A Fine Caprice - A Regency Romance (7 page)

Caprice
had not minded staying in Warwickshire, although she would have liked to see the sights of London. Notoriously reclusive, her parents rarely went up to town, which meant that she rarely went either. Angelique
had
wanted her to join her for a few weeks but instea
d she had written long, newsy
letters about the dances, the balls, the picnics and the very odd peopl
e that one encountered in town
. When she became engaged she had returned home and had come to Tannith Meadow
almost immediately, full of
news. She had
confided in
Caprice
that she was the luckiest girl in the world for her soon to be husband was delightful
in every way
.
He made her laugh. He made her sing. Perhaps they could have a joint wedding? They were very fashionable at th
e moment; the Sinclair twins having set the
precedent earlier in the Season.

I
t had it had been Angelique’s
obvious
happiness that had made
Caprice
realize that her own feeling
s for Eric were
more tepid
than they possibly should be, when one took on the commitment of marriage
.
She had no doubt that she would have a very agreeable time of it as Eric’s wife, but she knew that he care
d
for her far more than she cared for him. And where was the honesty in that? The knowledge that marrying Eric would be doing them both a disservice was like a bolt out of the blue, prompted by Angelique’s joy
in her forthcoming nuptials. Caprice
had broken it off with him two days later, bringing down a storm of unpleasant speculation on her head. She made no bones of the f
act that it was entirely her
fault, for it was true, after all. It had all
been very awkward, but even now
she knew it had been the right thing to do. When she had last seen Eric, only two weeks before in Ludlow as she was
looking through the window
of her dressmakers, he had his wife on his arm and he had appeared very happy, smiling at something she said.
She was surprised at the surge of relief that had flooded her at the sight of the pair; despite the fact that she believed she was doing the right thing when she ended their relationship, the knowledge that she had
hurt Eric had been a painful burden
to carry around
.

If one of the outcomes of jilting her fiancé had been a growing reputation for eccentricity, well, that was hardly to be wondered at. Having two such vague and placid parents meant that she had far more latitude than most girls of her age and station. She tried very hard not to
overstep the boundaries too far
but sometimes the enticement of breeches and a good, hard ride were too much to resist.
And, while she kept more or less on Lambert property, sometimes she encountered her neighbours and her reputation grew and… well, it was an issue she was not sure how to deal with. She tho
ught that perhaps she might like
to meet and marry someone, some day but it was hardly likely to take place any time soon. It might very well be that she remained unmarried. A spinster, just as her aunt had suggested.
Caprice
wasn’t at all sure what she thought about that so she decided not to think about it at all, for the moment. She didn’t
feel
like a spinster, not yet. S
urely there was time to meet a man
?

With such thoughts beginning to plague her, a little time away from Tannith Meado
w might be just the thing. S
taying with Angelique
would be most enjoyable
, a distraction from the goings on back home
. And
while she was away, her parents would undoubtedly recover
their equilibrium and things could settle back down again.
After
that
… well, she could work out what it was she was supposed to be doing with her life.

A squall of frigid rain
blew into her face and she tucked
her chin further down into her muffler. It must be quite late by now, surely past ten. She had lingered a little over her dinner, half dozing by the fire that had burned in the taproom out the back of the
Merry Maiden
while she tried to work up the enthusiasm to continue on
.
She felt weary all the way down to the bone and might just have stayed in that chair if the landlord hadn’t told her that he was closing up for the night and did she want a bed?
She had been half tempted to
say yes
but there were no
proper rooms and, while he had been kind enough to offer
her
the
use of
stabl
es or share a bed with
one with one of his
own
lad
s, she had
politely
declined. A
n inquiry had elicited the information that
Steadman Hall was only another five miles on, a matter of an hour on the back of Ulysses
and she had decided to push on
. Of course, it would look very odd, her arriving at such a time but she was sure
Angelique
would forgive her.

Now
, with the additional discomfort of blustery rain,
she was regretting
the absence of those
stables
, which would have at least been reasonably warm. Certainly, the night had turned very
cold and she was beginning to shiver.

‘Where the devil
is
it Ulysses?’ she said, thoroughly exasperated. They were moving even more slowly now for the darkness lay thick beneath the trees
, the
scudding clouds overhead blocking out the moonlight that had helped them so far
. It was only by the merest good fortune that she saw the stone gatep
ost on her left for the
clouds parted briefly, allowing a
solitary
shaft of fragile moonlight through.
Caprice
gave a
small huff
of relief and headed towards the
open gates before the light
disappeared once more. Ulysses’ hooves suddenly began to make the clop, clop noise that indicated they were walking on a flag stone driveway
, leaving the beaten earth road behind
.
Yes
! Such a driveway could only belong to an estate and the estate could only be Steadman Hall
for the landlord of the
Merry Maiden
had told her there was nothing else around the estate for some miles
.
This
had
to be her destination.
She resisted the urge to break into a canter. Ulysses was tired although the horse, as if sensing a bed for the night, hurried along himself.

