by Rosie Harris
It was all very well Russ saying that jeans and a sweater would do, but she only had his word for it. She toyed with the idea of buying some really expensive jodhpurs and a black velvet jacket. There was something so dashing about the cut of riding clothes that she couldn’t resist trying them on when she went on her final shopping spree, even though she couldn’t ride.
As she was leaving the Sloane Square store, an outfit on one of the display models caught her attention. With trembling fingers she eased the skin tight tawny leather trousers over her legs and hips. They fitted as sleekly and smoothly as a second skin. The matching top was trimmed and deeply fringed with the softest of cream leather that moved sensuously over her hips and thighs, seductively concealing yet, at the same time revealing, the skin tight trousers. As her fingers slid down over the doe-soft material she knew she must have it.
The assistant smiled approvingly and handed her a matching cowboy-style hat, rakishly caught up at one side with an ornate silver clasp, and Lucy recognised it as the final touch. Without any hesitation she handed over her charge card.
Her own extravagances paled into insignificance when she saw Walford Grange. As they entered the courtyard through the porticoed gateway, and walked across to the magnificent Elizabethan house, Lucy caught her breath in wonder.
She marvelled at the enormous stone fireplace that dominated one end of the great entrance hall and at the minstrel gallery facing it, and the collection of life-size family portraits painted in oils and framed in massive gilt frames that adorned the walls of the wide staircase.
Russell walked past them as if they were not there, through an elegant dining room, dominated by a massive rosewood table and spoon-backed rosewood chairs, and on into a comfortable chintzy sitting room where a crackling log fire provided welcoming warmth.
‘I’m sure you are gasping for a cup of tea after your journey,’ Mrs Campbell sympathised, as she greeted them, pecking Lucy on both cheeks and permitting Russell to give her a restrained hug.
She sat very upright in one of the big armchairs, elegant in her red silk dress with its pleated skirt. Sitting beside Russell, on a settee facing Mrs Campbell, Lucy sipped her tea and nibbled at the cucumber sandwiches, awestruck by her mother-in-law’s cool self-assurance. She had no idea how to address her. Russell called her ‘Mater’ but she couldn’t bring herself to even say the word, it sounded so pompous, almost ludicrous.
As soon as she and Russell were on their own, she asked his advice.
‘I’ve no idea,’ he frowned, shaking his sandy head in bewilderment. ‘What do you call your own mother?’
‘“Mum”, usually.’
He repeated the word as though it was something strange and foreign and his frown deepened.
‘It doesn’t really fit your mother, does it,’ Lucy said tentatively.
‘No, you’re quite right. Perhaps you should call them both by their first names. My father’s is Robert, and my mother’s is Kate. Mind you,’ he grinned, ‘I rather think my father would prefer “Colonel”.’
‘I’m sure he would! And since that is how I always think of him I shall go on calling him that. It’s how I should address your mother that bothers me.’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll find the answer,’ he told her. ‘I’m sure the two of you are going to get on terribly well. Come on,’ he took her arm, ‘I want to show you around.’
For the first few days, Lucy felt nervous and ill at ease. The Campbells’ lavish life-style was quite different from anything she had ever experienced.
Her own mother had always been busy, helping out on the farm, from the moment she got up in the morning until she sat down after supper in the evenings, and she’d had hardly any time for her own interests.
Mrs Campbell’s days were a complete contrast. She was organiser for numerous Charities, a member of the Parish Council, a magistrate and a school Governor. In addition, she seemed to lead a very busy social life. She was constantly talking on the phone, and her cool decisive manner, and the authority in her voice, left Lucy feeling quite over-awed.
Each morning, immediately after breakfast, Colonel Campbell insisted that Russell should accompany him on his morning ride. After that, either they went to Home Farm so that the Colonel could show him the latest improvements and inspect the stock or into the Colonel’s study to discuss future plans for the Estate. As a result, for the greater part of each day, Lucy found herself either left to her own devices or with no alternative but to accompany Mrs Campbell.
