'He is exceedingly pleasant, and most attentive to you.'
Clare shrugged, but did not reply.
'Clare, are you blind? He obviously likes you, and it is quite possible he might offer for you.'
'What? Are you demented?' Clare asked, amazed. 'He must be as old as Father!'
'No,' Isabella said consideringly, 'hardly more than forty.'
'Forty! That is more than twice my age!'
'Such marriages take place every day, and are usually successful. He is kind and rich.'
'I want no rich marriage, and certainly not to an old man. I wish to marry Edward, and will not be constrained into any other marriage!'
Isabella said no more, content she had planted the idea in Clare's mind.
After breakfast the three girls walked in the gardens until the coach was ready, and Isabella noted the signs of wealth all around.
'All this will one day belong to Jason Marlowe if Lord Belvedere does not marry,' she commented. 'I am curious about this elusive Jason, and begin to think we shall never meet. What is he like?'
'You will meet him at the races, for he rides a new horse there, his uncle tells me,' Frances told her. 'He is handsome, exceedingly so, dark and very fashionable, but rather wild, with somewhat of the reputation of a rake. Mother says 'tis merely that he is young, and he will settle down one day. In fact – ' she paused, and Isabella looked at her.
'Go on.'
'Well, she thinks Jason would be a suitable husband for me.'
'Oh, I have heard nought. Are you betrothed?'
'Great Heavens, no!' Frances said, surprised. 'It is but an idea of my mother's. She merely mentioned the possibility one day. 'Twas after I received an offer from – ' again Frances paused.
'From an ineligible suitor?' Isabella suggested helpfully.
'Aye, but I do not know why I hesitated to tell you. Mayhap I felt he would not wish it known. Soon after he came to town Thomas approached Mother, and made her an offer for me, but she did not consider he had sufficient prospects.'
'And she still allows him to visit the house?' Isabella asked, in surprise.
'She made him promise not to speak to me on the matter, or to continue to hope. But she is kind, and he knew so few people in London. She warned me not to encourage him, and then mentioned some other possible husbands. But I do not wish to marry Jason.'
'Why not? He seems eligible – rich, handsome. Are you disturbed by his rakish tendencies?'
'No, not that. He frightens me.'
'Frightens you? Why?'
'I am being foolish. I think it is only because he is so sure of himself, and so determined to obtain what he wants.'
'Would your mother insist?' Clare spoke for the first time. 'If she did, would you obey?'
'It is normal for parents to choose the man their daughter marries, and I would have to submit,' Frances said after a pause. 'But Mother knows how I feel, and I am sure will take my wishes into account.'
'Parents, with more knowledge of the world, usually do know best,' Isabella remarked.
'No!' Clare argued vehemently. 'It is wrong parents should have such power over their children.'
'They are but endeavouring to provide us with secure futures.'
'Mayhap, but how often do they consider happy futures as well?' Clare demanded.
'You will be happy if you accept what is arranged for you with resignation.'
'You know my opinions do not ride with yours on this,' Clare said, shrugging her shoulders. 'I believe the people most closely involved should choose. At least Frances is rich and will not be constrained to marry for money,' she went on bitterly. 'She does not have to exhibit herself in the market place and be sold to the highest bidder!'
'Clare, you are exaggerating!'
'Am I? What else are you trying to do with me?'
Understandingly Frances slipped her arm round Clare's waist and hugged her, but before she could say any words of comfort a maid came to inform them the coach was ready, and they went to continue the journey.
*
Chapter 5
It was agreed they would ride to the racecourse on the first day of the meeting, after an early dinner. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was warm, and there were just a few feathery white clouds in the sky. A gentle breeze played over them as they rode towards the little village, about two miles distant, which was becoming so popular with the courtiers.
James Stuart, an ardent huntsman, had been the first to explore the possibilities of the heath, and from that time it had achieved a certain fame, races now being held regularly.