T
he looming bulk of a large building
appeared as they rounded a curve in the driveway. It was in darkness, except for what looked lik
e a single lamp that burned on
the ground floor
, the small, soft light shining through a window
. They must retire early in these parts, she thought doubtfully. Unless it was later than she thought. Who could say how long she had been wandering the
roads and, one or twice, more obscure
laneways, looking for
the place?
It might have been hours. It certainly felt as if it had been hours. She considered what to do next.
She could wake the household by knocking
, although that seemed
like a rather rude thing to do
when everybody was so clearly abed. Most households kept country hours. Just because her own parents were night owls who did not retire until well after midnight did not mean that everybody did the same thing. So, instead of climbing down off Ulysses and causing a commoti
on on the front steps, she decided to
go around back and find the stables. See to Ulysses herself. Then she could slip into the house – if a door had been left open – and perhaps find a servant who was still awake. If she could just secure a bedchamber for the night then she cou
ld explain the situation to her poor
Angelique
in the morning.
Her friend was used to
Caprice
’s occasional peculiarities but she did not want the viscount to take a dislike to her. It was always so uncomfortable if one was not approved of.
Angelique
would probably chide her for not waking her up, but the peculiar air of closeness that hung about the house convinced
Caprice
that causing a fuss with her late arrival was not the thing to do.

Stables, fortunately, were more or less the same in any large household and this one was no different. She found a lamp just inside the door of the main block and lit it, trimming the wick carefully before leading her tired horse inside. If the place looked a little shabby in the
lamplight, she shrugged it off. Not everybody care
d
for the st
ables as much as she did and it was a large building as befitted such an estate, the tack room and stalls
adequate, if in need of s
ome repairs. There were three
horse
s
in
side already
,
heads turning to regard the new arrival with sleepy interest. A large grey stallion
snickered a greeting when they walked in. Ulysses, who was often restive in strange surroundings and with strange horses, was too tired to make a fuss and
actually snickered a reply
.

‘There now,’
Caprice
murmured, wondering why there
were
only
three horses when she would have anticipated at least five or six. In the city, three would have been adequate but in the country an estate
would be
likely to run several
carriages
along with mounts for those pleasurable rides that were so much a part of country life. S
he would have expected
more
but
the grey
that had greeted them
was
certainly
an impressive looking creature, well fed,
well bred
and with the graceful, arching neck of a fine hunter, not unlike Ulysses
.
Holding the lamp up, she studied what was clearly a matching pair of bays. Nice, but showy and not of the same quality of the grey. At least, that was her initial impression. She might find that she was wrong on closer inspection.

Not that there will be any need for me to inspect my host’s horseflesh
, she reminded herself wryly. It was possible her mother was right; she needed to spend less time in the stables and more time in the drawing room for she was turning into a complete and utter tomboy. She turned back to Ulysses.

‘How nice for you,’ she murmur
ed as she began to remove hi
s s
addle and set
the bandbox on a shelf,
‘company for the night. I expect y
ou
to
behave as a good guest should, now. I know how you like to squabble with other boys but we’re going to be on our best behaviour, right?
It’ll be nice to have somebody in beside you. Just like home.
’

She often spoke to him so while she rubbed him down after a ride. He seemed to find their conversations as satisfactory as she did. After settling him in the stall next to the grey, she
went in search of food for him; not too much, as he had enjoyed some hay at the
Merry Maiden
, but enough to make him feel sleepy and contented
. There was food, although it was a little damp
(also surprising
as
Angelique
had l
ed her to believe that Viscount Ellington
was an affluent man
) but she dug down
deep
and bro
ught up
oats at the bottom. When Ulysses was settled to her satisfactio
n she
headed towards the house, carrying the lantern with her.

At the rear of the building t
here were a variety of
doors to cho
o
se from
leading to various places such as the scullery, washrooms and even the kitchen
itself
.
No lights burnt at the
back
of the house
and she was grateful for the lantern for without it, it would have been as dark as the earl of hell’s waistcoat
and she would have undoubtedly have walked into something
. The first door she tried was locked but the second opened obediently and she sighed her relief. Now all she had to do was find some maid or the suchlike –
trying not to scare the poor girl
silly with her unexpected arrival – and find a bed. With the prospect so close, she was reminded again of how very tired she was.
At least she would not be lying awake until all hours, worried about how she
was
going to explain her arrival on the morrow. She would undoubtedly be asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.