A Battle of Brains (13 page)

When ‘The Lancers' finished, she realised with a sense of relief that her stepfather was ready to go home.

Driving back in the carriage she questioned him,

“What were you talking about so earnestly to those gentlemen while we were dancing?”

Her Stepfather laughed.

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I suppose it was business.”

“But of course,” he answered.  “As you know it is the one subject I am really knowledgeable about.”

“And on many other things too, including pictures.  So what was it tonight?”

“Need you ask, Yolanda?  A report from America regarding the automatic air brake is making people who are concerned with or who have invested in our railways aware that they are rapidly becoming out of date.”

By the time he finished speaking, they were back home, so Yolanda did not say any more.

She kissed him goodnight and walked up to bed.

She was wondering if once again he would win and somehow grasp the automatic air brake invention into his clutches before anyone else could.

In which case Lord Milborne would perhaps not be able to afford to buy any more pictures!

If that was to be the case, she felt it was rather sad, as she sensed how much they meant to him.

‘At least I have warned him,' she thought.  ‘Surely he is sensible enough to realise it is a question of getting there first?'

That, she knew, was what her stepfather always did.  He worked as quickly as his brain – which was very quick indeed.

She gave a little sigh and for some strange reason that she could not quite fathom she really wanted Lord Milborne to win the air brake race with her stepfather.

She somehow thought that he was so like her father – he would have thought it so unfair and ungentlemanly to push people out of the way.

Especially to grab the air brake before anyone else had a chance.

‘I have really done my best, I cannot do any more,' Yolanda decided a little ruefully before she fell asleep.

*

The next day followed the same routine –

A luncheon party, an afternoon reception, a dinner party and a dance.  It seemed to Yolanda a repetition of what had happened a dozen times already.

Then she felt a bit ashamed of herself for not being more enthusiastic.

‘What I really want now more than anything,' she decided, ‘is to return to the country.'

She had ridden Chestnut practically every morning in Rotten Row, but it was not the same as riding over the fields or jumping in the paddock.

When Friday morning finally came, she felt as excited as a child leaving school –
they were going back to the country
.

To her delight her stepfather was driving a team of four well-matched black horses.  

She knew that the horses had been bought recently at Tattersall's, the renowned auctioneer in Knightsbridge, so were likely to be exceedingly fast.

Seeing him control the huge, proud-looking horses, she realised that her stepfather was a good driver, as well as a very good rider, both of which rather surprised her.

After all, when he was a young man, his family had not been able to afford horses, whilst her father had ridden, as he had often boasted, since he could crawl.

“You drive very well, Step-papa,” she blurted out.

“I hear surprise in your voice,” he replied, “which I don't think is very complimentary.”

“I am sorry if I sounded rude,” answered Yolanda, “but actually I was wondering how you came to ride so well and learnt to drive as well as any of your coachmen?”

“Thank you, Yolanda – now that
is
a compliment!   And as you are so curious, I will tell you about it.  As soon as I could afford it, I had myself taught by the very best drivers and riders.  I then devoted many hours to learning and practised as often as I could. ”

“That was indeed clever of you!”

“I have told you before that if you want something you have to fight for it.  And I had no intention of being heavy in the saddle or having clumsy fingers with the reins.  It was another lesson and one which has certainly paid off.”

“Of course it did and I am enjoying driving with you more than I can say.”

“I feel you are dying to get back to the country.”

“Of course I am!  It will be lovely to be home, to see the garden and find out what is new in the stables.”

Her stepfather smiled at her.

“We must not forget that Lord Milborne is coming to view my pictures.  He is arriving this afternoon before dinner, but I suggest we show him nothing until tomorrow.”

“He must not interfere with our riding.  I suppose he will want to ride too?”

“I shall be very surprised if he does not. Incidentally if you want an outstanding rider, then
he
is one.”

“Oh, is he?” Yolanda said, the surprise apparent on her face.  “I thought he was more of a City gentleman?”

“On the contrary,” her stepfather remarked, “he has won quite a number of races riding his own horses and he is Master of his own pack of foxhounds.”

Yolanda raised her eyebrows, both surprised and impressed.  Lord Milborne had certainly seemed a Londoner when she had been talking to him in his house in Grosvenor Square.

Now it seemed rather strange that he should be so countrified.

“I believe that his foxhounds are outstanding,” her stepfather was saying.  “And I couldn't help wondering if I should have a pack of my own.”

“That would be certainly something new!”

“We will have to think about it.  There is plenty of time before the autumn.”

They drove on and by now there were only a few houses and the undulating land was broken by clumps of trees with their leaves shining in the sunshine.

They were very near to her stepfather's house when Yolanda enquired,

“By the way, Step-papa, have you invited anyone else to dine tomorrow night, or are we having Lord Milborne all to ourselves for two dinners?”

“Of course some other people are coming to dinner on Saturday night and I thought very hard about who to ask.  I got the feeling that you were a little bored with dancing, after all the excitement of the parties in London, so I chose people who I thought could offer us a little intelligent conversation.”

“It is something I would much prefer,” she smiled happily.

“I thought too that as Alan Milborne is interested in the opera, we might have some music.”

“A band?  I thought you just said we were
not
going to dance?”

“No, no – I have asked a man who is an extremely good pianist to play for us after dinner.  We can talk at the same time so that it does not become an isolated entertainment.  I thought perhaps you would play for us too.”

Yolanda's eyes widened.

“I have read your school reports and your music teacher said that you were an excellent pupil.  Besides passing a series of examinations in music, you also sang in the school choir?”

