While Harry was so engaged Jack spied a small gap, and with a wave towards Harry steered his pair through it. As Charlotte looked back she saw the pig, having escaped once more, making for the churchyard, with the parson hanging onto its tail. She hoped it kept its freedom, or had delayed being slaughtered for at least a little time.
Harry had, by now, extricated himself and followed Jack so closely Charlotte was convinced she could feel the breath of his pair on her neck. And just as they were in sight of the winning-post he crept past, and there was nothing Jack could do, his pair were finished, and Harry won by a length.
“That was a famous race!” Charlotte exclaimed as they were in the inn partaking of a substantial nuncheon. “Yet had any of those accidents not happened, the result could have been different, so how do you know which pair is superior? Ought you not to race them over a course with no other vehicles, and—and pigs and things?”
“No need,” Jack replied generously. “I know now my cattle can’t really match Harry’s greys. He had far more delays than I did, and still won! Well, Harry, I’ll meet you at White’s this evening, and stand you dinner!”
When the horses had been baited and rested they drove back to London at a sedate pace, and while Jack, saying he would see Harry later, escorted Amanda home Harry and Charlotte had to face an accusing James demanding to know who won, and why he could not have been the one to accompany Harry instead of a stranger like Amanda Gregory. He had been hoping right until the last minute that Harry would take him.
Harry had to sit down and between them he and Charlotte told James and the others all about the race. Even Lady Norville unbent sufficiently to comment that although she disapproved of such doings, and shuddered to think of the many times when Harry had put himself and others in danger, it seemed he was quite a capable whip.
“Capable!” Charlotte breathed disbelievingly, but said no more as Claude then entered the room and with a polite show of interest asked to be told who had won the race.
Mindful of his father’s request, Harry smiled at him.
“I did, Cousin, but I am sure your mother has no wish to hear all about it again, so why do you not join us this evening to celebrate?”
* * * *
Harry devoted his energies initially to entertaining his friends, and ensuring Claude was made to feel welcome among a group of young men who had not previously exerted themselves to include him in their circle. One or two of them looked at Harry in some surprise when he appeared together with Claude, but he was the hero of the occasion, and had the right to invite his own guests, so they thought little more about it.
Having plied Claude with an excellent dinner and some of the best wines the cellar could produce, he waited for the inevitable mellowing. His opportunity to mention the hunting-box came when they had left the table and gone into the gaming-rooms. The club was full this evening, and for a while Claude stood watching the players at a faro table, and Harry moved to stand beside him. He commented briefly on the play, and then, as Claude responded with a slight nod, broached the subject uppermost in his thoughts.
“I was surprised to hear you mean to dispose of the hunting-lodge,” he said abruptly. “I’ve seen you ride, and you’re an excellent horseman. I’ve had thought you might have enjoyed hunting. It’s near some of the best country.”
Claude glanced at him, a supercilious smile on his lips.
“I won’t thank you for your praises, since they may be calculated. Did your anxious papa set you on to talk me round?”
Harry pursed his lips at the tone, but with an effort controlled his temper and replied mildly.
“Is it surprising? Though I would rather say he thought I might be able to explain better than he the consequences of selling off part of your inheritance. It’s the start of ruin in most cases.”
“Is that what you have done? I had not thought it! I am the best judge of my needs, my dear Harry, and really, you may be satisfied I have ample for myself and my mother from the main estate. And I do not care for riding all day after some stupid animal that is better caught in a trap. I suppose your father also told you why I mean to sell the property?”
“I understand it is to provide for your French relations.”
“And do you object?”
“What right have I to object?” Harry asked curtly. “I do think you’d be wiser to provide them with an income instead.”
“So my dear uncle maintains. I can see he has primed you well, coz! Since you care so much, why do you not buy the hunting-box from me? As for sending money regularly to France, think only of the difficulties once war resumes. No money from England would be allowed to get to France.”
“I should think not, indeed. So you are of the opinion the war will be resumed?”
Claude shrugged. “It is inevitable. Nothing has been conclusively finished, war will break out again sooner or later.”
