The Winning Post Is Love

by Barbara Cartland

  She paused, but the Marquis did not speak and she went on,

  “There could be many new visitors coming into the County, new shops and new hotels simply because of the Race Meetings.”

  The Marquis made a murmur, so she added quickly,

  “It would attract people down from London as well as those who never cross our borders as there is nothing particular here to interest them.”

  She spoke in a manner that not only surprised the Marquis, but made it impossible for him not to listen to her.

  She was pleading with him, but at the same time, he was well aware that she was telling him it was his duty.

  It was an idea he should have thought of himself and tonight was something that had never happened to him before.

  He realised he could almost read Rosetta’s thoughts and he could sense that she was thinking he was selfish and indifferent to those dependant upon him.

  He turned away from her gaze to look down at the plans again and then he enquired politely,

  “Tell me exactly where this is on your estate and where does it come into mine.”

  Gordon took a pencil from the writing table and, as he did so, Rosetta moved closer to the Marquis.

  “This is Monkswood here,” she pointed to the plan. “This side of Monkswood is where you shoot. Although it is some way from The Castle, you would have an excellent view of the Racecourse from your Tower.”

  “How do you know?” the Marquis asked sharply.

  “Because I can use my eyes, my Lord. When I was riding, and I admit trespassing, over your land last week, I was thinking what an excellent view you have of the land that lies in front of you, but what a pity that it is absolutely barren without even a house or cottage on it.”

  “I like it that way,” the Marquis replied stubbornly.

  “A Racecourse would only enhance your view and it would cause no trouble to you if all the villages beyond your gates became more prosperous and increased their population.”

  She waited for him to reply and then she added,

  “Meadowfield village is now so short of inhabitants that the Vicar of Little Sowerby goes to the Church there only once a month.”

  “What you are really saying, is that I am neglecting my estate and the people who live on it!”

  “You have not exactly neglected them, my Lord, but because they feel isolated a great number have moved away. People do like living in villages, but it must be a comfortable and prosperous village with at least two shops so that they don’t have to go long distances for everything they need.

  “At Flagford and Little Corner there are a number of empty cottages becoming dilapidated and I know that several shops in both of them are thinking of closing down, which means that more inhabitants will leave.”

  The Marquis was silent and then he blurted out,

  “I had no idea of any of this.”

  “Why should you bother about our local troubles here when you are having a good time in London?” Rosetta asked. “Everything would undoubtedly change if we had a Race Meeting here perhaps three or four times a year.”

  There was silence and then Henry broke in,

  “Of course, it would be wonderful for our horses, and we could have super high jumps, whilst at present we have to make do with hedges and a few old hurdles.

  The Marquis was staring at the plan.

  “Have you any idea what this will cost?” he asked.

  “It would depend on whether we build as much as possible ourselves with local labour or call in an expensive outside Company,” replied Gordon.

  He was looking rather pale and Rosetta knew that he was thinking their prospects were hopeless.

  “It would be best,” the Marquis said slowly, “if we employed local people where possible. They would take more interest in it as they would feel part of it.”

  “That is right! Of course it’s right!” Rosetta cried before anyone else could speak. “It’s what they would all love to do and it would give them new interests, new ideas and, above all, hope.”

  “Hope?” the Marquis questioned.

  “Hope that the future will be better than it seems at present. It’s what everyone wants in their hearts, but so often they are disappointed.”

  As she was speaking, their eyes met.

  The Marquis thought that she was the most unusual young woman he had ever met.

  He had never imagined anyone so beautiful could talk so seriously and with so much commonsense and he was fully aware that what she was saying was true.

  He felt he should have known all this, but he had thought such matters were not particularly his business and had refused to let them trouble him.

  And now, it seemed incredible, she was reading his thoughts.

  Then Rosetta declared,

  “Every young man is entitled to sow his wild oats, but there is a time when he recognises his responsibilities and that people whom he thought of no importance look to him for guidance and a lead.”

  “You think,” the Marquis answered slowly, “that is what they are asking of me?”

  “Yes, it is, my Lord. You live in that wonderful Castle. But the people to whom you belong and who have fought and died for your ancestors are now seeking your help. You can give them it in a very special way and if you do, they will be eternally grateful.”

  Once again the Marquis was looking at her.

  He was thinking it could not be possible for anyone so young and so beautiful to be talking to him in such a manner.

  Then he could see in her eyes how much it mattered to her and she was undoubtedly thinking not of herself, as any other woman would be, but of him and his people.

  He turned to the plan.

  “If I agree to this,” he said, “how soon could you start and how long would it take?”

  Gordon, who had been looking despondent, seemed to suddenly come to life.

  “Henry and I have worked out rough answers to all those questions and I have written them down in case you wanted to take them away and consider them.”

  He picked up a sheet of paper from his writing desk and handed it to the Marquis, who took a brief glance at it.