As they approached the course Isabella thrilled in response to the stirring scene before her. Hundreds of spectators thronged the heath, some seated in their carriages, others on foot, but many on horseback like themselves. They were spread out along the course, laughing, chatting, arguing over the merits of the racehorses, and making wagers on the results.
Clare scanned the course anxiously for a glimpse of Edward, but the crowd was so vast she could see no sign of him. She hoped he would be able to find them during the afternoon.
'We will sit by those trees,' Lady Lyndon said, leading the way. 'Here we have an excellent view of the finishes,' she explained to Isabella who rode beside her. 'It seems the first race is due to begin.'
They were scarcely in position before the noise about them changed in quality, becoming more charged with excitement. In the distance Isabella could see a small group of riders rapidly approaching them, and realised that they were the contestants for the first race. The noise increased as the spectators urged on their favourite horses, and Isabella felt the excitement rising within her. Although she had never before attended a race meeting, she was a fine horsewoman, and loved hunting and hawking.
'This is an unimportant race,' Lady Lyndon commented, 'for young riders and horses, to give them experience. The more important races come later.'
Isabella nodded, scarcely taking her eyes off the approaching horses. They were bunched closely together, but as they came nearer one of the horses broke away from the rest. A cheer went up from the crowd, cries of encouragement, and another horse sprang forward to challenge the leader, trailing him by half a length. Both riders were urging their mounts onwards, and to the intense excitement of the crowd the second horse gradually overhauled and passed the leader. Isabella was tense with excitement, and shouting encouragement along with the rest of the spectators. Then, suddenly, it was over. The slight advantage was maintained for just long enough for the overtaking rider to pass the winning post.
Isabella breathed a sigh of satisfaction and turned eagerly to discuss the race with Frances. Lady Lyndon was talking to Clare on her other side, explaining the niceties of the sport to her. After a while the excitement died down, the winner had been congratulated and had moved away, and everyone prepared for the second race. There were only four horses in this one, and it was clear from the start two of them had no chance whatsoever.
A gap developed almost immediately between the two leading horses and the others. One was a tall rangy chestnut, with long strides that took him over the ground at an amazing speed, but pace for pace he was matched by the black horse beside him, smaller and more compact, but with the strength and stamina to keep up with the speed of his long-legged rival.
For the entire distance of the race there seemed not an inch between the two horses, and the excitement amongst the spectators grew to a frenzy. Isabella was admiring the beauty of the two magnificent animals thundering towards her when a gasp from Clare and a cry of 'Edward!' made her look at the riders. She pursed her lips, recognising the black horse's jockey as Edward Willis. Grimly she watched, finding no satisfaction as Edward's horse, with a supreme effort, suddenly produced an extra burst of speed to pass the winning post head and neck in front of his rival. She turned to look at Clare, sitting with a rapturous smile on her face. Lady Lyndon, between the sisters, had also heard Clare's exclamation and turned towards her.
'Do you k
now him, my dear?' she queried in kindly fashion.
'Oh, yes!' Clare turned eagerly towards her. 'He is a neighbour of ours, Edward Willis. Did he not ride magnificently?'
'It was an excellent race. He did very well.'
Before Clare could answer Lord Belvedere intervened to suggest that they partake of refreshments which the servants had been sent to buy. Everyone dismounted and stood around chatting, sipping wine and eating small delicious cakes. Isabella was with her mother, who was recollecting race meetings she had attended before the wars, and did not notice when Edward approached the group until she heard a hastily suppressed exclamation from Clare. Isabella swung round to find herself facing Edward Willis, who was looking past her to Mistress Vaughan, bowing elegantly.
'Your servant, Ma'am. I am delighted to see you here.' He turned to pay his respects to Isabella and Clare. 'Are you enjoying your first visit to the races?' he asked them both, but with an intimate smile for Clare.
Isabella, furious he should presume to join them, was just about to administer a snub when she saw from the corner of her eye a tall, dark man standing beside Edward. What she had intended to say froze on her lips and she stared open-mouthed at this newcomer. He was regarding her with a slight smile on his lips, but a vastly amused expression in his eyes. It was the gallant she had crossed swords with at the Royal Exchange.