“How can you be sure this money will not fall into the wrong hands and be used against us?”
“Oh, do not fear, Harry. I will make very sure it goes exactly where I intend it to go. Tell your father from me I will do as I think fit, and he has no right to attempt to stop me.”
“No right!” Harry exclaimed angrily. “You say he has no right when but for his efforts your inheritance would have been worth far less than it is! And, come to that, he is your heir so long as you are without a son, and there is always a moral right for an heir to be consulted when major decisions are taken.”
“But not in law. Not where unentailed land is involved. As a matter of fact I have been pleasantly surprised to find so much of the land is not entailed. I have a greater freedom of action than I had at first supposed. Are you thinking you might inherit, Harry? I advise caution, for I mean to marry and have several sons, as soon as I have selected a suitable bride.”
He turned abruptly away, and strode across the room to where Richard’s father, Mr Davies, had just entered with a couple of friends. Harry watched as Claude greeted Mr Davies and drew him aside.
“I was not aware he had become acquainted with your father?” he said suddenly to Richard, and the latter nodded.
“He met us in Bond Street, and I had to introduce him. He seemed devilish anxious to talk about the political situation, and how long it was thought Addington would last, and whether the King was completely recovered from his illness last year. I can tell you, my father was hard put to it to get free of him. He don’t relish talking about state matters to anyone outside the family, especially in a public street where anyone might overhear what he says.”
“Well, he seems to have evaded him this time,” Harry said, seeing the older man nod briefly to Claude and pass through to an inner room.
Harry was simmering with impotent rage against his cousin, not only for the cavalier way he had replied to him, but at the hints he might be selling more of the property. He was honest enough about his own feelings to know he did care on his own behalf about what happened to the land, since he had for so long regarded it as a distinct probability it would one day be his. However, Claude’s jibes did nothing to mitigate his anger, and he was relieved to see his cousin, having found a place at the faro table, appeared to have no intention of rejoining him. Thrusting down his anger, he tried to recapture the satisfaction he had felt at winning the race, and enjoy this celebration.
For some hours he succeeded in doing this, but when the party decided it was time to repair to Harry’s rooms, he thought about his cousin again, and reluctantly accepted Claude must be invited to join them, since he had himself included him in the party. He went in search of him, and found him, a trifle flushed and preoccupied, still at the faro table.
“We are going to my rooms, Claude. Will you come too?” he asked.
“What, leave when I am winning?” Claude asked with a laugh, and glanced briefly up at Harry. “No, go to your party, coz. I prefer to remain here. I like deep play, not penny stakes amongst friends.”
“That’s the spirit,” a man at the far side of Claude said encouragingly. “You’ll never win a fortune at silver loo!”
Harry glanced at him, the dislike revealed plainly in his eyes.
“You don’t lose one either, Sir David!” he snapped, and turned away to rejoin his friends.
“Was Claude with David Clarkson?” Jack asked in an undertone as they left the club.
“It appeared so. Certainly he was receiving every encouragement from him,” Harry returned. “Jack, if he gets into the clutches of Sir David Clarkson, he’ll lose all the money from the sale of the hunting-box before he even has time to send it to France!”
“Is he a gambler, do you think?”
“From seeing him tonight, I fear so. He’d been at the table without a break, and the stakes are high, and he was exhilarated far more than by a normal excitement, I’d swear.”
Chapter 8
Gloomily he went with his friends, but was hard put to it to regain any pleasure in the evening. Claude’s words about doing as he wished with the bulk of the estate could not be forgotten, and he was up unusually early on the following morning and seeking his father in Grosvenor Square.
Mr Norville had gone out, however, and Harry found only Charlotte at home, waiting to ride out with some friends.
“You appear worried,” she told him bluntly, and he nodded, telling her of his fears.
“Surely he could not gamble it all away!” she exclaimed, aghast. “Indeed, I think it true he does wish to provide for his French relatives, and I suppose it is only just of him, for they did care for him.”