Although she didn’t really enjoy these occasions she found that at least they provided her with an opportunity to wear all the new clothes she had bought for her visit. And, she was gratified to find that she had chosen well and that everything she wore seemed to meet with her mother-in-law’s approval.
Russell had grown up at Walford Grange so people were eager to meet his new wife and Lucy felt delighted by the impression she was creating. The evenings, in particular, were exciting and she greatly enjoyed dressing up and looking her most glamorous for the whirlwind of dinners and parties. She enjoyed being the centre of attention and the envy of most of the women present.
She also found her feelings for Russell deepening. When they had first met she had been attracted by the glamour of his uniform, and the thrill of knowing that he was an officer. She had given hardly any thought to his character or personality, except that he was fun to be with and she felt happy in his company.
Since they had been at Walford Grange, she had discovered that there was a serious side to his nature. Listening to his erudite discussions with the Colonel she was astounded by his knowledge on farming matters. Seeing him striding across a meadow in tweed jacket, jeans and wellingtons or looking debonair in evening dress, she felt proud to be his wife.
The second Friday that they were at Walford Grange, Colonel Campbell announced that he’d arranged a Meet for the following day. He’d invited all the most prominent families in the county and his enthusiasm was infectious.
‘Your wife shall be the first to be blooded,’ he told Russell, as they finalised details over dinner that evening.
Lucy looked agonisingly at Russell, hoping he would help her out of her predicament, and was dumbfounded when she saw the gleam of pleasure in his green eyes at the honour his father was conferring on her.
Haltingly, she explained that she didn’t ride, then sat staring down at her plate, wishing the floor would open as her admission was met by stunned disbelief.
Hesitantly, she looked across the table and saw the mixture of consternation and chagrin on Russell’s face. His mouth was set in a grim line and his eyes, as they met hers, were emerald hard.
‘Lucy and I will see you off and afterwards we will drive over to The Pheasant and meet you there for luncheon,’ Mrs Campbell said coolly, breaking the agonising silence.
‘But surely you’ll be riding with us, my dear?’ The Colonel boomed. He looked perplexed, his neck flushed angrily and his sandy brows pulled together in bewilderment.
Lucy’s gaze darted between them, then to Russell, but he remained tight-lipped. She opened her mouth to protest that it was unnecessary for Mrs Campbell to spoil her day’s sport on her account but found herself unable to speak.
Later, lying in the huge four-poster bed, she tried to explain to Russell that, unlike him, she had never had the opportunity to learn to ride.
‘You grew up on a farm, so why on earth not!’ he exclaimed in disbelief, turning away and hunching the bedclothes round his shoulders.
Miserably, she tried to explain that it had been a working farm and that the animals they had kept were mostly milking cows, and heifers which they fattened up for market, but he’d made no response.
Lucy was still asleep next morning when the Colonel banged on their bedroom door, calling out that they were almost ready to leave.
‘You are going to come down and see us off,’ Russell said curtly as he fastened his stock.
‘Must I, Russell?’
‘It’s the least you can do! Father arranged this event for your benefit … before we all learned you couldn’t ride!’
Lucy looked at him imploringly, tears welling up in her eyes, longing for him to take her in his arms. Instead Russell looked at his watch and let out an impatient whistle. ‘You’d better get dressed,’ he ordered, as he crossed to the window and looked out.
‘What shall I wear?’
‘Just slip on your jeans and a sweater, they’re already starting to assemble in the courtyard.’
It was a bright, crisp morning and the horses’ breath hung like mist on the frosty air as they champed, tossed their heads and pawed the ground impatient to be off. The Colonel, and half a dozen other men in scarlet hunting coats, looked tremendously impressive as they sat their horses. The air was charged with excitement as the pack of liver-and-white hounds, tails erect, milled around their feet.
Mrs Campbell, wearing a smart green tweed trouser suit, and a white polo-necked sweater, dispensed glasses of hot punch to all the riders. Standing in the shelter of the doorway, Lucy felt very insignificant and out of things.
