Lady Jane's Ribbons (31 page)

There were carriages and gigs along the roadside now, waiting to see the race. Ladies and gentlemen stood up to cheer as the coaches thundered past, their cheers redoubling as they recognized Lewis and Jane. The closer to the town they came, the more people lined the wayside. Noise and excitement filled the air and Jane’s pulse was rushing almost unbearably as the first villas loomed on either side. They must get past, they must!

Beside her, Lewis sat quietly, his whip untouched, whereas Sewell’s could frequently be heard as he discarded style in favor of an absolute desperation to hurl his coach over the line first.

The Steyne lay ahead now and the road widened. Lewis picked up his whip and cracked it just once. The Swan sprang forward as the team threw themselves into their collars, instantly gaining on the other coach. Sewell couldn’t weave now, not in such a very public place, and so he had no option but to watch the Swan creeping inexorably up on him.

Jane could hardly bear to watch. The finish seemed so very near. There wasn’t time! They’d never do it! The team’s ears were pricked, they had energy in hand, but the Nonpareil’s skewbalds didn’t have any more to give. As Lewis had predicted, all that weaving had used them up. Gradually the Swan was drawing alongside so that the leaders were neck-and-neck, but then something made her remember the trace. Her eyes fled toward it and her heart leapt with panic – the damaged link was slowly giving way! She stared at the exposed metal, too frozen with fear to do anything but
whisper
a warning. ‘Lewis, the trace is breaking!’

He didn’t hear her above the crescendo of noise all around as the race neared its climax and the two stagecoaches flew head-long toward the streamers and bunting marking the finish.

She heard the sickening snap as the link finally parted company, the broken trace striking sparks from the cobbles as it dangled loose. The team
checked perceptibly, swerving to one side, but Lewis caught them back, cracking his whip again so that they made a final effort to keep going, sheer impetus carrying them over the line half a length in front of the Nonpareil.

Jane hardly knew that they’d won, she was too rigid with fear as the coach careened on, the horses unnerved by the broken trace and consequent lack of tension on one side. Screams of alarm rose from the crowd as it parted hastily to let the coach through, and an orange girl dropped her tray of fruit so that it rolled in all directions. The off-side wheel struck a
gingerbread
stall, bringing it crashing to the ground, and all the time Lewis
struggled
to bring the team back to hand, applying the brakes and calling out soothingly. Jane stared at the royal pavilion which was coming up fast now right ahead. Surely they must drive straight across its grounds! But then Lewis regained full control, easing the sweating horses to a surprisingly gentle halt right at the entrance to the royal drive.

She remained where she was, still too taut with fright to move. He looked at her, smiling a little. ‘Are you at a loss for words, madam?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s a dire length a man has to go to to achieve that satisfactory state of affairs,’ he said lightly.

The crowds were pressing around the coach now, cheering
enthusiastically
because the outsider had won, and because the finish had been so very exciting. Lewis paused only long enough to be sure Jane was all right; then he vaulted down to push his way through the press toward the Nonpareil.

Chapman had already alighted and had his back toward the Swan, but he span around in an instant on hearing Lewis’s cold voice. ‘Chapman! I want you!’

A hush fell on the gathering as everyone craned to see what was
happening
. From her vantage point on the Swan, Jane could see quite clearly.

Chapman’s face was ashen as Lewis strode up to him and without warning flattened him with a deadly blow to the chin. The coachmaster sprawled motionless on the ground, knocked out completely by the force of the punch. The crowd gasped, and Sewell looked down in fear as he in turn received Lewis’s lethal attention. The coachman was jerked down bodily from the safety of the box, and shaken like a rat, his head wobbling so much that his pristine white hat fell off and rolled under the hooves of the nearest wheeler.

‘P-please, my l-lord!’ stammered the unfortunate man.

‘If you ever cross my path again, Sewell, I’ll ram your nasty little head down the nearest gutter, is that clear? Tread the straight and narrow, my laddo, like a good boy.’ Lewis flung the terrified man away so that he
stumbled
over Chapman, who had just begun to sit up. The two sprawled back again, much to the mirth of the onlookers, and then Lewis turned on his heel to come back to the Swan. He smiled up at Jane. ‘That was a little unfinished business, but I’m sure you understand its urgency.’

‘I do, sir.’

He held up his hand to assist her down, and the crowds began to cheer again. Her yellow skirts whispered as she slipped down from the box, and he smiled into her eyes as he drew her hand to his lips. ‘Well done, Lady Jane, you showed them all.’

She was about to reply, when a man pushed through the crowd toward them, an immense basket of roses in his hands. ‘Lady Jane Derwent?’ he inquired.