“Whatever he intends, there is precious little apart from Rowanlea and a few of the farms entailed. If he falls into the hands of—of the sort of men who prey on young men of fortune, he will soon be selling more than the hunting-box!”
She stared at him in dismay, biting her lip.
“Then what can we do?”
“There’s nought to be done, since he will not listen to any advice, even from Glossop.”
The riding party then arrived, including Elizabeth, Amanda Gregory, and Jack. Rather to Charlotte’s surprise Claude was with them, and Elizabeth smilingly announced he had called on her, hoping to induce her to ride with him, and been persuaded to join the party she was engaged with. Seeing him, Harry decided to join them, and contrived to ride alongside Elizabeth as they went towards the Park. He was so full of his grievances against Claude that when Elizabeth chided him on his abstraction he told her some of his fears.
“If he goes on like this he’ll ruin the estate!” he said angrily.
“But it is his to sell, is it not?” Elizabeth said gently. “Harry, you must not show your jealousy so openly. I can understand why he wishes to sell the hunting-box, for I am not a devotee of hunting myself, and I consider it romantic and gallant that he wants to repay those who took him in when he was destitute.”
“He may have the legal right to sell,” Harry rejoined impatiently, “but after our family has built up the estate it is wicked to sell it off—especially to send large sums to France where they might easily fall into the hands of Bonaparte and be used against us. He can be noble and self-sacrificing by sending some of his income, but it’s my belief he hasn’t been so poverty-stricken as he’d have us think, judging by his clothes and his mother’s jewels, and I doubt they need his help. He’s certainly in no haste to send the money he’s already laid hands on, for he’s intent on gambling that away as fast as he can!”
“You refuse to believe any good of him. Do stop behaving so childishly, Harry, and showing your jealousy to the world.”
“Childish? Jealous?” he asked, and gave a sudden, sharp laugh. “Aye, perhaps I have been, but no longer, Elizabeth. These last few days have taught me a great deal.”
He contrived to change his position as soon as possible to ride beside Amanda, who sat a rakish-looking mare, and pointedly devoted his attention to her, reliving the highlights of the race, while Elizabeth rode beside Claude, dimpling at him, and using her eyes expressively. When James, accompanied by Wolf, appeared from one of the side paths, Harry did not notice him until he waved to attract their attention, and Charlotte waved back.
The horses were only trotting, and James had ample time to run across to them, which he proceeded to do. Wolf, scenting a game, went bounding ahead, ignoring James’ commands to come to heel, and as he came up to the horses barked in greeting.
Elizabeth looked round in alarm, and tensed suddenly as she saw the great white dog frisking up to them. Amanda’s mare, immediately behind, reared skittishly, and its sudden movement, added to the terror communicated from Elizabeth to her horse, caused the latter to bolt, with Elizabeth clinging frantically to the pommel, across the Park.
Harry was after her seconds later, and seeing Amanda was well able to bring her own horse under control, Jack spurred after him, Claude following at a slower pace while Wolf, the cause of the trouble, eluded James and trailed gleefully in pursuit.
All might have ended well had not a rabbit started up almost underneath the fleeing horse, and causing it to swerve so that Elizabeth was flung to the ground. Moments later Harry had leaped down beside her, and breathed a sigh of relief when she looked up at him and attempted to smile.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he slipped his arm beneath her shoulders.
“I should not attempt to move until you are certain no bones are broken, Miss Maine,” Claude said, and Elizabeth smiled at him.
“I am only shaken, and no doubt bruised, but otherwise have suffered no hurt,” she managed to say. “I’ve had many a tumble before, you know, I’m not such an accomplished rider as Charlotte or Amanda,” she added, then, stretching a hand out to Claude, “Pray help me up. Where is the horse?”
Harry surveyed them sardonically as Claude clasped her hands and tenderly helped her to rise, then looked round.
“Jack has captured it. However, you must not attempt to ride home. I think I see help at hand.”
He gestured to the carriage road a little distance away, and they saw a landaulet containing two ladies had stopped, and a footman was running across the turf towards them.