Highest Stakes (18 page)

  "It certainly was for me. I daresay I never should have entertained any notion of the Horse Guard otherwise, but here I am now, a lowly servant of the Crown. I never should have believed I'd make the cut that day. You didn't make it easy, by any means."

  The major grinned, remembering their first meeting at Horse Guard training grounds. "And now you are returned a captain and a hero, by all accounts. Better a captain in the Horse than a major in the infantry, I say."

  "A hero? I question that. I believe 'twas more the hand of Providence, or more accurately, the hand of Major Drake that preserved me at Dettingen."

  "You have no cause for shame. You kept your head about you under fire and displayed remarkable valor for one so green. We are in a like position, you know, to have chosen a military career. As a second son, I am merely
spare to the heir
, as the adage goes. Edmund holds the birthright and all that goes with it. Miserable, ungrateful wretch. He'll inherit all, though not much more than a London townhouse and a manor rebuilt from a crumbling Norman keep. All I have to recommend myself to the world is an old family name. Even that's worth precious nothing without the title. Sorry, ole chap, forgot whom I was addressing," Philip added sheepishly.

  "No offense taken. I am not ashamed of common birth; at least it was on the right side of the blanket, more than a great many sons of noblemen can claim."

  "You have a point there," Philip replied dryly. "But although legitimate, I am the family scapegrace, the proverbial black sheep who has spent the past eight years following an ignominious expulsion from Harrow, doing my wretched best to live
down t
o my family's expectations."

  "But why?"

  "My father, the Earl of Hastings, is a very exacting man," he said bitterly. "After Harrow, he cut me off and effectively washed his hands of me. I lived by little more than my wits for five years until attaining my majority and the meager trust left by my mother. After paying my debts, I purchased a commission. My only remaining alternative was the clergy. Can you picture me a clergyman, Devington?"

"You would have been a veritable disgrace to the cloth."

"Quite so," Philip agreed without shame.

  "But if you truly desired to play the part of scapegrace, you have failed miserably,
Major
."

  "Oh, I wouldn't quite say that; my advancement has not been wholly honorable."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I entered the Horse as a cornet but gained my captaincy by the hand of Lady Luck."

  "Gaming?"

  "I had a good night at the Hazard table, whilst Captain Simpson did not," he remarked dismissively. "But I begin to tire of the soldier's life, Devington. The past two campaigns have hardly proven the adventure I envisaged. 'Tis a hard life and hardly profitable. Now on furlough, I am resolved to scour the London ballrooms to find an heiress and be done with it."

  "
You, scour the ballrooms?" Robert scoffed. "You will surely be i
n good company. London is crawling with half-pay officers seeking a rich wife. Why not accompany me to the country instead? With the coming holidays, the capital will likely be devoid of heiresses anyway."

  "I fail to perceive any advantage in leaving London."

  "Doncaster may actually hold a prospect or two for you. Colonel Childers has three daughters. No doubt a bevy of marriageable ladies of their acquaintance will congregate at Cantley Hall or the surrounding estates for the Christmas season. Though most of 'em can't tell mane from tail, there will no doubt be heiresses among them."

  Robert gestured grandly to their cramped and dingy quarters. "Care to leave all this grandeur and rusticate until we're called back, ole chum? Can't say I couldn't bear the company."

  "'Twill be devilish going with only a for'night's furlough. Pushing hard, it's what, three days? I assume you're riding?"

"My carriage is in repair," Robert said ruefully.

  "It'll be damnably cold riding, too. You'd best elaborate much more on the heiresses, ole boy."

  "At this very moment stands a well-dowered and virtuous heiress, bounteous of charm, pining away for a handsome rogue to sweep her off her feet."

  "Virtuous? That might be laying it a bit thick."

  Recognizing his exercise in futility, Robert snapped smartly to attention. "Right then, I shall see you in a for'night."

  Philip hesitated. "Mayhap I've enough of wine, women, and song… well, mayhap just the song, but what possible diversion can there be in bloody Yorkshire?"