‘Yes?’ She turned in puzzlement.

‘These are for you.’ He pushed the basket into her arms and then gave her a sealed letter before vanishing into the crowd again.

Slowly, she put the roses down and then, with Lewis still next to her, she broke the seal on the letter.

My darling Jane, I know that you will do well on race day, which is why I’m taking the liberty of having these flowers waiting for you. I love you. Charles.

She turned quickly back toward Lewis, but he had gone. She knew that he’d read the brief note and put entirely the wrong interpretation upon it.

As the weary race followers began to arrive, everyone of consequence adjourned to the Castle Inn to enjoy the iced champagne which had been promised. There was much celebrating of the Swan’s famous victory, and Lady Jane’s ribbons were toasted time and time again, but Jane found little to
celebrate
, for Lewis hadn’t spoken to her since she’d received Charles’s roses.

The vanquished Nonpareil was the object of much interest from the crowd which still milled around on the Steyne, having been left there when Chapman and Sewell had taken to their heels after being soundly whacked by Aunt Derwent and her vengeful parasol. Furious at all they’d done, she claimed from Henry the right to deal out their punishment, marching up to them in full view of everyone to tell them exactly what she thought of them.

Lord Sefton had already dealt with them, having lost no time at all on arriving to inform Chapman that he’d soon be losing his license, Sewell being told that he’d be wise not to try finding work in London for a goodly time, since word of his participation in such villainy as today’s on the high road would soon be put about everywhere that mattered. Neither man denied anything anymore when they learned that the men used to break the Iron Duke’s wheels had been recognized from their descriptions and could definitely be linked to the Nonpareil. By the time Aunt Derwent and her parasol came on the scene, the two wished with all their hearts that they’d
never even heard of the race, let alone tried to win it.

Henry would dearly have liked to punish them himself, but he bowed to Blanche’s pleas that he shouldn’t risk any further injury after all that had happened. He was philosophical about the defeat he’d received at his sister’s hands, admitting quite openly that he’d deserved to be beaten, and even going so far as to magnanimously propose a toast himself to Lady Jane and her ribbons. It was quite evident, even to the astonished sporting element in the gathering, that losing the race didn’t really matter very much to him – all that mattered was that he had Blanche back. Jane could smile wryly to herself about this, for at least she’d succeeded in what she’d set out to do; she’d brought her ninny of a brother to his senses and made him realize what was really important in his life.

Naturally enough, Will and Betsy wouldn’t have felt at ease in such company, and so as Betsy hadn’t been to the seaside before, they’d gone to the beach to celebrate the Swan’s victory in their own way.

Jane sat in a windowseat gazing out at the crowded Steyne, an untouched glass of champagne growing steadily warm and flat on the ledge beside her. Street musicians were playing a fiddle, drum, and penny whistle just by the window and some of the crowd were dancing to the music. The jaunty notes clashed with the more restrained playing of the military band outside the pavilion.

The basket of roses stood on the floor beside her and now and then she caught their perfume, in spite of the cigar smoke drifting so heavily in the crowded room. She ran her fingertips over the cool petals. Oh, Charles, it was a sweet gesture, but it could not have happened at a more inopportune moment. And the accompanying letter could not have been more ambiguously worded, leaving Lewis with the firm impression that she and the writer had more than a slight understanding. She’d tried to speak to him, but he’d gone out of his way to avoid her, and when she had managed to say a few words to try and explain, he’d cut her short in a way as cold and distant as any he’d employed in recent weeks. He was a stranger again, and it was as if the companionship and shared experience of the race had never happened. There had been moments on the Swan when she’d felt sure he loved her still, but now there was no trace of warmth in him – he seemed to loathe the very sight of her.

Aunt Derwent came to sit beside her. ‘Alicia and the duke appear to have patched up their quarrel. She’s all over him, like some horrid creeping vine.’

Jane glanced toward the Duke and Duchess of Brantingham, who were lounging together on a large sofa as if they’d never been apart. Alicia had attended to her rather dusty clothes and was supremely elegant once more, her heavy hair pinned up but looking as if it might tumble deliciously down at any moment, which of course it never would. She looked radiantly happy and genuinely so, which Jane found surprising to say the least, considering the unlikely appearance and age of the gentleman who appeared to inspire such
joy. The Duke of Brantingham was elderly, balding, and rather on the thin side, and even though he dressed elegantly enough he didn’t have that style or charm that Jane would have thought a woman like Alicia would require.

