Authors: A London Season
Deep inside him, David's heart began to thud. “You aren't going to marry this Wrexham fellow?” he asked carefully.
"Of course not.” She made a small gesture of arrogance and impatience. “What has he to do with me?"
There was a brief silence. “Turn around, Jane,” he said very quietly.
Slowly she obeyed him, her eyes still dark with anger and confusion and pain. She raised them and found his; they were full of comfort and of love. It was suddenly as though the invisible cord that had always abound them was contracting and pulling them closer. “I love you. I have always loved you. Will you marry me?” he said.
The relief she felt was shattering in its intensity. She flung herself into his arms, her own clasped tightly about his neck. “I love
you,"
she said fiercely. “No one else. Only you."
He held her close, his cheek against her hair. The slim curves of her body were pressed against him. “Jane,” he said. A muscle jumped in the corner of his mouth. “Jane,” he said again, more urgently.
She loosened her strangle hold on his neck and raised her head to look at him. Slowly, as though pulled by a force he could not withstand, he bent his head toward hers. His kiss was gentle, his lips cool and firm against hers. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, her hands slipping around him to rest against his back. She could feel the strong muscles under her palms. David's mouth became harder, more demanding. Her own lips opened willingly and her body arched against him, melting into his limbs and bones. Julian Wrexham's kiss had been an invasion; something to tolerate for the sake of not raising suspicions. David's kiss roused sensations she had not known existed. Her surroundings disappeared. The only thing left in the world was David and what he was making her feel.
Suddenly, two hard hands grasped her shoulders and put her away from him. Surprised, she opened her eyes and stared up at him. He was breathing as though he had been running and his eyes were slits of molten gold. “God, Jane,” he said, his voice rougher than she had ever heard it. “Don't tempt me like this. It isn't fair."
His hands bit into the soft flesh of her upper arms, but she made no complaint. For the first time Jane understood what marriage with David would mean. Her eyes were dark and heavy; she looked like one who is suddenly wakened. They stared at each other for a long minute and passion beat in the air between them. Then Jane whispered, “What are we going to do? Uncle Edward will never let me marry you."
Her voice broke the spell that seemed to hold them. He dropped his hands from her arms and stepped back. “I know,” he said in a more normal voice. “We shall have to elope."
"I thought of that. But we are both under age. Who would marry us?"
He smiled at her candid “I thought of that.” She looked so beautiful that he took another step back before saying, “We'll have to go to Scotland, Jane. Minors can be legally married there."
She looked at him in admiration, “I didn't know that. Scotland. All right. When?"
He laughed at that, for sheer joy. “Aren't you even worried about how we are going to live?"
"No,” she answered, perfectly soberly. “I don't care where or how we live. I only care that I'm with you."
David's mouth looked suddenly very tender. “I know,” he said gently. “If I didn't believe that I wouldn't do what I'm going to do. You will sacrifice wealth, luxury, and position if you marry me, Jane."
"I don't care,” she said.
"I know,” he said again. His voice became more businesslike. “Two things may happen. Lord Rayleigh may fire me and throw the both of us out of Heathfield. If he does that, I am pretty sure of being able to find another job as Head Trainer. We can sell the cottage and buy another one, if we have to. On the other hand, he may allow me to stay. I hope he does. He pays me a good salary and I have some money saved. We should be able to make it, Jane."
Her extraordinary light eyes were blazing with excitement. “David, I have money. Or I will have when I'm twenty-one."
He looked startled. “You will? How much?"
"Eighty thousand pounds."
"What!"
"Yes. My father and mother left it to me."
"I didn't know that.” He sounded subdued.
"I didn't either until this year. Don't you see? We can buy our own stud, raise our own horses. We just have to wait four more years."
"Eighty thousand pounds,” he said.
She looked at him narrowly. “David Chance, if you make a fuss about spending my money, I'll never speak to you again."
He laughed unwillingly. “But don't you see, Jane. People will think I'm a fortune hunter."
