Melinda Hammond (14 page)

‘Caro, are you ready to gallop the fidgets from your hack? And you, Stacey, shall we see what that little mare of yours can do? Philip and I are going to race to that copse up there on the hill.’

‘By all means!’ declared Eustacia, kicking her mare on. ‘Come on, Bianca, show them your heels!’

Scenting a race, the horses leapt forward. Major Lagallan was soon leading the way on his big hunter, with Vivyan in hot pursuit. Eustacia gave herself up to the excitement of the chase. She was aware of horses pounding behind her, but she did not look round, revelling in the wind on her skin and the thunder of hoofs as they flew across the turf. All too soon it was over. They reached the copse and the horses slowed. Eustacia brought her mare up alongside Vivyan’s rangy black stallion.

‘Well, Stacey, better now?’ He grinned at her.

She laughed up at him, her eyes shining.

‘That was wonderful! Bianca has the most beautiful action! I have never ridden her so hard before, and we were gaining on you!’ She added mischievously, ‘Another few lengths and we would have been neck and neck!’

‘Ha! You flatter yourself, brat. I wasn’t even trying!’

Their banter was interrupted by Mr Alleyne, who rode up at that moment, his eyes positively blazing.

‘Just what do you think you are about?’ he demanded furiously.

Mr Lagallan looked at him, his brows raised. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘When you all set off like that, it was obvious that the other horses would want to follow! Miss Pensford could not hold back her mount, and she has had the most wretched time of it! I assure you she did not wish to go careering across the country like a hoyden at breakneck speed!’

‘Do you imply that is what I was doing, Rupert?’ demanded Miss Marchant, her eyes glittering dangerously.

‘You know very well it is different for you, Stacey. You are a natural horsewoman, but Miss Pensford might well have been thrown!’

Eustacia looked around: Miss Pensford did indeed appear to be flustered. Her usually neat hair had worked its way loose from her bonnet, and little tendrils were curling about her face. She looked very cross. Miss Marchant immediately wheeled about, saying as she rode up to her, ‘Oh, Helen, I am so sorry. I did not think! But we have been riding together before, at home, and you were never worried by it.’

‘At home I have my own dear Snowball to ride. This hired hack is very different. Once he had made up his mind, there was no stopping him; I could only hold on and hope I would not be tossed out of my seat.’ Miss Pensford managed a little smile. ‘Just give me a little more notice before you race off again, that I may call the groom to help me control this beast.’

Having assured herself that Helen was happy to continue, Eustacia turned away, her high spirits flattened. Mr Alleyne drew alongside her.

‘I do not know how you came to be so thoughtless!’ he muttered, in a furious undervoice.

‘I think the blame rests with Caroline and myself,’ remarked Major Lagallan, turning his charming smile upon Miss Pensford. ‘We were invited along to keep you young people in order, and we have behaved like veritable children ourselves, for the temptation to race was just too strong. My apologies, Miss Pensford. I trust you are not hurt?’

Succumbing to the coaxing tone, Miss Pensford smiled, somewhat mollified.

‘Thank you, Major, I am not hurt. I am sorry to have caused so much concern. My horse would not be stopped, but there was never any real danger, the groom was very close, and Mr Alleyne matched my pace all the way, so I was not abandoned.’ She threw that young man a grateful smile.

Major Lagallan nodded. ‘Very well, then. Shall we continue?’

As they moved off, Eustacia glanced towards Mr Alleyne, but he ignored her. She realized he was still very angry.

‘Don’t worry, brat, he’ll come about.’

She turned to find Vivyan beside her.

‘Rupert is right; it
was
thoughtless of me. I had not considered that Helen might not wish to race.’

‘She came to no harm.’ His dark eyes glinted. ‘Miss Pensford is not the sort to need rescuing from scrapes.’ Eustacia had a sudden, vivid memory of her first meeting with Vivyan; tears pricked her eyelids. ‘Stacey — what is it?’

His concern was unbearable. Muttering an excuse she turned away from him, urging her mare into a trot until she had caught up with Caroline Lagallan, and she rode beside her until they reached the gates of Kenton Park.

‘Our host has a prior engagement and sends his apologies that he cannot greet us in person,’ explained Vivyan. ‘He was also good enough to say that if the weather should turn inclement, we may repair to the house for shelter.’

