Marigold Chain (2 page)

But she had
reckoned without the ingenuity of the blue-coated rider. He could
have had no warning but he put the split second he did have to good
use. Making no attempt to alter his direction, he rode on, allowing
his horse’s forelegs to miss Tom by inches whilst leaning down to
swoop on the child and hoist him clear of the ground by means of
his stout collar.

Sick with
relief, the girl closed her eyes and let her head fall on to her
arms. When she looked up again, all four horsemen were trotting
back towards her with Tom perched high in the grip of his rescuer
and chattering away with all the blissful unconcern of the very
young.

‘
I’m not
frit,’ he announced boastfully. ‘I like horses. Please can I have
it to hold?’

The man
laughed. ‘Well, if you’re sure you’re not frit …’ And he handed the
reins into Tom’s inexpert grasp. ‘His name is Caesar. If you want
to be his friend you should talk to him.’

Obediently, Tom
transferred the dangerously slackened reins into one chubby fist
and patted the gleaming black neck. ‘Hello, Caesar. I’m Tom.’

And the man
laughed again. It was a curiously infectious sound and, looking up,
the girl received a confused impression of long, lightly-curling
black hair and a pale, fine-boned face alight with amusement. Then
she realised that one of the party had dismounted and was offering
his hand.

‘
Let me
help you,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘You’ve had a nasty
shock.’

She glanced up
and liked what she saw. Fair hair framed a face set with
intelligent dark grey eyes and a firm mouth, oddly at variance with
his languid tone.

She nodded.
‘Yes. I – I thought he was going to be killed.’

‘
Which he
very nearly was,’ remarked a cool, pleasant voice. But perhaps
you’ll take better care in future.’ The blue-coated gentleman had
ridden up and was passing Tom down to her.

Too surprised
to reply, she took the child without a word.

‘
Crowie,
did you see? I rode on the big horse. I rode it
myself
!’

She held him
tight and managed a weak smile. ‘Yes. Yes, I saw.’

Tom inspected
her with interest. ‘Was you frit, Crowie? I wasn’t.’

‘
Of
course you weren’t. And now I daresay you’d like to ride my Bess,
wouldn’t you?’ It was Daniel who spoke; red-haired, freckled and
grinning with cheerful sympathy.

‘
Yes – oh
yes!’ cried Tom. ‘Put me down, Crowie. I’m too big to be
held.’

She shook her
head. ‘I don’t think --’

‘
But I
want to!’

He wriggled so
much that she had to release him but directed a rueful smile at
Daniel.

‘
It’s
simply that I would prefer he didn’t think he has only to court
death under the hooves of a horse in order to be offered a ride on
it.’

He laughed.
‘Don’t worry – I’ll talk to him. And by the time you’ve stopped
shaking, we’ll be back. Here, Giles – toss him up.’

With a
half-mocking lift of his brows, the fair-haired man lifted Tom and
swung him up in front of Daniel.

‘
He’ll be
quite safe, you know,’ he told the girl as she watched them canter
away. ‘And it’s better that he should see this as an adventure
rather than have nightmares.’

She considered
this. ‘Yes. I daresay you’re right.’

Then, a little
reluctantly, she turned to Tom’s saviour and found herself impaled
on a pair of curiously light blue eyes … like polished steel
over-laid by the merest sliver of aquamarine and rendered all the
more striking by the dark lashes framing them. They rested on her
with a glint of satire and a strange intensity that, just for an
instant, made her forget to breathe.

‘
Oh,’ she
thought. He was probably the best-looking man she had ever seen -
and possibly the most intimidating.

‘
Well,
Mistress?’ The charming voice was edged with impatience.

Acutely aware
that her hair was straying in all directions and her gown and cloak
adorned with fragments of mud and twig, she felt the blood rise to
her skin and set her teeth, lifting her chin stubbornly.

‘
I wished
to thank you, sir,’ she said carefully. ‘Had you not been so
quick-thinking, Tom could have been badly hurt or even killed. I –
I’m very grateful to you.’

‘
Yes,’
came the bland reply. ‘You should be. As a nursemaid, I wouldn’t
say you are a roaring success, would you?’

‘
Short of
chaining him to her wrist,’ objected the fair gentleman, ‘it’s
difficult to see what she could have done.’

But the girl
had recovered her composure and needed neither defence nor to
explain herself. Brown eyes resting kindly on her mentor, she said,
‘Don’t worry. I understand perfectly. It gave you a fright as well
and you’re not quite yourself yet.’

The blue gaze
widened a little and, glancing round, the gentleman surprised a
grin on the face of his soldier companion seated patiently some few
paces behind.

‘
You hear
that, Matt? My nerves are all to pieces.’

‘
That’ll
be the day,’ grunted Matthew tersely.

The younger man
laughed and turned back to look at the girl. ‘If that remark was
designed to put me in my place, I’m afraid it was wasted,’ he told
her gently.

‘
I can
see that
,
’ she shrugged.
‘But thank you for pointing it out.’

