Society's Most Scandalous Rake

by Isabelle Goddard

  * * *

  However, the next morning she had changed her mind. A perfect English summer day greeted her, cotton-wool clouds drifting lazily across an azure sky, and the green perfection of ancient downland rolling out its smooth carpet to welcome them as they drove the few miles inland to Lewes. The racecourse, some five hundred feet above sea level, was idyllic on a tranquil day such as this. Shaped like an elongated horseshoe, it ran along the crest of a valley and then downwards towards the sea, its natural undulations making it a test of stamina and tactics for both horses and riders.

  A decidedly mixed crowd had already gathered by the side of the track and Alfredo silently wondered if he had dismissed Carmela’s qualms too readily. Every type of person, it seemed, had come to the Lewes races that day: prosperous farmers and their wives; rural workers in smocks and gaiters; smartly dressed professional men and their clients; sellers of every kind of food and drink vociferously shouting their wares and any number of ragged urchins. As their hired vehicle drove on to the course, he saw with relief that the cream of society had decided on keeping a comfortable distance from this ragbag of humanity. A large white-painted grandstand was alive with the colourful swathe of silk gowns and feathered hats. It seemed that the Regent and his party were already ensconced in commodious chairs with an unparalleled view of the entire course.

  As the races began, Alfredo felt even greater relief. The gambling that Carmela had so feared was modest and conducted with decorum, so much so that, towards the end of the programme, he was encouraged to place a wager on a likely looking horse. The result of the race was in doubt right up to the finishing point and Domino, immersed in the spectacle, cheered on her horse with such verve that her father was delighted they had come. For some weeks, he fancied, she had not been herself. In his presence she tried to be bright and talkative, but whenever she thought herself unobserved, she fell back into a preoccupation that he could not fathom. Now the glorious weather and glorious landscape, the sheer excitement of the chase, had prompted her to throw herself into the moment as only she could. Her arms waved wildly in the air as their horse breasted the finishing post first. With difficulty she restrained herself from jumping up and down.

  ‘I see you have been a clever girl and backed the winner. I fear that my luck is completely out today.’

  Domino looked round at the woman who had spoken and her heart sank. She had been relieved to find that Joshua had kept his word and stayed away. Now her father had chosen the worst moment to collect his winnings, leaving her to face the duchess alone. This was the first time she had met Charlotte Severn since that dreadful evening at Steine House. But the older woman, resplendent in sapphire satin, was smiling invitingly at her and patting her hand in what Domino supposed to be a motherly fashion.

  ‘Such energy needs sustenance.’ The duchess’s voice had taken on the cloying tone that was so discomfiting.

  ‘Do accompany me to the marquee,’ she persuaded, ‘we must take tea together.’

  The girl began to demur, but Charlotte immediately linked arms with her and urged her forwards. ‘Don’t worry about your papa. When he returns he will be sure to know where you have gone and will come to collect you.’

  Very quickly Domino found herself seated at one of the small ironwork tables that dotted the interior of the marquee, a waiter pouring the pale straw of China tea into delicate white porcelain.

  The duchess fixed her with eyes that smiled through a pool of ice.

  ‘I am so pleased to see you again, Domino,’ she was saying sweetly. ‘I do hope I may call you by your first name.’

  Domino was hypnotised into assent.

  ‘I was most upset by the way that we parted at Steine House. Such a dreadful misunderstanding on my part. I had no idea that you were so averse to cards—though obviously not to gambling in general.’ Her voice momentarily lost its honey as she nodded pointedly towards the races still taking place.

  Her victim squirmed, remembering her gauche behaviour that evening. And to be discovered now in the very pastime she had rejected so publicly!

  But Her Grace was continuing smoothly, preparing her ground with the girl she was seeking to undo. ‘I am so very sorry,’ she trilled, ‘if anything I did or said at the time upset you.’

  Domino could hardly reject the older woman’s plea after this show of contrition. The duchess’s deep blue eyes held hers in a seemingly sincere appeal and she found herself softening towards their owner.