"Nobody who matters will think that, and you will just have to put up with it if they do. It doesn't make any sense to work for someone else if you can work for yourself.” She looked again at his unhappy face. “Oh, for heaven's sake, David, I'll give it all to charity if it bothers you that much."
He smiled at her wryly. “Would you?"
"Of course I would,” she answered instantly.
He laughed shakenly and reached for her once again. He held her tightly for a moment, his mouth buried in the shining smoothness of her hair. Then he said, “If you are willing to be poor for me, I suppose I must be willing to be rich for you.” Resolutely he put her away from him. “It will take a few weeks to arrange everything. I want to leave the stable in order."
Jane saw nothing odd in being asked to postpone her elopement for the convenience of a few horses. “Of course,” she agreed. “Do you want me to do anything?"
"No. Just try not to act suspiciously. I think Lord Rayleigh is uneasy about us already."
She smiled complacently. “I have been very clever, David,” she assured him. “I purposely did not refuse Mr. Wrexham's proposal and I have been very nice to him since then. I'm sure Uncle Edward and Anne are confident they will soon be announcing our engagement. I ought to go on the stage, I've been so convincing,” said Jane with misplaced self-congratulations.
David's amber eyes glowed with amusement, but he did not question her further. They decided to see each other as infrequently as possible in the company of others. Jane promised to meet him at his cottage before dinner each day, a time when she could conveniently disappear for an hour or so. They would have to be satisfied with that for a few more weeks at least.
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
—William Shakespeare
Jane took Julian Wrexham to the stables on the afternoon of their first day back at Heathfield. They walked down the gravel drive together and the tall, fair-haired man and the slender black-haired girl made a picture that caused every stablehand who saw them to smile paternally. Mr. Wrexham looked like the sort of man who should be Lady Jane's husband.
David was out at one of the paddocks and Jane had taken her suitor around the stables before he returned. They were standing in the yard when he came through the door in the far wing which led out to the heath. Jane called to him and he came unhurriedly across the yard to meet them. He looked faintly ironic at Jane's introduction of him as “My uncle's trainer and one of my oldest friends,” but he nodded pleasantly at Mr. Wrexham and asked if there was anything else he might like to see.
David was slightly taller than Wrexham and as he looked up into the gold-flecked amber eyes of Lord Rayleigh's trainer the expression on his face froze. Jane was too preoccupied to notice; her own vivid face and brilliant eyes attested to the secret delight she was hugging to herself. David looked curiously at the man who wanted to marry Jane and saw only the elegant bones and gray eyes of a born aristocrat. He glanced quickly at Jane, saw the look on her face, and hurried into speech. “Do you and Mr. Wrexham want to ride out, Jane?"
"Yes. I thought I would take Mr. Wrexham over to Marren Hill.” She looked alarmingly like a small girl bent on mischief, and David turned away before he had to smile back at her.
"A good idea,” he said. “I'll see to the horses. Mr. Wrexham,” he nodded again to Jane's companion, who had not said a word, and disappeared into the stable.
Julian Wrexham was unusually silent as they rode across the heath, but as Jane was unusually chatty, she didn't notice. She was glad to be home, glad to be out on the heath, glad most of all because of David. Some of her happiness spilled over to include Mr. Wrexham, and she talked enthusiastically the whole way.
They reached the bottom of Marren Hill and Jane said, “David and I used to picnic here all the time when we were children. There is an old quarry on the other side. The view from the top is really lovely."
"You have known David all your life, I gather,” he said in a rather restrained tone.
"Yes. Ever since I came to live with my uncle when I was six. We grew up together."
There was a pause, then Julian Wrexham said, “Would you like to climb the hill with me? I would enjoy seeing the view."
Jane looked doubtfully at his immaculate buckskin breeches. “It is rather a rough climb,” she said.
He smiled. “I don't mind if you don't."
They dismounted, tied up the horses, and Jane had to admit he managed the steep path quite creditably. He admired the view profusely and looked with interest at the steep, sheer drop of the quarry to the rocky hillside below. They sat down beneath one of the beech trees and he said to her casually, “Just who is David—Chance, did you say?"