Aunt Derwent sipped Jane’s champagne and then wrinkled her nose. ‘Good lord, it’s almost boiling.’ She glanced at her niece and saw how she was still looking at the Brantinghams. ‘Yes, it is rather surprising, isn’t it? But then, perhaps it isn’t….’

‘Oh?’

‘Brantingham may look a dry old stick, but he’s got hidden talents.’

Jane looked at her in astonishment. ‘Don’t say
he’s
part of your past as well?’

‘Part of Jenny Lindleigh’s past, and she confided everything in me. I thought when Alicia snapped him up that she’d done remarkably well for herself, and I was more than a little startled when the marriage came to such a rocky parting of the ways so very quickly. Alicia’s a fool, of course; she always has been and she always will be.’

‘Men find her fascinating.’

‘She knows how to be fascinating, but she hasn’t a clue how to be
sensible
. She fell in love with Brantingham in spite of herself, and then she
couldn’t
bring herself to face the fact that she’d given her heart to such a Methuselah. She played around like the immature creature she is, and as a consequence lost him. I gather that it was left to Lewis, who in my opinion has never loved her, to make her finally realize what she wanted. Which brings me to you, my girl. Why on earth are you moping over here by
yourself
? And why hasn’t Lewis even glanced at you since we arrived? Well?’

Jane lowered her eyes. ‘It’s the same old story.’

‘And I’m the same old aunt, prepared to listen in the old way as usual. Come now, Jane, tell me what’s happened, because I confess to being quite astonished that after dashing away together on the Swan you should arrive victoriously in Brighton and not even be speaking. Did you quarrel all the way?’

‘No, quite the opposite. Everything was wonderful until these were presented to me.’ Jane touched the roses.

‘But they’re lovely. Who are they from?’

‘Charles.’

‘Oh.’

‘And this letter was with them.’

Aunt Derwent took the letter and read it. ‘Oh, dear.’

‘Lewis saw it.’

‘And put two and two together to make five?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why don’t you tell him then?’

‘I’ve tried, but he won’t even speak civilly to me. At least, that’s not quite true, he speaks civilly, but so coldly that I couldn’t bear it.’ Jane looked across at Alicia again, for she’d deserted her husband and gone to speak to Lewis.

He smiled as she came up to him, slipping his arm lightly around her small waist and kissing her on the cheek. Alicia smiled up at him,
whispering
something in his ear which made him laugh.

It was too much for Jane. ‘Excuse me, Aunt Derwent, I can’t stay here any more. I’ll be out by the Swan if you need me.’ Gathering her skirts, she went quickly from the room, just as Lord Sefton proposed another toast to Lady Jane’s ribbons.

Aunt Derwent looked sadly after her as she hurried out onto the Steyne, and then rose determinedly to her feet, crossing the crowded floor to tap Lewis on the shoulder. ‘A word with you, sir.’

He turned from Alicia, his smile fading when he saw who was addressing him. ‘Lady Agatha?’

‘I want a word with you, in private.’

He inclined his head. ‘Very well.’

‘I will join you outside in the courtyard in a moment, but first I wish to speak to Alicia.’

He bowed and withdrew, and Aunt Derwent faced Alicia. It was time to intervene as much as possible, and to fib more than a little into the bargain. ‘Now then, I think we have a few irritating details to sort out, don’t you?’

‘Irritating details?’

‘Yes. You told my niece a despicable lie about your relationship with Lewis, and I think it only right that you should now tell the truth.’

Alicia raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? And why should I do that?’

‘Because I think you want to keep your husband now that you’ve managed to win him back.’

Alicia’s green eyes were guarded. ‘And what can you do to make me tell Jane anything?’

‘I can go to Brantingham and tell him a few home truths about you, truths he doesn’t even dream about. You’ve been behaving very badly in recent years, my dear, and I know rather more than you’d like to have him find out.’

‘He wouldn’t listen to you.’

Aunt Derwent crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘My dear Alicia, Brantingham was listening to me when you were still learning your alphabet. Perhaps you would be convinced if I told you he has a sickle-shaped scar on the lower righthand side of his back, a scar I’d hardly know anything about unless I’d shared some, er, intimate moments with him.’ Thank goodness Jenny Lindleigh had had such a wagging tongue after her brief escapade with the duke all those years before, an escapade which had been a companion prank to the pretend elopement with Percy Byrde, but which had gone that little bit further!

Alicia was staring at her. ‘You and Brantie?’ she breathed.

‘Brantie? So that’s what you call him, is it? I won’t bore you with my name for him. Now then, my dear, what’s it to be? Will you do the right thing by my niece, or do I toddle across to, er, Brantie right now and tell him the painful truth about his beloved?’

‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Try me.’

