold us for ransom. Let me tell you there is no money for a ransom...’
The man put his head back and laughed. ‘We ain’t interested in a long megs like you, miss, and we could wish you in Jericho, for what we are to do with you I don’t know.’
‘Then
it is Lor -’ She stopped and glanced at the Viscount. If they did not know who he was, she ought not to enlighten them.
‘We know who he is right and tight,’ said the one who seemed to be in charge. ‘Now, my lord, if you was to be so good as to step over to the bushes here. We don’t want to upset the lady, do we?’ He took his lordship’s arm and propelled him forward.
‘What are you going to do with him?’ Georgie demanded.
He was never to answer. From nowhere came the crack of a pistol and the robber dropped to his knees and rolled over, his head snapped back, revealing a thick black beard below the scarf he had tied about his face. His astonished companions turned as men appeared from the bushes, yelling and shouting and wielding clubs. The remaining highwaymen did not stop to count them or discover they had no other arms but the pistol which was now empty, but sprinted for their horses and disappeared over the heath in a cloud of dust.
Lord Dullingham, who had dropped to his knees when the man who held him fell, stood up, brushed himself down and turned to the men, who were only three in number. ‘I am obliged,’ he said, as calmly as if he were in a drawing-room.
‘That’s all right, sir, but obligations don’t buy bread, do they?’
His lordship did not immediately answer for he had turned the dead man over with the toe of his boot and had bent to remove the scarf from his face. Now he was looking down at him in something like a dream. Georgie suspected he was more shaken than he liked to appear; she was certain the men had meant to kill him, though why they should do so she had no idea. His delay in answering seemed to anger one of their rescuers. ‘Let’s see what the varmints left behind,’ he said, striding over to the coach. ‘Where d’you keep the readies? Hidden, are they?’
Lord Dullingham stirred himself at last. ‘What? Oh, of course I shall reward you.’ He went to the coach and pulled at one of the squabs. It came away to reveal a little niche in which was a small box. Before he could open it, it was snatched from his hand.
‘How dare you do that?’ Georgie shouted. ‘I know you. We saw you outside Bullock’s Museum begging, didn’t we? Major Baverstock spoke to you.’
‘So he did, ma’am. Didn’t see it was you, ma’am, but it don’ make no difference. We need the money.’
‘Is that how you repay kindness done to you? I am ashamed, truly ashamed, to think that any man who had been so generously treated could behave so. Do you not know who this gentleman is? He is Viscount Dullingham, the Major’s father.’
They looked at first resentful and then shamefaced, but the man who held the box did not relinquish it. She took it from him. ‘It was to Dullingham House the Major said you were to go, wasn’t it? Dullingham House is the home of his lordship. Do you think you deserve to be helped now?’
They looked sheepishly at the angry young woman in front of them and then burst out laughing. ‘We’re bested by a skirt, lads,’ their leader said.
The others grinned and reluctantly turned away, but were called back by Lord Dullingham. ‘What are your names?’
‘I’m Corporal Daniel Batson -leastways I was afore a grateful country decided to dispense with me services. This here’s Josh.’ He pointed to the taller of his companions, the one who had lost an arm. ‘And that’s Bill.’
‘And what did my son say to you, Corporal?’
‘Said if we was to go to Dullingham House we’d be given work. We was on our way there, but when we saw the coach stopped and the high tobies it seemed like our luck was in. I left fly the pop, didn’t mean to kill the man, but I reckon if I hadn’t he’d ha’ done you in, m’lord.’
‘Yes, I believe you are right,’ his lordship said slowly, taking his box from Georgie, who was clutching it to her bosom as if about to defend it with her life. He extracted three coins. ‘Here is a guinea each. Come to Dullingham House as my son suggested.’
‘And him?’ the Corporal asked, nodding towards the corpse.
‘Give me your pistol. I will notify the watch in the next town we come to that I put paid to the man’s life when he attacked us. I do not think there will be any questions asked.’ He held out his hand and the pistol was placed in it, then he turned to Fanny, who had bundled Georgie’s clothes back in her trunk. ‘Help your mistress back into the coach. It is time we were on our way, if we are to reach Rowan Park before dark.’
Five minutes later they were moving again, a silent, thoughtful company, for everyone had realised that they had had a lucky escape, especially his lordship. But who, wondered Georgie, wanted him dead? And though she ruminated about it for some time she could find no answer.