  Her natural good nature won over whatever reservations she still harboured and in a small voice she confessed, ‘I am sorry, too—my conduct must have seemed a little strange.’

  ‘No, my dear, absolutely not.’ Charlotte Severn was determined on complete abasement. ‘The fault was entirely mine. But I hope we can mend our fences. I so much wish us to be friends.’

  Domino would have liked to believe her, but could not. An older female friend—someone she could confide in, someone with the maturity and experience to guide her through the pitfalls of English society—was a luxury she must do without. She had lost the person who might have filled the role admirably; Christabel was long married and living many miles away.

  ‘It is as I told you, my dear,’ the duchess was saying pleasantly, ‘there are very few new people in Brighton. An old hand like myself can become seriously blasé, not to say boring, if we are not kept on our toes. I adore young people and you are so bright and lovely.’

  Charlotte was having an effect. Today she appeared more genuine and more approachable. ‘You know, if Mr Marchmain had not interrupted us that evening, I am sure we would have quickly resolved our differences. But Joshua is always so hot-headed.’ She gave a soft sigh of pain. ‘Have you not found that also?’

  ‘I hardly know Mr Marchmain.’ Domino stammered.

  ‘Really? I understood that you were a good friend of his.’

  ‘Indeed, no, ma’am,’ she replied indignantly.

  ‘I hope you are not too cross with him. I know he can be a little unconventional.’

  ‘As I said, I hardly know him.’

  The girl’s flushed face warned Charlotte not to pursue her line of questioning and she changed tack.

  ‘Tell me what you have been doing since we last met,’ she invited.

  Relieved at the turn of conversation, Domino gladly searched her mind for something to report. ‘Nothing very noteworthy, I’m afraid—reading, walking—and I did try sea bathing,’ she ventured.

  ‘You are so brave, my dear. I would be utterly scared of immersing myself in water.’

  ‘I learned to swim as a child—we lived by the sea in Buenos Aires.’

  The duchess looked questioningly at her, hoping to probe a little more deeply.

  ‘In Argentina,’ Domino said helpfully.

  ‘Yes,’ the duchess responded a trifle waspishly. ‘I am aware of that city’s location.’ Then, quickly recovering, she cooed, ‘I have the greatest admiration for ladies who can boast such sporting prowess. As for myself, all I can claim is to ride well and I do pride myself on that.’

  ‘I adore riding, too. Papa put me on my first horse when I was three. But riding in Argentina is very different,’ Domino confided wistfully.

  The duchess scented an opportunity. ‘How is that?’

  ‘Once out of the city you can gallop forever—the pampas stretches for miles. And on a proper saddle, too, just like the gentlemen use here.’

  Charlotte repressed a shudder and murmured encouragingly, ‘How wonderful.’

  ‘Here—’ Domino warmed to her theme ‘—one feels so constrained. Always having to ride sidesaddle and so tamely. Ladies are not permitted to gallop and certainly not to race.’

  ‘If it were possible, would you do so?’ the duchess asked cannily.

  ‘It would certainly be fun!�
� and Domino threw back her head and laughed aloud.

  Seeing the girl’s dark eyes alight with merriment and her shining curls dancing in pleasure, the older woman felt a surge of envy.

  ‘Of course one would not race openly, but maybe a race in a more secluded place?’ she suggested, apparently absorbed in stirring her tea.

  ‘Wherever would that be, ma’am?’ Domino’s voice conveyed interest and the duchess moved in for the final scene of the little drama she had been busy staging.

  ‘Have you heard of Prince George’s famous wager?’

  The girl shook her head.

  ‘He bet that he could drive a coach and four down Keere Street, just a short way from here. It is the steepest and narrowest of roads in Lewes. And do you know, he won that wager!’

  ‘He must be very expert.’

  ‘Yes,’ her companion said judiciously, ‘but I have it in mind that we women could undertake something even more masterly.’