  “I suppose you and your brother are prepared to be in charge all the time the Racecourse is being built. I am sure I will be able to find friends who would contribute to the more elaborate part of the course and I know someone who specialises in building the most comfortable stands.”

  Gordon drew a deep breath.

  “Are you really saying you will help us in this?”

  The Marquis looked towards Rosetta.

  “After what your sister has just said to me, I find it difficult to say ‘no’.”

  Rosetta clasped her hands together.

  “Thank you, thank you, my Lord. This is the most wonderful news. I know that everyone will feel you are following in the steps of the greatest and most popular of your ancestors. You will give the local people, who are all our people, something to think about, to plan for and to give them employment.”

  “Very well,” the Marquis sighed, “you go ahead. I imagine that, if you move quickly, we ought to be able to have our first Race Meeting early next year.”

  Gordon gave an exclamation of delight.

  “Do you really mean that you will do it, my Lord? We have to be frank and say that Henry and I can, at the moment, only offer you the land and ourselves.”

  “You must supervise the whole of it and make sure it is the most outstanding in the country. If you do that, I am prepared to pay all the costs and we will then share the profits when we make any.”

  Rosetta spoke first.

  “That is very kind and generous of you,” she said. “I know that when our people hear of it they will thank you from the bottom of their hearts.”

  “I rather doubt that. There will certainly be a great number of critics,” the Marquis replied rather cynically.

  Rosetta shook her head.

  “You have no idea how much the Millbrooks are revered. T
he locals are only disappointed that you spend so little time here. If they know you are really caring about us who live here and bringing much needed prosperity to the County, I am quite certain they will canonize you!”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “Now you are really frightening me! I have no wish to be a Saint and I enjoy life as I find it.”

  As he spoke, he knew that this was not true, as he had been disappointed in what he had found in London.

  This was a new idea, a new project, on his own land and near his own house.

  Unless he had arranged a party he had often found The Castle exceedingly boring, but now he might find a happiness and interest he had failed to discover in London.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, Rosetta said very quietly,

  “You will never regret the decision you have made, my Lord. I promise you greater happiness than anything you have ever known before.”

  The Marquis stared at her.

  What she had just said implied that she had been reading his mind.

  He could not believe it.

  Then he was aware that she had been speaking in a very low voice and her brothers, who were concentrating on the plan, would not have heard what she said to him.

  For a moment they just looked at each other and then the Marquis murmured,

  “What part will you play in this, apart from making me do exactly what you want me to do?”

  “You have done the right thing, my Lord.”

  She did not answer his question, but turned away towards the side table where Barnes had left another bottle of champagne on ice.

  “I think,” she announced, “we should all drink to the Racecourse that has been born here tonight and which we must make one of the best courses in England.”

  “Indeed we must,” Henry agreed excitedly. “But I am finding it hard to believe it will really happen. Oh, my Lord, you will be the most popular Millbrook who has ever lived at The Castle.”

  Because Henry was so thrilled the Marquis laughed and Gordon handed him a glass of champagne.

  Having poured one out for Rosetta and Henry, he replenished his own.

  “I want you,” he proposed, “to drink a toast to the Millbrook and Waincliffe Racecourse. I suggest it is called ‘Millcliffe’, which would unite our two names in the same way as we are the united proprietors of the course.”

  Just for a moment, the Marquis paused as if he was considering it.

  Then raising his glass, he added,

  “I will drink to that. I will drink to the Millcliffe Racecourse, and to the beautiful lady who will watch over it as its Guardian Angel sent down from Heaven!”

  He was looking at Rosetta as he spoke.

  Henry and Gordon lifted their glasses repeating,

  “To the Millcliffe Racecourse.”

  Then as they were downing the champagne, Rosetta moved swiftly out of the room and disappeared.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rosetta woke up with a start and then she realised it was still very early.

  It was not yet six o’clock.

  For a moment she just lay in bed.

  She could see, as the wardrobe door was open, the gown she had worn last night.

  They had gone up to change for dinner at half past seven although the Marquis had not arrived and at the back of their minds was the fear that he would not turn up at all.

  And that would be the end of the Racecourse!

  To cheer herself up, Rosetta had then chosen one of Dolina’s prettiest gowns. It was pale pink and ornamented with diamante and flowers and it gave her the feeling when she put it on that she was the Fairy Queen of the garden.

  When the Marquis did arrive, she had no idea that was exactly how she looked to him. He was astonished to see anyone so lovely or so well dressed in the country.

  Now it swept over Rosetta like a wave of the sea that everything was even better than they had hoped. The Marquis would cooperate with them and actually finance the construction of the Racecourse.

  ‘We have won! We have won!’ she told herself.

  She felt as if even the sunshine was brighter as it came streaming through the sides of the curtains.