It was late when they reached Rowan Park, but there was enough light for his lordship to see that it was a neat, well-run establishment. He allowed Georgie to give him a quick tour of the stables, where he picked out two almost matching horses which he said would do very nicely for his carriage, and then, declining refreshment, took his leave. ‘I’ll send someone over for the cattle,’ he said and he waved her goodbye.
The next morning, clad once again in shirt and breeches, she rose early, ready to return to her usual routine. She was back at home, in the place she loved, doing what she most enjoyed doing, looking after her horses. Now she would settle down to become the old maid she had insisted she was and forget how she had loved and lost.
Bert Dawson was pleased to have her back and soon had Tom back at his work, while he escorted her on a round of inspection. She discovered that the gangling three-week-old foal was growing well and that Bright Star was making good progress. ‘She’s almost ready for her first gallop,’ he told her, knowing she would want to be the one to give it to her. ‘And Warrior has missed you.’
She laughed. ‘How do you know?’
‘He’s been off his oats, miss, and acting up; won’t let anyone near him without a lot of coaxing.’
She went to Grecian Warrior’s box and stroked his nose. ‘I’m back, Warrior, old fellow,’ she said softly. ‘No need to worry; no one else shall have you.’ Dawson looked at her with one eyebrow raised in a question, but she did not tell him that she had been thinking of Lord Barbour. The horse nudged at her pocket and she produced the apple he knew she always had there and left him munching contentedly.
‘Saddle Bright Star,’ she said. ‘I want to see what she’s got in her.’
An hour later, reining the filly in at the furthermost part of the gallops, she knew she had a winner. The horse would need careful training but she had no qualms about being able to do it. With luck she might even be ready for the next two-year-old stakes at Newmarket.
Two days later, she was walking Bright Star quietly back to the stables after her second gallop, when she noticed a rider on the horizon. He was standing quite still, watching her. ‘Have to watch our step,’ she murmured, leaning forward to pat the filly’s neck. ‘Can’t let everyone see how good you are.’
She turned to go back to the stables and the rider on the hill cantered towards her. She recognised the horse before she recognised him. There was no mistaking Pegasus. Her emotions, which she had thought she had under control, were once more thrown into confusion.
‘Miss Paget.’ He reined in beside her and touched his gloved hand to the brim of his hat.
‘Major Baverstock.’ Did she sound as confused as she felt? ‘How nice to see you.’
Chapter Seven
Without waiting for an invitation, Richard turned to ride alongside her. ‘I have come on an errand for my father. He tells me he has bought two of your horses. He wants me to take delivery of them.’
‘You have come from Dullingham House? I thought you were still in London. You have not quarrelled with Felicity, have you?’ She was acutely conscious of his tall figure beside her, his capable hands on the reins, hands which had carried her and held her. No, she told herself sternly, that must be forgotten as if it had never happened. She lifted her head and kept her eyes on the lane ahead of her.
He turned to look at her profile, the upturned nose, the jutting chin, b
oth giving the impression of stubbornness, but the small rosebud mouth and the dimple in the cheek softened that. ‘How could anyone quarrel with such a delightful young lady? You must know that your sister has gone to stay with Lady Hereward in Richmond, and as I had business in this area I took the opportunity to return home for a few days.’
‘What business?’ It was out before she could stop herself and she was forced to turn her head towards him. ‘I’m sorry. I should not have... Oh, dear, my foolish tongue.’
He laughed. ‘Do not apologise, Miss Paget; it does not suit you. And there is no secret. I came to see how Bright Star comes along.’ He surveyed the filly carefully. ‘She looks in peak condition.’
‘Did you see her gallop?’
‘Yes. She’s a good goer, I think, but should you be riding her yourself? After all, you have had a serious fall.’
‘I am fully recovered, Major. It was only a bump on the head.’
‘It was enough to keep you in bed a whole week.’
She blushed crimson at being caught out in the deception, but recouped quickly. ‘It suited me to keep to my room, Major.’
‘Oh.’ It would not have been polite to ask her why and he decided to change the subject. ‘Tell me about Bright Star.’
She felt easier when talking about horses and for the next few minutes she went over Bright Star’s training programme with him in a relaxed and informed manner and he was forced to the conclusion that she did know what she was talking about and he changed his mind about taking the filly’s training away from her. If the alternative to a prosperous stable was marriage to that blackguard Barbour, then the more he helped her to remain independent the better. ‘I think she could have her first outing at Newmarket next week,’ she said. ‘What do you think?’
‘Yes, but only if you are sure she will be ready.’
‘She will be ready.’
‘I also came looking for mounts to ride. My father has a few I can use, but I need more.’