  ‘How could we do that?’

  ‘Why, by racing our horses down Keere Street,’ the duchess produced triumphantly.

  Her companion at first looked nonplussed, then her face fell into a frown. ‘But surely that would be dangerous.’

  ‘Skilful, shall we say?’ Charlotte said in her smoothest voice. ‘We would not be hurtling down the road pell mell. It would take considerable expertise to negotiate the steep gradient and find a clear way over stones and cobbles. A very considerable feat!’

  ‘It would certainly be a test of horsemanship.’

  ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘You mean that we should race?’

  ‘Why not?’ The duchess smiled as warmly as she could. ‘I am longing to do something a little more daring than attending routs and receptions; it seems that you feel similarly. You said a moment ago that you have been in the saddle since you were three years old, so now is the chance to prove it.’

  ‘I would love to, Your Grace, but I doubt that my father would allow me to undertake such a race.’

  ‘Charlotte, my dear, call me Charlotte. It’s really quite simple. Say nothing to your father and I will tell no one either. It will be our little secret.’

  ‘But how could we prevent people knowing?’

  The duchess’s patience was wearing thin, but she made one last effort. ‘We ride over the Downs to Lewes very early in the morning before anyone stirs. It is a shame that we will never be able to boast of our exploit, but we will have the satisfaction of knowing just how clever we have been.’

  Domino was seized with a sudden panic. ‘Are you quite sure that it’s possible to ride down that road?’

  ‘I would not have suggested it if I had thought otherwise, but if you are fearful then, of course, you must not attempt it, my dear.’

  Annoyance rippled through Domino as her courage was subtly brought into question.

  ‘And we will not tell anyone?’ she asked, seeking more reassurance.

  ‘Not a soul. No one will ever know—just we two.’

  ‘When shall we hold the race?’

  A silent joy engulfed the duchess. She had caught her fish at last. ‘What about the day after tomorrow? That will give us the opportunity to choose suitable horses.’

  ‘And when shall we meet?’

  ‘Just after dawn I think, around five o’ clock. The Downs will be wonderful at that time.’

  ‘And we will both come alone?’

  ‘Completely alone,’ Charlotte reassured her. ‘We will meet at the crossroads that lead into the town and then ride the few paces to Keere Street together.’

  She paused for a moment and then said musingly, ‘I think I shall make a laurel crown for the victor—though whoever wins will have to keep it hidden!’

  Domino laughed brightly, but her determination to win the laurel crown was strong. She had agreed to the duchess’s wild suggestion because she had not wanted to appear cowardly, but she was filled also with a fierce desire to beat the woman. A sharp frisson of pleasure had shot through her at the idea that in this one respect she might vanquish the duchess, even though she could not rival her in love. It was not a thought she intended to examine too closely.

  Her father was walking towards them and bowing courteously. ‘Your Grace. The races are nearly over, querida. Shall we go?’

  ‘You are not cross, Papa?’ she enquired, as he led her back to their place in the grandstand.

  ‘No, my dear, I am not cross, but don’t make a habit of spending time with that lady.’

  Domino said nothing but consoled herself with the thought that she would be spending only an hour or two with the duchess and that, in any case, no one would ever know.

  * * *

  As the last folds of Domino’s jonquil gauze cleared the tent flaps, Leo Moncaster appeared from the shadows and took her vacated chair.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s fixed, I have caught her. The day after tomorrow.’

  ‘So I can spread the good news?’

  ‘As quickly as you can, Leo. Make sure one of your cronies opens a book and encourage all your acquaintance to wager on the result. When the scandal breaks, I want it to be as big as possible. But don’t let the news get to her father.’

  ‘Isn’t she likely to mention it?’

  The duchess smiled wryly. ‘How little you know! Girls never divulge their misdemeanours to their papas. In any case it’s to be “our little secret”.’ She screwed up her face in distaste. ‘The sooner I rid the town of the señorita, the better!’