  Last night when they had gone up to bed, Gordon had escorted the Marquis to his room and then he came to Rosetta’s to say goodnight.

  She was sitting at the dressing table taking off her jewellery.

  “I cannot begin to thank you,” he said. “What can I give you as a present for being so brilliant?”

  “I can answer that quite easily,” replied Rosetta. “I would love a ride on Starlight.”

  “I might have known that would be your answer and he is yours for tomorrow if you really think you can control him.”

  “I will be very disappointed if I fail!”

  He thanked her again and she climbed into her bed feeling that the angels had helped them and everything was even more wonderful than she had hoped it would be.

  As it was so early, Rosetta thought that she would take Gordon at his word and ride Starlight now.

  There was always a chance that the situation might change or Dolina might come home and then she would have to return to her own home very quickly.

  ‘It’s now or never,’ she told herself and jumped out of bed.

  As she saw it was going to be a hot day, she put on her riding skirt and a white blouse, but not her riding jacket and she guessed that if Starlight was obstreperous, the less she wore the easier it would be to control him.

  She dressed very quickly and opened her bedroom door to find everything in the house was quiet.

  There was no sign of any servants.

  In the past when there were a great number of them, she was sure that the housemaids and the scullions would be on duty at five-thirty, but now the staff were old.

  Rosetta remembered that before they went upstairs, Gordon had said that breakfast would be at nine o’clock.

  She slipped out by the back door and onto the path that led her directly to the stables.

  As she expected, there was no sign yet of any of the grooms and even most of the horses were still lying down.

  It was not difficult to find Starlight.

  She wanted to view and pat the Marquis’s horses, which had broken the record yesterday, but she thought the sooner she rode off on Starlight the less likely it was for anyone to stop her from doing so.

  He was quiet while she saddled and bridled him and then leading him out of the stable into the yard she climbed onto the mounting block.

  She seated herself in the saddle and she had been talking to Starlight all the time.

  Her father had taught her years ago when she was a child that one should always talk to a horse, especially a new one as it made it familiar with its rider before he or she was actually in the saddle.

  “You are a very beautiful and clever boy,” Rosetta was saying. “I want to ride you because I think you are without any exception the loveliest horse I have ever seen.”

  She was sure that Starlight understood that she was praising him.

  She patted him and he set off at quite a reasonable pace instead, as she had expected, of trying to go too fast.

  They went out of the back of the stable and into the paddock and then she let him break into a gallop and she thought it was the most exciting thing she had done for a long time.

  She rode him out of the paddock towards the land Gordon and Henry had planned for their Racecourse.

  But she did not want to spoil the excitement of riding over it with the Marquis later, so she turned towards Monkswood, her favourite place on the whole estate.

  As it happened, Monkswood had always been of some significance as half of it was on the Marquis’s estate and half on Lord Waincliffe’s.

  Nearly a hundred years ago there had been a tussle between the two owners as to who owned Monkswood and strangely enough the event was chronicled in the archives of both families.

  It was of special interest locally because a monk had left h
is Monastery and then retired to the wood and had built himself a small Chapel.

  There he had meditated all alone talking only to the birds and rabbits and other wild animals. He not only fed them, but offered them the protection of his Chapel.

  Whether or not they did really hide in the Chapel when the owners of Monkswood were shooting, Rosetta was never sure, but she liked to think of them all clustering inside it.

  The Chapel was now very dilapidated, but she felt it still had an atmosphere of sanctity about it.

  She thought now as she rode through the wood that she should say a prayer of gratitude to God for making the Marquis agree to the building of the Racecourse, and it was appropriate it should be here in the wood that had been part of the two estates for centuries.

  She did not want Starlight to be too frisky while they were inside the wood, so she galloped him on their way to it and took him over several very high jumps that he cleared magnificently.

  He was, she told him, the most marvellous horse she had ever ridden.

  She had no idea that the Marquis was watching her take the jumps with sheer astonishment.

  He too had woken early.

  He had lain in bed thinking that he had certainly let himself in for a project he had never even thought about.

  He was wondering if in some subtle way he could persuade Gordon Waincliffe it was not really wanted.

  Then, almost as if she was standing beside him, he could hear the soft clear voice of Dolina.

  She was telling him that it was his duty as well as his responsibility and that he must do his best to help his own people.

  She had certainly managed to convince him.

  He thought now with a sigh it meant he would have to spend a lot more time in the country, far more than he had done in the last few years.

  Then he saw the sun coming through the window and heard a bird singing outside.

  He felt a sudden urge to look at the place chosen for the Racecourse and if there were to be snags, he must find them now and then if he decided the whole scheme was impossible, he must have very good reasons for saying so.

  So without waiting for his valet, he pulled on his riding breeches and a shirt.

  When he was dressed, he went downstairs and just as Rosetta had found, there was no one around.