Jane looked surprised and then wary. “David is my uncle's trainer, Mr. Wrexham."
He looked at her face and a charming smile suddenly lit his own. “I don't mean to pry,” he said. “I am just surprised to find such a young boy in a position of such responsibility. Is he really in charge of all your uncle's horses?"
He had taken exactly the right tack. Jane discoursed for many minutes on the quality of her uncle's horses and David's undisputed brilliance in handling them. “He has been in sole charge for six months now, ever since Tuft retired. Uncle Edward is very pleased with him,” she concluded.
"Was David's father a groom also?” he asked.
"No, David's father was the steward of a great estate in France. He was killed in the revolution. David's aunt brought him to England seventeen years ago and they have lived in Newmarket ever since."
"I see. He lives with his aunt, then."
"His aunt died a few years ago. He lives alone how, in that cottage closest to Heathfield on the Newmarket Road."
"His mother is dead also?"
Jane was surprised by his curiosity, but she answered readily enough. “Yes. She died in France soon after David was born."
He smiled once again at her puzzled face. “I number several French émigrés among my closest friends, so I am always interested in the subject. What part of France was David's family from?"
"Artois."
He bowed his head for a minute and when he looked up his gray eyes were darker than usual. “That cursed revolution has caused much suffering for many people,” he said soberly.
Jane, who could only approve of a revolution that had brought her David, did not reply, and in a few minutes they were preparing to retrace their steps down the hill and back toward Heathfield.
Race week at Newmarket was as colorful, exciting, and busy as ever. The Marquis's horses did very well, particularly the three-year-olds. There was only one incident to mar the smooth surface of the week; someone tried to tamper with Pericles, Lord Rayleigh's most promising three-year-old. David discovered it when he went to check on the horses, as he invariably did the night before a race.
David slept above the stable during race week. A great deal of money changed hands at Newmarket and he was conscious of the not infrequent attempts that had been made in the past to bribe the stableboys to give a horse a bucketful of water before a race or to slip a drug into its feed. A favorite who did not win could make someone a tidy sum of money. David felt happier being close enough to keep an eye on the stable, night and day.
Everyone else was in bed and asleep when David made his final rounds at about eleven o'clock. It was part of his routine so the man whom he surprised outside of Pericles's stall was obviously unfamiliar with his schedule.
Pericles's stall was the last one on the left-hand row, directly before the tack room. David unlatched the lower part of the stall door and bent to put his lantern down when something hit him hard on the back of the head. He pitched to the ground and lay still. The dark figure of the attacker raised its arm again, but Pericles lashed out with his teeth over the open top half of the stall and the intruder backed off. The upset thoroughbred then crashed his hoofs into the door, knocking it into David's unconscious body. The horse whistled shrilly and as there was a sound of running feet the intruder melted back into the darkness of the tack room.
The whole family was at breakfast the next morning when McAllister, the butler, informed them of the previous night's disturbance. All the color drained from Jane's face. “Is he all right?” she demanded fiercely.
"Yes, Lady Jane,” McAllister answered reassuringly. “Stubbs took him home and fetched the doctor. He told Mr. David to keep to his bed this morning, but otherwise he is fine."
Without a word Jane put down her napkin, rose from the table, and left the room. There was a grim line around Lord Rayleigh's mouth as he said to Julian Wrexham, “I must apologize for my niece. David is like a brother to her and she is naturally concerned about him."
"I perfectly understand,” Wrexham replied graciously. “There is no need to apologize."
But the grim line did not relax around the Marquis's mouth. Mr. Wrexham did not perfectly understand Jane's behavior; Lord Rayleigh was afraid that
he
did.
Jane took the shortcut through the Home Woods that brought her to David's cottage in ten minutes. She opened the front door, out of breath and flushed from running, and found Mrs. Copley tidying up the big front room. “Lady Jane!” she said, clearly startled by Jane's sudden appearance.
"How is he, Mrs. Copley?” she asked urgently.