  ‘To have men betting heavily on the race will destroy her reputation completely,’ Moncaster muttered grimly. ‘She will be the only topic of gossip for months ahead.’

  The duchess’s smile creased her face until her companion continued, ‘But what about you? You will be subject to the same gossip.’

  She looked at him stonily. ‘I think, Leo, that my credit will stand me in better stead than our young friend’s.’ Then, shrugging her shoulders, ‘There is no way I will ride that road. It’s a death trap.’

  ‘So you won’t turn up?’

  ‘I shall meet her as planned, but only to lead her straight to the audience waiting at Keere Street. You must invite the most inveterate gossips you can find as witnesses. I will be the good friend who is trying to protect her from scandal. I shall be outraged that she should have considered such an exploit!’

  Leo looked doubtful. ‘That’s all very well, but she is bound to expose your part in setting up the race.’

  ‘She may try, but nobody will believe her. I shall say that she was intent on persuading me to race. I tried to deter her but without success. I have come now only to make one last effort to save her.’

  ‘I like it,’ Leo mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘You will be seen as a saintly Samaritan and she a reckless girl who cares nothing for her reputation and is happy to outrage the ton for some shocking spree.’

  ‘Exactly. When she sees that everyone is against her, she will flee English society. I warrant she will be on the next boat to Europe.’

  ‘Very neat, Charlotte. It will destroy her utterly, but leave you glowing with virtue.’

  ‘Admit it, I am as good a conspirator as you!’ the duchess blazed with pride.

  ‘Don’t forget that I was the one who revealed her weakness to you.’

  ‘And how has that helped today?’

  ‘Simple. With her predilection for gambling, it was always probable that she would be seduced by a likely wager.’

  The duchess was in benevolent mood. ‘Let us call it a draw. If all goes the way I have planned, we will both end content.’

  * * *

  Domino started to entertain doubts even before she regained Marine Parade. This mad adv
enture offered her a last exhilarating grasp at freedom, but it began to strike her as being a little too mad. Still, it had been Charlotte Severn who suggested this daring exploit and, though her father did not approve of the duchess, she was a great lady and moved in the very best circles. Nothing she did could ever be truly wrong, or rather, Domino corrected herself, ever be truly challenged. And the race would wrongfoot Joshua. While she was revelling in the company of his mistress, he would still be abed and unknowing. For once she would be free of his interference.

  Nevertheless, the more she considered the matter, the less sure she felt. She could not tell her father what was afoot, certainly not Carmela, and it would be wrong to involve Flora. It was a secret she must keep alone. She hugged the knowledge to herself, gradually building the pleasures of the race in her mind. She was an accomplished horsewoman and there was a good chance she would beat the duchess. Charlotte Severn would make a satisfying adversary; to defeat her would be worth every one of Domino’s present anxieties. She could not warm to the woman and the spectre of her liaison with Joshua was never far from mind. Even if she were to lose, forbidden pleasures were in store: to ride at full stretch for the first time since she had left Argentina, to feel the wind in her hair and herself lone mistress of the Downs.

  * * *

  And so it proved. She had taken the precaution of ordering a horse from stables some way from Marine Parade. They were situated at the very beginning of Juggs Way, the winding path used by Brighton fishwives on their way to sell their menfolk’s catches to the good citizens of Lewes and surrounding villages. It was a lengthy walk from the seafront and meant Domino had to rise very early. The sun was only just emerging from a dawn mist when she swung herself up into the saddle and coaxed the neat bay she had hired over the courtyard cobbles on to the Downs. She had been assured that the pretty mare was the swiftest in the stables.

  It was a glorious morning, the air still and translucent, with the sun’s emerging rays only just beginning to warm her face as she headed eastwards. Small hedges fenced the lower slopes of the Downs and were filled with the scent of honeysuckle and the sound of birdsong. Once clear of them, she allowed the horse to stride into a canter over the close-cropped grass and rolling folds of the hills. She wanted the mare to be fresh for the race, but not too fresh.