From the moment he’d mounted his lively black stallion, Russell had ignored her. At first she had thought it was because he was having so much trouble controlling his horse but even after he had calmed the handsome beast he had not returned to talk to her. Instead he had drawn rein on the far side of the courtyard and was in animated conversation with a slim dark-haired girl with a long thin face and wide-spaced dark eyes, mounted on a grey gelding.
‘That’s Melany Buscombe. They live about ten miles from here,’ Mrs Campbell told her crisply. ‘Melany and Russell grew up together and have always been close friends. In fact, until quite recently, they did most things together. Everyone always thought …’ she hesitated, her mouth tightened and she gave a little shrug before moving away and busying herself collecting up the glasses.
Lucy sensed the implication and she felt too choked to speak. The strange turbulent sensation tearing at her heart could be only one thing … jealousy!
Miserably she stared across at Russell. It was the first time she had ever seen him in riding habit. The close-fitting black jacket emphasised his broad shoulders and slim hips, and as she lovingly studied his strong jawline, prominent cheekbones and firm decisive mouth, she was left in no doubt that he was the most handsome man present. She felt desolate. It was bad enough that she had let him down by not being able to ride alongside him, but to see him so engrossed with Melany Buscombe, and so obviously enjoying her company, added to her humiliation.
The huntsman’s horn sounded and they all surged towards the porticoed gateway, horses and riders jostling each other in their eagerness, hounds barking and whining as they, too, struggled to take up the lead.
Lucy watched them cantering away into the distance, the red coats leading the field, Russell and Melany galloping side by side. She turned away, feeling inwardly bruised and betrayed. She sensed her mother-in-law was watching her and angrily brushed away her tears with the back of her hand.
‘We can leave whenever you are ready,’ Mrs Campbell said briskly. ‘I’ll take you on a tour round some of the local beauty spots, a much better idea than moping around here until lunchtime.’
‘I … I would like to get changed first.’
‘Good!’ There was an understanding gleam in Mrs Campbell’s eyes.
‘I … I won’t take long?’
‘Ten minutes do?’
Head high, Lucy went up to her room. With trembling fingers she unpacked the expensive leather outfit that so far she had not even shown to Russell. It was every bit as flattering as when she had tried it on in the shop and the hard core of uncertainty inside her began to dissolve.
Mrs Campbell regarded her with an expression of mild astonishment when she rejoined her.
‘I’m ready!’ Lucy said and her chin went up defiantly.
‘Yes, I can see that. Very stunning! It should prove sensational … quite a winner,’ Mrs Campbell commented drily as she picked up her car keys.
Their eyes levelled.
‘It will be the winner … Kate,’ Lucy said with spirit as she followed her mother-in-law out to the car.
Chapter 24
The Lounge Bar of The Pheasant was soon packed to capacity as the Hunt arrived, muddy and sweaty, all talking vociferously about their own particular exploits.
While several of them were sympathising with Kate because she had missed all the excitement, Lucy looked round for Russell. He was not amongst the early arrivals and as the room became more and more crowded she realised he was not there at all. Nor was Melany Buscombe!
A mixture of anger and fear welled up inside her. How could Russell do this to her, treat her in such a cavalier fashion in front of all these people? She stood there feeling bitterly hurt, hating him, and unsure of what to do. She wanted desperately to run out of the place but knew that would only fuel the fire.
By the time Kate turned to her and said, ‘Have you heard about the accident?’ she had herself under control.
‘No?’ she looked enquiringly at her mother-in-law.
‘Melany’s horse fell. She is not badly hurt but she has had to go to the hospital for a couple of stitches. Russell has gone with her. We will have to start lunch without them.’
‘Do you want me to save him a seat?’
‘I don’t think that will be possible. I’m sure more people have turned up than we estimated. Probably the best thing is for you to sit with Carlile Randell since he will be on his own if Melany is missing.’