Fortunately, they had no need to resort to such measures. The meal, served alfresco in the shade of a towering chestnut tree, did much to restore the party’s spirits, although Mr Alleyne was still angry with Eustacia, and this manifested itself in his studious attentions towards Miss Pensford.

Sitting beside Mrs Lagallan, Eustacia surreptitiously watched Rupert as he escorted Miss Pensford to a shady seat, selected the most succulent dishes to tempt her appetite and hovered around her, as solicitous as any courtier. She was a little afraid that Vivyan might take exception to such behaviour, but a look reassured her that Mr Lagallan was deep in conversation with his brother, discussing the latest peace negotiations.

When their meal was finished, Major Lagallan took his wife off for a stroll, and Vivyan threw himself down on the rug beside Miss Marchant.

‘Well, nymph, are you pleased with your little outing?’

Eustacia smiled; the fine wine provided by the major had made her sleepy and content.

‘Extremely,’ she murmured. ‘We should picnic at least once a month when we are in Town.’

‘But this time next year we shall both be married, and most likely buried on our estates,’ Vivyan reminded her. ‘I think Helen will want to play the great lady to her neighbours.’

Eustacia gave her attention to picking daisies from the short grass.

‘And you will be there with her, Vivyan?’

‘Of course. I shall be the model husband.’

‘Will you?’ She turned her direct gaze upon him. ‘Will that make you happy, Vivyan?’

A black frown darkened his brow. He sat up. ‘Don’t, Stacey.’

‘I want you both to be happy, Vivyan.’

‘I shall give Helen no cause for complaint.’

Eustacia gave a little smile.

‘That is not quite the same thing,’ she said. ‘You do not love her, do you?’

‘I have offered for her, and she has accepted me. I cannot go back on it. Gentlemen don’t cry off from an engagement.’ A wry smile twisted his mouth. ‘You are still young enough to follow your dreams, Stacey. I pray they will come true for you.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘The wind is getting up. We had best be heading back.’

* * * *

The riders decided to skirt the bustling spa town of Hampstead on their return journey, Vivyan leading them unerringly through the labyrinth of country lanes to rejoin the main road just north of Tottenham.

‘Vivyan, I am always amazed at your powers of navigation,’ declared Caroline, as they trotted out on to the wider road and waited for the rest of the group to catch up.

‘One of the few benefits of my wild youth, Caro! I spent many a night at that inn we passed at Frith.’

Caroline nodded at Miss Marchant, who was riding beside her. ‘We thought as much when we noticed how the landlord doffed his cap to you!’

Vivyan grinned. ‘Aye, old Reedman was always ready to turn a blind eye to our sprees. For a fee, of course. And it’s well known that The Sun is the haunt for more than one gentleman of the road.’

‘Do you mean highwaymen?’ breathed Eustacia. ‘You’ve
met
them?’

‘Well, they weren’t introduced to me as such!’

‘Pray, Stacey, don’t encourage him,’ begged Caroline, her eyes twinkling. ‘Vivyan has left that world behind him now, have you not, brother?’

‘To be sure I have, but it is always useful to know such a landlord. One never knows when it might be necessary.’

Mrs Lagallan frowned at him but said no more, for Miss Pensford and Mr Alleyne had joined them, and she quickly turned the conversation to more unexceptional topics. Miss Marchant became lost in thought as they rode back into town, and did not notice how far she had dropped behind the others until Caroline turned her horse to wait for her.

‘Poor Stacey, are you so very tired?’

‘Not a bit of it!’ Eustacia replied, smiling. ‘I was merely daydreaming.’

‘By the by, I must write to Lady Bilderston. We are going out of town next week, and will not be able to attend her party.’

‘Oh, and — and will you be away long?’

‘I am taking the children to Worthing. Philip has business in Town, so Vivyan has offered to take us. He is going to stay for a few days to help us settle in. His carriage is so well sprung, and little Philip is such a bad traveller, I hope it will be better for him. Pray don’t look so downhearted, my love.’

‘I cannot help it! Godmama has arranged the party on Wednesday especially for me, and I did so want you to be there. And I was hoping you would be at Lady Addingham’s dress ball on the Saturday. Godmama says it will be the most spectacular of the season, and she has bought me yet another new gown, and — oh, I shall miss you, Caroline!’ Mrs Lagallan leaned across and patted her hand. ‘And I shall miss you, my love, but I have no doubt that we shall meet again in Town this winter! Besides, Vivyan has promised to attend the Addingham party - he is travelling back on Saturday morning so that he will not miss it. You may show off your new gown to him — I know you value his opinion above anything
I
could tell you! Now, let us enjoy a little gallop and catch up with the others.’