  "Mayhap a bit of racing. Weather permitting, they'll surely have a few training runs in preparation for the spring season."

  Philip considered this for a moment and groaned as he pulled himself heavily from bed. "Allow me an hour, and I'll be in the saddle."

  Surprisingly true to his word, within the hour he was shaved, packed, and swaggering into the stable yard, calling for his mount as the hostler, a grizzled Scotsman of indeterminate age, led out Devington's snorting, jigging, battle-scarred stallion.

  "Son of a beast tried to bite me when I turned me back to the billets! No warning. Just barred his ugly teeth fur the attack! Daemon steed, that 'un!" Nostrils flaring and ears pinned, the gray repeated the offense.

  "He wants another go at it. Be a sport, ole man!" Robert chortled. The indignant Scotsman threw the reins in his face, tromping off to collect the major's horse.

  "I wonder, was it reward or punishment Winthrop had in mind in allowing you to keep that brute?" Drake innocently inquired.

  "He eats only Scotsmen," Robert quipped. "He's actually as fine a horse as I've ever known, truth be told. Were he taller and less battle-scarred, I've no doubt he would have been appropriated for one of the colonels, or perhaps for Cumberland himself. They say he has an eye for horseflesh."

  "He does, indeed, but I daresay the beast's reputation would have put him off."

  "This horse has more heart than any I've ever known. I'd back him against anyone."

  "Thought you weren't a betting man, Devington. Be warned that I might take up your gauntlet when we have the opportunity. Speaking of which, have you at least thought of a decent name for the animal? 'Captain Devington on Nameless Nag' doesn't have much of a ring to it." Drake smirked.

  "I begin to think Mars, the god of war, might suit," Robert replied with a devious grin.

  "The hostler would hardly disagree."

  The sun was cresting the eastern horizon when the two young officers mounted up and set out on the North Road. Travelling for some time in companionable silence, each was lost in his own thoughts. Philip contemplated racing and rich, voluptuous heiresses.

  Robert, conversely, brooded on his next course of action. He
would
offer for Charlotte again. He was resolute, but Sir Garfield was a cunning and ruthless adversary. His mind wrestled with the conundrum of how to win the man over. His expression revealed more of his thoughts than he intended.

  Philip interrupted his cogitations. "You appear as if laboring with a veritable poser."

  Devington didn't answer.

  "At the risk of intruding further into your private world, I surmise that your
unfinished business concerns a lady and your former employer
. Were I not so well acquainted with your noble character, I'd be lief to suspect a dismissal following your seduction of the squire's daughter."

  His companion answered the off-hand remark with a glower. "You pry into matters that don't concern you."

  "Aha!" Drake laughed, unabashed. "I strike dangerously near the mark! Since you are so reticent to share your history, you compel me to follow the leadings of my imagination… and I own a very lively imagination."

  "Lively or lurid?"

  "Guilty as charged! Now, would you care to share your story, or shall I continue my summation based wholly on my deductions?"

  "I fail to understand your interest."

  "Rest assured, my interest is merely a passing fancy, but as you talked me into this infernal ride and have been less than a stimulating conversationalist for the last three hours, I am compelled to entertain myself."

  Robert colored but ignored the remark.

  Philip, purely for diversion, continued his narrative. "Very well, Devington, I shall piece together the facts of this tale you are so loathe to disclose. Pray feel free to interject as you see fit.

  "You have a passion and obvious talent with horses but were passed over for the very position you had been groomed for and were, in essence, given the boot. But rather than taking the easy route and moving on to the Doncaster racing studs, you elected to leave all behind to join the Horse Guard. To what end?

  "Now returned from the campaign, you defy reason by leaving the comfort and pleasures of London to ride all the way to Yorkshire in the dead of winter. No rational man would do such a thing.

  "Evidence plainly indicates you are painfully and wretchedly enamored with some young woman. I surmise, nay
fear
," he amended, "that you intend to sacrifice your blessed bachelorhood at the matrimonial altar."