*
Before Isabella could recover her wits, Lord Belvedere spoke.
'Welcome, nephew. You were well beaten, but 'twas an excellent race.'
'I thank you, sir. May I introduce the victor, Mr Edward Willis, to you?'
Introductions were effected and Isabella, astounded by the discovery that the man she had thought of as Clare's would-be ravisher was Lord Belvedere's nephew Jason, scarcely managed a greeting to either him or Edward. Clare too had recognised Jason, but had not given him a second thought, her entire attention being devoted to Edward. Lady Lyndon was talking enthusiastically to him about horses, and praising his mount in the race.
'My uncle bred her, Ma'am,' Edward was explaining, 'and would dearly have loved to have ridden her himself, but he considers himself too old and gave the task to me. I am mightily thankful I did not let him down.'
'Is your uncle Colonel Willis?' Lady Lyndon asked, and Edward nodded.
'Aye. Do you know him? He is with his horse now.'
'Many years ago I knew him quite well,' she replied, 'but I have seen nought of him these last few years.'
'He has lived a quiet life during the Protectorate, and his horses have become his main interest.'
'He has found a worthy jockey. Mr Willis, I am holding a small party tonight, and would be pleased if you could come.'
Edward expressed his delight and Lady Lyndon, finding he stayed at the Falconer, the same inn where Jason was staying, briskly commanded the latter to show Mr Willis to her house. Smilingly Jason accepted her order, and then excused himself, saying he and Edward must prepare for the next race.
With a quick bow and a smile which encompassed the whole group, but lingered mockingly on the still speechless Isabella, he left. Clare retreated into a happy dream while Isabella fumed inwardly, both at the fact Edward had wormed his way into Lady Lyndon's good graces, and this impudent man she had clashed with before should turn out to be Lord Belvedere's rakish nephew. But there was nothing whatever she could do about it, and she had to submit with good grace to the thought of this evening, and the fact she would have to meet the two men again.
By this time the next race was starting, and Lady Lyndon's party returned to watch. This time there was little excitement, for the horses spread out immediately and maintained the same order throughout the whole of the race, never looking likely to vary it. As Isabella watched the horses troop past the winning post, a young man approached.
'What an exceedingly flat affair,' he commented, and Isabella turned with a cry of surprise towards him.
'Jack! What are you doing here? I had no idea you were in England!'
He grinned up at her. 'No, coz? I returned but a week ago. Aunt Jane, Clare, how do you do?'
'My dear Jack, how like you, always turning up unexpectedly. Margaret, I think you have not met my nephew? Sir Jack Vaughan, whose father was Captain Vaughan's elder brother.'
Lady Lyndon greeted the young man, smiling in friendly fashion. 'I have heard much of you, though, and am glad to meet you at last. You spent much time with my sister and her family in Brussels, I believe?'
'Yes,' Jack agreed. 'After my parents died it was home for me, until I left to go to the University.'
'This is my daughter Frances,' Lady Lyndon drew Frances forward, and Jack's expression changed slightly, his eyes growing warmer as he greeted her. Frances blushed under his gaze, and with a quick smile he murmured a few conventional words before turning to the Vaughans, who were full of questions about his doings since he had finished at the University. Laughingly he protested he could not answer all their questions at once.
'Then you must come to supper with us,' Lady Lyndon intervened. 'Mayhap you will have more time to talk then. Do you stay in Newmarket?'
'I intended to stay a few more days with a friend who has a house nearby. I would be delighted to sup with you.'
Lady Lyndon gave directions, and told him to bring his friend also, then Jack excused himself and moved away to greet another party. His place beside Lady Lyndon was filled immediately by Mr Samuel Aloysius who bowed ingratiatingly, and smiled round at the rest of the group. He was attired in a much beribboned brocade coat, far too ornate for the occasion, and sported a new chestnut-hued wig that fought with his ruddy complexion. After a few words to the Vaughans Mr Aloysius devoted himself to Lady Lyndon, mentioning he had ridden past her house on his way to the friends he was staying with.
