Highest Stakes (4 page)

  Sir Garfield defended his stance. "She carries the Darley blood, top to bottom, proven blood of champions."

  "I confess, Monsieur Le Grand, the blood alone will tell," Lord Gower espoused. "Darley's stallion has produced a prolific number of good runners."

  
"Très bien."
He nodded. "If such is the case, I shall provide the purse you request on the morrow and will make arrangement to take the mare back to France after the races.
Enfin, Messieurs
. My business now complete, I am free to attend most heartily to
plaisir
. A good day to you, Sir Garfield." The party made their bows with great pomp, and the comte and Lord Gower departed.

  "A thousand guineas!" Sir Garfield rubbed his hands gleefully. News of this sale would do more to establish his racing credibility than an entire season of wins.

  "Sir Garfield," Robert began, "I feel compelled to explain my actions. With no sign of Charles, and the race beginning, I was induced to act."

  In his delight of the moment, Sir Garfield had nearly forgotten Devington's act of deception. "'Tis of little consequence. 'Twas a clever and credible fabrication, by the by. Shows a quick wit," he added in grudging approval.

  Perceiving in the baronet's good humor a golden opportunity to pursue his agenda, Robert pressed further. "Sir, as to the fabricated betrothal… I have made no secret of my feelings for Charlotte, and I have reason to believe she reciprocates these sentiments. Though I have little to recommend me, I should do all in my power to care for her. I should desire nothing more in my life than to make this a betrothal in truth."

  "Enough, Devington! We have had this discussion for the final time."

  "But we have never discussed it at all. You have scarce given me the chance."

  "Nor shall I! You are a penniless groom in my employ. My niece is a gentlewoman. There shall never be such a match. Promptly dismiss the notion from your head, lest I dismiss you altogether. You'd better serve yourself to rub down that mare. Come, Charles, I'm famished and in a mood to celebrate. There's food and wine in the pavilions."

  Charles cast Robert an apologetic look but followed his father nonetheless.

  Once more rebuffed and at a loss how else to achieve his goal, Devington directed his attention back to the mare. No sooner having done so, he was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

  "Here, lad. I had a bit of luck on the last race, thanks to you." The trooper carelessly tossed Devington a coin purse. "There's ten guineas within," he volunteered. "Should hold you over for a spell, if you haven't a predilection for whores, gaming, or strong drink," he added the disclaimer. "'Tis but a fraction of my winnings, which before night's end will have completely vanished by all of the aforementioned vice," he said with a raffish smirk.

  "By the by, lad, I caught that last from the overstuffed windbag. I deem you should better serve yourself to seek opportunity elsewhere. The King's Horse could use more crack riders." He threw the remark over his shoulder as he departed, leaving Devington stupefied.

Captain Drake left the dumbfounded youth to amble at a leisurely pace to the paddock reserved for the Hastings stud. He arrived to overhear a second dispute related to the prior race.

  "But, your lordship," the groom pleaded, "'twas surely a fouled sinew led to his defeat. I seen he lost his action right at t'end, round that last bend, I seen it. Knewed he was off right then, I did. He wasn't hisself, on account o' it. But he'll be right as rain in a for'night. Wi' rest and me poultice, 'twill be no time at all. He'll be spankin' ready for Epsom."

  "Shoot him," replied Lord Uxeter dispassionately.

  "Surely ye canna mean it! He'll be right as rain in a for'night," the groom insisted.

  "I've just lost a thousand guineas on him. I said shoot him."

  "But, your lordship!" the groom begged as if for his own life. "Even should he ne'er run another race, surely he be good enough for the breedin' shed."

  "This horse is not good for bloody dog meat," Lord Uxeter spat. "Upon the morrow, you shall present me this stallion's tail as proof you carried out my injunction. Otherwise, Willis, you shall find yourself seeking other employment."

  "'Twas quite the showing today, Edmund," the captain interrupted. "I confess I may also have lost a great deal of money, had I bet it on
you
. Fortunately, I fancied the look of the little gray mare instead. 'Twas a magnificent payoff!"

  "Piss off, Philip." Lord Uxeter spat in his direction and was gone.

  "Ye be best not to goad 'im like that, Master Philip. He be of a murderous mind, he be," the groom warned.

  "Edmund is a sadistic bastard. Now what's this rubbish about shooting the horse?"

  "Ye overheered that, did ye?"

  "Indeed. 'Twould appear a tremendous waste of a fine piece of horseflesh, wouldn't you say, Willis?"

"'Twould indeed, Master Philip. He be no screw, this one."