* * * *

Over the next few days, it seemed to Eustacia that many of her friends were planning to leave London. As Town grew hotter, families began to talk of removing to the coast or returning to their country retreats. Never a lover of town life, Sir Jasper was eager to return to Somerset and suggested that Eustacia should come back with him until such time as Mr Alleyne could discuss their engagement with his elusive parent.

‘Young Alleyne can come, too, if that would make you happy,’ Sir Jasper added, seeing her look of dismay. But in the end it was agreed that he would leave Eustacia with her godmother until Lady Bilderston herself removed to Brighton at the beginning of July.

‘Well, that works out splendidly!’ Sir Jasper told Mr Alleyne, who had joined them at Fanshawe Gardens for Sir Jasper’s last dinner in Town. ‘Your father is due in London at the end of June, is he not? I shall leave a letter for him, my boy, and trust we shall be able to secure this engagement and announce it before Bella here leaves Town.’

Miss Marchant did not think Mr Alleyne looked at all delighted with this news, and when they gathered in the drawing-room later that evening she waited until Lady Bilderston and her grandfather were engrossed in a game of backgammon before drawing Rupert away to the window, ostensibly to show him her latest watercolour. She drew a deep breath.

‘Rupert, perhaps — perhaps we should not go ahead with this engagement.’

He stared at her. ‘What are you saying, Stacey?’

‘I — that is … Rupert, I am not sure that we should—’

He caught her hands. ‘My dear, you are still upset because I was angry with you over that foolish ride!’

‘No, no, but... I do not want us to make a mistake.’

‘Silly puss, how can that be?’ he said, smiling down at her. ‘You risked so much to find me! Was ever a man so undeserving of such fidelity?’

‘Rupert, you are not undeserving! Indeed, you deserve far more than I can ever give you—’

‘Now that is quite enough!’ He frowned at her, laying one finger over her lips. ‘Promise me you will say no more about it. We have your grandfather’s blessing, and I am sure my father will not object. If all goes well, we could be married by Christmas.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘And I tell you what I shall do! There is a new play opening at Covent Garden — I shall secure a box, and escort you and your godmama to see it! There, that will be a high treat, will it not?’

‘Yes, of course. That is very kind of you, Rupert, but—’

The entry of the tea tray interrupted their discussion, and there was no opportunity for any further private talk before Rupert took his leave shortly after eleven o’clock.

* * * *

After waving goodbye to her grandfather the next morning, Miss Marchant hoped for a period of quiet reflection to help her unravel her tangled thoughts, but she had scarcely had time to sit down in the morning-room with Lady Bilderston, when Mr Alleyne was announced.

‘Good news!’ declared that young man, as soon as he had greeted his hostess. ‘You will recall I told you last night that I would take you to see the new play at Covent Garden? Well, a good friend of mine has broken his leg — not that
that
is good news, of course, but he had taken a box at the theatre for this very evening, and now that he cannot go he has offered the tickets to me!’ he smiled at the ladies. ‘Well, what shall I tell him — are you free to attend tonight?’

Lady Bilderston beamed at his glowing countenance.

‘How kind of you to think of us, dear boy! I admit I would dearly love to go with you — what do you say, Eustacia?’

‘I should like to go,’ agreed Miss Marchant, ‘but are we not promised to attend Lady Oakham’s rout this evening?’

Lady Bilderston shook her head. ‘No, no, I thought we might look in there, but it was never firmly agreed, you know. Well, my dear?’

Eustacia hesitated, then smiled. Very well, let us go to the theatre!’

* * * *

By the time Lady Bilderston’s carriage clattered across the piazza, the theatre was already filling up. Mr Alleyne ushered his guests into the box, placing their chairs for the best view and behaving so attentively that, as they took their seats, Lady Bilderston could not help observing to Eustacia how fortunate she was in her choice of bridegroom. Miss Marchant gave her attention to the stage and did not reply, but she felt as if the net were closing ever tighter about her.

Rupert had arranged for refreshments to be served in the interval, and while he pointed out to Eustacia the little delicacies he had chosen for her, Lady Bilderston was free to seek out familiar faces in the auditorium, and she entertained them with a constant flow of chatter.