'It looked a most delightful place,' he stated. 'A gem, I would say. Elizabethan, is it not?'
Lady Lyndon nodded. 'It is about a hundred years old, and in many ways vastly inconvenient. I have plans for modernising it.'
'Do not make big alterations without a great deal of thought,' he cautioned pompously. 'I have supervised the making of alterations in several houses, my own and my friends', and believe me, a great deal of money can be spent to no purpose if you do not plan at the outset precisely what you intend to do, and then make sure your workmen follow your instructions.'
'Oh, I shall look well to it, do not fear,' Lady Lyndon replied, amused.
The talk went on to other things, but eventually Lady Lyndon felt unable to ignore his broad hints any longer. She despised herself for her revulsion against the man, and invited him to her party that evening. Mr Aloysius threw a satisfied glance at Clare as he effusively accepted the invitation, and shortly afterwards, to everyone's relief, he took himself off.
'I do hope he will not be tedious tonight,' Lady Lyndon said. 'He is determined to give me advice, so I must ensure he does so quickly, and hope he is not for ever pushing to return to make sure his orders have been carried out! He seemed to be the sort of man who would do his utmost to interfere.'
'You are quite capable of telling him when his advice is not wanted,' Mistress Vaughan said, laughing. 'But why did you invite him tonight if you hold him in such aversion?'
'I felt I could do no other, after he had attempted to make himself so pleasant. 'Tis not his fault, poor man, that he is unattractive.'
*
The last race was about to begin. Both Edward and Jason were riding, Edward mounted on another of his uncle's horses, while Jason, Lord Belvedere informed them, was riding one of his, a powerful-looking grey.
'He has won several races before,' Lord Belvedere said, 'and Jason is confident there is nought to beat him in this field.'
His confidence seemed justified, for the grey came to the front immediately, drawing slowly away until the last mile of the course, when, to the joy of Clare and the excitement of everyone else Edward, riding another grey, was seen to be pulling ahead of the rest of the horses. For a while Edward's mou
nt, some four or five lengths behind, seemed unable to gain further on the leader, but both of them were drawing away from the rest of the field.
Excitement grew. The crowd, recognising the two riders who had run such a thrilling race earlier, roared encouragement, and Edward's horse seemed to respond to this for he gradually narrowed the gap. Then some fifty yards or so in front of the riders there was a diversion. A child, a girl no more than three or four years old, somehow escaped from her guardians and ran into the centre of the course, where she stood laughing with glee at the horses thundering down upon her. There was a gasp of anguish from the crowd. There were many horses in the race, bunched close together apart from the two in the front, and it was most unlikely they would all be able to avoid the child. She must be knocked down, kicked and trampled upon.
Before these thoughts were properly formulated in the minds of the onlookers, the two leading horses were close to the child. The spectators watched, spellbound, as Jason, mastering his mount's desire to gallop on, slowed his horse to a gentle canter as he drew level with the child. Jason leant down, and with a superb display of control over his horse, swooped the child up onto the pommel in front of him, then guided his horse out of the path of the other riders who were now almost upon him.
Edward had also tried to slow down, but his horsemanship was not of such a high standard as Jason's and he found himself swept past. Seeing the child was safe, he allowed his mount to gallop on, and despite his attempt to slow the horse, was the first past the winning post.
Jason found himself surrounded by a vociferous crowd of admirers, and then a young woman approached, weeping noisily, and the crowd made way for her.
'Mary, you naughty girl,' she cried. 'Oh, sir, I am so grateful to you! What would have happened to her? Oh, Mary!'
'I do not think she will be allowed to be in such danger again,' he said coolly, and then, brushing off the thanks and the admiration, he turned his horse and pushed his way out of the crowd. Cautiously Jason rode along the rest of the course and, as the animal seemed to have come to no harm from his somewhat abrupt stop, Jason gently urged him to a trot. Reaching the other riders, he encountered another wave of admiring congratulations.
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