  "Am I so damnably transparent?"

  "Pitifully so."

  "Well, you haven't all of it right, not by a long shot!" Robert said.

  "No? Would you care to enlighten me?"

  Having bared his soul to no one, Robert was weary of keeping his own counsel. Drake had proven a loyal friend and had even saved his life. He was also a man with broader experience and greater worldliness.

  "It's a long story, Drake."

  His companion shrugged. "It's a long ride, Devington."

  Overcoming his reticence, Robert began his extended history.

  "I was raised on the property of Heathstead Hall in Wortley, an estate owned by Sir Garfield Wallace, the man to whom my father owed his living. His son, Charles, and I grew up together, nearly as brothers. We spent many years of our boyhood riding, hunting the wood, fishing, cavorting, and even shared, or more aptly
tortured
, a tutor, the pious and pinch-faced Mr. Smythe.

  "Sir Garfield's disposition toward me markedly changed, however, after the arrival of his orphaned niece, Charlotte. With his fortune, vast country estate, and children of comparable age, her situation should have been ideal, but this proved far from the case. Although her cousin Charles is an amiable chap, Beatrix is of another mold altogether. Vain, jealous, selfish, and spiteful, she resented Charlotte's arrival from the very beginning, making it clear she regarded her orphaned cousin as an interloper and a charity case."

  "I have known many such women as you describe," Drake said. "I would argue this Beatrix's manner is hardly unexceptional in the circumstance. Your vision may be somewhat clouded, Devington."

  "That may be, but you must perceive what an abominable position this poor girl was placed in."

  "Quite so, that of a completely dependent poor relation, regarded little better than a servant. 'Tis a common enough plight," Drake remarked callously.

  "You have no idea what she suffered living as a mere shadow under her uncle's roof."

  "A pusillanimous miss. I marvel at your taste in women. Between the two, I profess a predilection for the vain and selfish cousin. Assuredly more spirited, at any rate."

  "Charlotte lacking spirit? Then you would be duped as the rest of them. Only by the necessity of her situation has she cultivated meekness, but I know the real girl. I peered into her soul the first day I espied this waif-of-a-thing riding hell-for-leather across the heath."

  "Ah! So finally, the tale piques my interest. Pray continue, Devington."

  "Nearly five years ago, I broke up a brawl between dungencrusted stable lads, and later while out for a training gallop on a misty morning, I unexpectedly encountered one of the same lads virtually flying across the heath. My first thought was to discover the identity of the one who would surely become my adversary on the track, and I was astonished to discover that
he
was a
she
!"

  Robert then explained how Charles had informed him of his orphaned cousin's arrival, and how he began to look for Charlotte on her morning rides. "Whenever the vixen sensed my presence, she would turn tail and run, spurring me all the more to pursue. Mayhap that's what drew me to the girl, but I was bloody well intrigued."

    "Chasing a little hoyden about the countryside a-horseback sounds too exerting for my blood," Drake scoffed. "Were I in your shoes, I should have sought out a plump and sassy dairymaid, most of whom, by contrast, expend their energies in a much more gratifying manner."

  Robert ignored the sardonic remark. "The reward for me was well worth the effort. Unfortunately, Beatrix discovered our assignations and told her father. When he learned of my interest, he sent me to apprentice as a stud groom with John Bartlett in North Yorkshire. I remained there two years; hence, my intimate knowledge of the Northern horseflesh," he added in an aside.

  "What of you and Charlotte?" Drake prompted.

  "We were only fifteen and eighteen when I left, but we made plans to one day marry. When my father passed, I had expectation as well as hope, but Sir Garfield never gave me the first consideration in either case.

  "I sold my father's meager belongings, as well as our livestock, save Ol' Jack. I had less than fifty pounds to my name. Of course my resentment of Sir Garfield only grew with the knowledge that this paltry sum was all my father had to show for a business partnership that garnered another man a fortune and a veritable empire."