Alicia hesitated then. Lady Agatha Derwent was perhaps too much to take on at this particular time. ‘Very well, I’ll do as you ask. Not that it’s going to avail Jane of anything, since it’s quite obvious to me that Lewis isn’t in the least interested in her anymore.’

‘You do what you’re required to do, missy, and leave Lewis Ardenley to me.’

‘Where will I find Jane?’

‘I believe she’s out by the Swan.’

Alicia coolly inclined her head and went out.

Aunt Derwent drew a long breath. Dear me, how easy it was to tell fibs and be totally convincing; it was a rather disreputable talent she’d no idea she possessed to such a degree. There, that was the first part of it out of the way – now for the rest of it. If Alicia confessed the truth, Jane would be finally convinced that Lewis had never deceived her, but equally Lewis must be persuaded that there was nothing going on between Jane and Charles. And if that didn’t work, she’d knock their silly heads together!

It was relatively quiet in the courtyard and Lewis was leaning on a rail smoking a thin cigar. His head was bare and his hair very bright in the
afternoon
sun. She observed him for a moment, thinking that poor Charles had never stood a chance – he couldn’t hold a candle to this man.

He saw her and straightened, quickly putting out the cigar. ‘You wished to speak with me, Lady Agatha?’

‘Yes, Lewis, and I rather think you already know what about.’

‘Jane?’

‘How perceptive of you.’ She studied him critically. ‘I didn’t take you for a fool, sir, but that is nevertheless what you appear to be.’

‘There are times when I can see where Jane’s sharp tongue comes from.’

She smiled a little. ‘That’s as may be, but I cannot for the life of me think where your stupidity comes from. Jane isn’t going to marry Charles – she isn’t even encouraging him. She’s turned him down once and for all, and he realizes it. Those roses were ordered several days ago, and if the wording of the note is rather unfortunate, it still doesn’t mean that she returns the
sentiments
it expresses. She’s fond of Charles, but that is all. It’s you that she loves, Lewis Ardenley, and I think it’s high time you went to her and
apologized
for your disgraceful behavior. You do love her, don’t you?’

He gave a wry smile. ‘Oh, Lady Agatha, if you only knew how much.’

‘My dear sir, I believe that from my own experience I can hazard a very fair guess.’ She surveyed him. ‘Lewis, I’m very fond of you, and I know that you’re the only man for my niece. Indeed, as far as she’s concerned, no one else will do. Now then, I’ve done all I possibly can to smooth your paths. I’ve even, er, leaned a little on Alicia to confess her past fibs. The slate is absolutely clean at this moment, so it’s up to you and Jane to put the past behind you and get on with things.’

He came toward her, taking her hand and raising it gently to his lips, then holding it for a moment as he looked down into her eyes. ‘You’re a very wise woman, Lady Agatha, as well as a very lovely one, and I think that the Duke of Wellington made a very sad mistake when he failed to make you his duchess.’

‘Just see that you don’t make a similar mistake, Lewis, for you and Jane were put on this earth to be together. Now, go to her. You’ll find her out by the Swan.’

He kissed her hand again and then left her. She took a long breath. Henry and Blanche had sorted out their problems, and if all went well, soon Jane and Lewis would have done the same, which would bring a very memorable day to a more than satisfactory conclusion.

Jane was seated on a bench watching the small crowd gathered around the Swan. The team had long since been removed to the inn’s stables to be baited and the coach stood alone on the Steyne, its blue panels still dusty from the race. She gazed at the box, remembering the moment when Lewis had first taken the ribbons, and the brief touch of his lips over hers. For luck.

The street musicians were still playing, as was the band by the pavilion, and there was an air of festivity which would carry on until well into the night, when a fireworks display was planned on the beach. She felt no such festive spirit, even though she now had Alicia’s confession that she’d lied all those months before. Lewis hadn’t been unfaithful; everything he’d said had been the truth. But she, like a fool, hadn’t believed him. Oh, had there ever been a greater fool since the beginning of creation? She’d put her so-called pride first and given him his ring back, and thus plunged them both into heartbreak. At least, she’d plunged herself into heartbreak – she no longer knew what Lewis’s feelings were. There had been times during the race when she thought she could detect something more than mere warmth in his eyes, but now he was so unbelievably cold and remote that she felt he really loathed her. Perhaps he did, perhaps he’d never really forgive her for her lack of faith. Today on the Swan she’d felt closer to him than at any time since the dreadful day she’d paid heed to Alicia’s lies; Charles’s roses had put an end to that. Now there was only coldness and she didn’t know how to reach past it; she didn’t even know if it was possible to reach past it. Maybe it was too late.