"So you say?"

"Byerley bred, twice over, he be."

  "The Byerley Turk? I know of the horse. He was taken from a Turkish officer in the siege of Buda. He later served as Colonel Byerley's reconnaissance mount at the Battle of the Boyne. The horse was reputed to have remarkable courage."

  "That 'e was, and later proved a fine runner to boot."

  "Indeed? And this is his grandson, you say, Willis?"

  "Aye."

  "They say 'like begets like.' If it be so, he would be a worthy addition to the King's Horse. As an officer, I have forage allowance for a second mount. Hmm." He circled the horse and ran his hand down the stallion's right foreleg, feeling for heat. The horse shifted in discomfort as his hand touched the base of the cannon bone. He looked up at the groom. "What do you make of his injury?"

  "'Tis naught that a bran poultice and se'nnight o' stall rest won't cure."

  "Then I suggest you seek out some poor, decrepit cart horse with a black tail. Surely someone in Staffordshire can produce such a sad specimen for ten quid." Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the sum in coin.

  "Rest assured o' it, Master Philip," answered the relieved Willis with a toothless grin.

  After having received this news with singular delight, Monsieur Le Grand turned to address his company. "My most distinguished
messieurs
, while having been received with the most pleasing hospitality within your midst, I am regrettably recalled to my purpose.

  "I am come sadly, not for my gratification alone, nor solely for the acquisition of horses for the stud
Royale.
I am come, in truth, as envoy of His Most Christian Majesty, who has agreed after a much grave and extended consideration, to help restore Le Chevalier, the true and rightful king to the throne of England.

  "When thirty years past, Louis XIV provided an army of several thousand French troops, the noble Scots rallied to their rightful king, but there was, I think, a decided lack of English zeal to restore Le Chevalier,
non
? But now you say the English people grow discontent and resentful of the Hanoverian Crown, who would make war with France for his insignificant German electorate."

  Lord Gower replied, "It is our belief, Monsieur Le Grand, that in only a matter of months the English people will rally to the cause. The opportune moment of restoration is soon to present itself. We must be prepared to act."

  "
D'accord
," replied the comte. "His Majesty is prepared to offer a fleet of thirty ships, and the troops numbering ten thousand. It is for this reason, I am come to England, to secure… shall we say… certain guarantees. Every favor of the Crown comes at some price,
non?
And these troops, they must be maintained."

  "Precisely what manner of assurance does His Majesty have in mind?" Lord Gower asked warily.

  "A pittance, as you English would say. Two hundred thousand pounds. An offer most
genereux, oui
?"

  "His Majesty is infinitely benevolent," replied Lord Gower.

  "Then I shall await your answer. All arrangements may be made through our usual friends," said Monsieur Le Grand. "And now I see the commencement of the race." He smiled and indicated the

By six o'clock, the crowds had dispersed in preparation for the Grand Ball to be held on the far end of the race grounds. Though record numbers attended the races earlier in the day, the ball more than doubled that number, drawing those whose interest lay more in social events than in sport. Accommodations were made for all.

  An open-air dance floor and hired fiddlers provided entertainment to the local folk, while luxuriously appointed and brightly lit pavilions served food and wine for the nobility and gentry. A half dozen such structures were erected in a circle surrounding an immense dance floor constructed within the center.

  Having stayed to the last race at Sir Garfield's insistence, the Wallace party was among the last to arrive. Sir Garfield and Charles dragged behind the ladies Wallace, who meandered from one pavilion to the next inspecting, admiring, or criticizing those they passed by.

  Beatrix moved about with an air of studied nonchalance, periodically shielding her eyes with her fan and scanning the crowds for a dark-eyed man in a scarlet coat with blue facings. Once or twice her pulse quickened, but the officer she sought failed to reveal himself.

  Sir Garfield tolerated this circuitous perambulation by keeping his glass perpetually filled. Charles Wallace hung back from his clinging mother and sister to keep company with his cousin Charlotte. They had hardly seen one another since the carriage debacle, and Charles noted that Charlotte appeared even less enamored of the ball than he was.

  "I trust your afternoon was diverting, cousin? I know how extraordinarily fond you are of the races," he said as the pair strolled along behind his twittering mother and sister.

  "I hardly caught more than a glimpse of any of the races," she replied with dismay. "Aunt, in her belief that no decent lady shows her face near the track, scarce let me out of her sight. Did you arrive in time for Rosie's trial? I caught none of it and have been dying to know how she did. Though Uncle appears in exceeding good humor, he has not spoken of it, and I scarce dared to ask."