“Are you expecting me to sing tomorrow night?”

“Why not, Yolanda?  I am contributing my part to the evening and I think you should contribute too.”

“I am horrified at the idea.  Also, I have not had an opportunity to practice or think of something to sing.”

“Sing them something really delightful and not too heavy,” he advised.  “When people have had a lot to eat and drink, they want to feel glamorous or even romantic.”

“I just hope that is really what your guests would like, otherwise they might feel a little uncomfortable.”

“Trust me, Yolanda, they are mostly married couples.  I am told that Alan Milborne is pursued by all the beautiful women in Mayfair, so he will not be looking for them in the depths of the country.”

It suddenly struck Yolanda for the first time that Lord Milborne was indeed an extremely good-looking man who could not be much older than twenty-seven.

Of course all the ambitious mothers would pursue him with their
debutante
daughters.  She had seen them in action at every party she had attended.

They sat in small clusters, scrutinising all the young gentlemen and contriving to make their daughters dance with someone who had a title – or else with someone who was very rich.

Yolanda realised that up until then she had been thinking of Lord Milborne in the same way as she thought of his father.

She had not really thought of him as an attractive young man at all.

Now she knew that she had been very silly.

Of course, there was no reason to think that he was particularly interested in machinery, the railways or for that matter automatic air brakes.

It had really been quite unnecessary for her to go to Grosvenor Square.

When she had realised that the Lord Milborne she knew was not there, she should have gone away at once.

The new Lord Milborne had been most charming and polite to her, but he had certainly not said that he was hurrying off to America to bid for the air brake.

She could appreciate that pictures were more interesting to him, particularly if they were by Stubbs and depicted horses that he could ride better than anyone.

‘I have just made rather a fool of myself,' Yolanda considered.

However, it did not matter at all as Lord Milborne was never likely to be interested in her.

Granted he had paid her a compliment, but that was just good manners – it was the sort of thing any young man might say to a pretty young woman.

All the same Yolanda was still thinking about him when she walked slowly upstairs to dress for dinner.

There was as yet no sign of his arrival.

‘Perhaps he has received a better invitation,' she speculated.

Then she told herself she rather wanted to see him again.  He was certainly a great deal more interesting than the majority of gentlemen she had met in London.

As she glanced at herself in the mirror, she knew she was looking very attractive.

In fact it would not be too conceited to say –
lovely
.

“I wonder if I ought to wear some of my Mama's jewels with this gown?” she asked Emily.

“I thinks it looks nice just as it is, my Lady,” Emily replied.  “And you don't want to go shouting about having jewellery at this moment, it be dangerous.”

Yolanda looked at her in surprise.

“What do you mean by that?”

“They were telling me as soon as I arrived, there's been terrible trouble down here.  Several houses have been broken into and one elderly lady, I don't know her name, got stopped on the road by three men with pistols. They took her pearls off her neck, her earrings and every penny her had in her handbag.”

“I have never heard anything so awful!” Yolanda exclaimed.  “Has the Master been told?”

“I don't rightly know, my Lady, but they be talking about it in the kitchen and they says it be a gang of roughs.  Nasty it sounds to me.”

“And to me,” agreed Yolanda.

She did not say anything aloud, but was hoping that her stepfather's pictures were safe.

It seemed to her more than likely.

Surely ruffians, who were collecting jewellery and holding up women on a quiet country road, would not be interested in pictures by Great Masters?

All the same the two Stubbs her stepfather had just purchased were certainly valuable, even though he was a comparatively modern artist.

Other artists in his large collection like Holbein and Raphael grew increasingly more valuable year by year.

‘I must warn Step-papa to be very careful,' Yolanda decided as she walked down the stairs.

Then she saw four sturdy young footmen, all over six feet tall, standing in the hall and remembered that there were two night watchmen always on guard when they went to bed.  Reassured, she pushed the possibility of danger to the back of her mind.

As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she was aware of someone coming down behind her.

She looked back and saw it was Lord Milborne.

He must have arrived just after she had gone up to dress.

And now he was changed and looking smart and extremely handsome in his white tie and tails.

She waited until he joined her at the bottom of the stairs.

“You were so late in arriving, my Lord, I was afraid you might not be coming.”

“How could I stay away when you have so much to show me?” he asked.

“I hear, as well as the paintings, you are interested in the stables.”

“There is one horse in particular that I want to see,” Lord Milborne responded.  “It is one that your stepfather outbid me for at Tattersall's a few weeks ago.  I was very angry with my Head Groom for allowing him to do so!”

Yolanda laughed.

“I know which one it is,” Yolanda informed him.

“Then please arrange that I can ride him tomorrow.  If nothing else it will teach me a lesson that one must never be pipped at the post!”

Yolanda laughed again.

“I am so very sorry for you, my Lord, but we have Champion.  He is a wonderful horse and I enjoy riding him myself.”

“In which case, I suppose I shall have to pretend that I no longer mind losing him.”

“You can then tell me what you really feel after you have ridden him,” replied Yolanda. “I have a feeling that having done so, you will just want to ride away on him and disappear, so we can never find you or Champion again!”

“That is certainly an idea – and a very good one at that!”

They were both chuckling as they entered the drawing room.

The next morning Yolanda awoke and thought at once how exciting it would be to ride with Lord Milborne.

She had heard her stepfather giving the orders that the horses were to be brought round to the front of the house as soon as they had finished breakfast.

She dressed hurriedly without worrying about her appearance – she merely took a quick look to see if her hair was tidy before speeding downstairs.