‘Who?’ Lucy looked at her blankly.
‘Come on, I’ll introduce you,’ Kate told her, taking her arm and steering her towards a darkly handsome man in his late thirties. Unlike everyone else in the room, he did not look as if he had been out with the Hunt, but was impeccably dressed in fawn slacks and a brown jacket.
After she had introduced them, and commiserated with Carlile about Melany’s accident, Kate left them together.
‘I must go and join the Colonel,’ she explained. ‘Lucy knows hardly anyone here, so will you look after her, Carlile.’
‘My pleasure!’ he replied without looking at Kate.
His dark blue eyes studied Lucy speculatively and he decided he liked what he saw. She was the complete opposite of Melany and he was intrigued by her attractive figure, the peaches and cream complexion and the kissable, pouty red lips.
Melany might be far more elegant, with her willowy figure and classic features, but she was always so serious that sometimes he longed for a more frivolous companion. Now this delicious little filly, he thought approvingly, giving Lucy a winning smile, looked fun-loving and frisky. And, he thought shrewdly, like him, she didn’t appear to be enamoured by the rigours of the hunting field.
‘Well,’ he breathed, taking her small soft hand in his, ‘this could be quite a challenge. What are we going to talk about? If we make “Hunting, Melany and Russell” taboo subjects, what is left?’
Lucy’s forget-me-not eyes widened innocently as she gazed up at the lean face with its hawkish nose, so prominent that it made an already weak chin look positively receding. ‘I suppose we could talk about you,’ she murmured, with a cheeky smile.
‘I can’t think of a better subject,’ Carlile agreed, with a roar of laughter that had heads turning in their direction.
With the ice broken, Lucy found Carlile a highly entertaining escort. He was a fount of information about everyone present, and was able to add an entertaining anecdote about each of them. By the time they were halfway through the meal, Lucy felt she knew most of the people present as intimately as if she had lived amongst them for years.
Carlile also had a clever way of making her tell more about herself than she meant to do. Within a very short space of time he knew all about her background, and that her sister was married to a sergeant in the same Regiment as Russell.
The information amused him greatly and he stored it away in his fertile mind for futur
e use. Although not an army man himself, he knew enough about such matters to appreciate the problems such a relationship could bring. Looking at Lucy’s smiling, open face, he shrewdly assumed that she did not.
Russell and Melany arrived a little later. Everyone made a great fuss of them both, especially of Melany who had her arm in a sling. The Colonel insisted that they both sat at his table so Lucy remained where she was with Carlile Randell until the meal was over.
She was both surprised and hurt when she finally managed to be with Russell to find him in a black mood and claiming that she had been flirting with Carlile.
‘Flirting with him!’ she exclaimed in genuine astonishment. ‘Your mother introduced us and asked him to sit next to me because you had disappeared with Melany Buscombe.’
‘I felt it was my duty to take her to hospital,’ he said stiffly.
‘And how was I to know that? You didn’t even bother to leave a message to let me know where you had gone. I only found out by hearing other people talking about it,’ she exclaimed struggling to keep her voice steady.
A dull flush crept up from Russell’s neck and darkened his face. His lips tightened angrily but he refused to be drawn. Instead, he returned to his attack about her behaviour with Carlile.
‘I know what I’m talking about, Lucy, I could see you both quite clearly from where I was sitting,’ Russell growled.
‘We were only chatting,’ Lucy exclaimed indignantly.
‘From where I was it didn’t look quite as innocent as that. I would say you were openly flirting with him.’
‘I most certainly was not!’
‘I can’t recall you looking so attentively into my eyes when we’ve been “just chatting”,’ Russell said sardonically.
‘Perhaps you are not as scintillating,’ she said, tossing her head defiantly.
‘Other people noticed as well,’ Russell muttered irritably.
‘Really! I suppose by that you mean Melany …’
‘Yes, Melany for one. In fact, I dread to think what she must have been thinking.’