It was perhaps
fortunate that Daniel chose this moment to return and lower Tom to
the ground. The girl took his hand and reminded him to say thank
you. With an engaging smile, the little boy did as he was bidden
and insisted on being lifted up to that he could give each horse a
last pat. Giles bowed elegantly over the girl’s hand and climbed
back into his saddle, while the dark-haired man showed his
impatience by encouraging Caesar to fidget.

‘
Are we
finally ready?’ he asked. ‘Wonderful!’

‘
Oh, shut
up, Alex,’ said Daniel amicably. ‘What’s the hurry?’

‘
The
hurry,’ said Alexander Charles Deveril, crisply, ‘is that I’ve no
mind to allow Caesar to take cold in this wind. The rest of you may
be happy to linger – but I’m going.’

And with that
he wheeled his horse round and was off down the common at a gallop,
leaving the other three to watch with something akin to resignation
and the girl with admiration mixed liberally with disapproval.

‘
G’bye!
G’bye!’ shouted Tom, waving with all his might as they rode away.
And then, ‘Those mens were nice, Crowie – ‘specially the one with
hair like yours.’

She
laughed. ‘Yes,
petit
. Very
nice.’ But in her mind there lingered nothing but the image of a
piece of brilliant horsemanship and a pair of worryingly compelling
ice-blue eyes.

*

Much later that
evening, Mr Deveril faced a very different lady across the meagre
width of her hired parlour and listened whilst she spoke in tones
of calm finality.

‘
I’m
sorry, Alex, really I am – but I’ve made up my mind and there’s
nothing you can say that will make me change it.’

‘
No?
Well, let’s see if I understand you correctly,’ he replied with
equal calm. ‘You’re saying that you intend to marry Graham Marsden
– a man more than twice your age – purely in order to gain social
and financial security. Is that it?’

Lady Sarah
Courtenay eyed him sulkily. ‘Yes. But there’s no need to put it
like that. It sounds horrid.’

‘
Precisely.’

‘
No! It
isn’t at all horrid – it’s perfectly reasonable. David has been
dead for two years now and, even though I like my life the way it
is, it can’t go on. I haven’t any money at all – and I hate being
poor. It’s all very well being a widow if one is a
rich
widow. As things are, I have no
choice but to marry.’ She spread her hands and smiled with artistic
witchery. ‘Surely you see my position. It’s much the same as your
own, after all.’

He did not
reply immediately but simply gazed at her in apparent meditation.
Lady Sarah knew that she was worth looking at and was entirely
aware that the new gown of Lyons silk was an excellent foil for her
silver-gilt curls and the exact cornflower blue of her eyes but
something in Alex’s face made her experience an unfamiliar moment
of doubt.

‘
Well?’
she demanded, tired of the silence. ‘It’s true, isn’t
it?’

‘
Yes,’ he
said slowly, ‘it’s true. I, on the other hand, won’t be putting
myself up for sale.’

‘
Oh! I’m
not!’ An angry flush stained her ladyship’s exquisite cheeks and
her fingers toyed irritably with the sapphire pin at her
breast.

‘
Aren’t
you? Then how would you describe it?’

‘
As – as
a marriage of convenience!’ she retorted defiantly.

He laughed.
‘Yes. I can see how convenient it would be for you. But what does
Marsden get out of it?’

Her brows
arched in astonishment. ‘Why - me. He adores me.’

‘
I see.
And you? Do you adore him?’

This was not
quite how Lady Sarah had planned it but she rose to the occasion.
The cornflower eyes misted and the soft mouth quivered. ‘You are
unkind, Alex. You know how I feel.’

‘
I
thought so, certainly,’ came the deliberate reply. ‘But you’ve got
to admit that it seems somewhat odd that you can marry Marsden, yet
love me.’

Sarah’s brow
cleared as if by magic. She crossed to his side and tucked a hand
through his arm whilst bestowing a dazzling smile upon him.

‘
My dear
one – of course I love you. How can you doubt it? And if I were
rich – or
you
were – why,
there could be no question! But as things are … well, it isn’t as
though you could possibly marry me yourself, is it?’ she asked
reasonably.

‘
Isn’t
it?’ There was a faintly disquieting note in his voice but his face
was unreadable. ‘And what if I were to ask you – now? If I offered
you hand, heart and name, would you give up your fine plans to be
with me?’

She sighed
wistfully and shook her head.

‘
Dearest,
if only I could – but it isn’t possible. You must see that. One
can’t live on air – and we both have expensive tastes. I like
beautiful things and you – well, it can’t be denied that you like
the card table. So there you have it. I need a rich husband - and
you, my sweet, should get a wealthy wife.’

Without
warning, he freed himself from her and dropped into a chair, his
expression openly sardonic.

‘
I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I not
… money more?’ he quipped. ‘If I had a fortune you’d love me
forever - but since I don’t, I’m a luxury you can’t afford. Is that
it?’

A shadow of
annoyance crossed the lovely face and the equally lovely shoulders
shrugged elegantly.

‘
One must
be practical. And provided we are careful, it need make little
difference to us – unless you are determined to be
difficult?’

‘
Difficult, my beautiful one?
I?
But do go on. Exactly how is your marriage to
make no difference?’

Sarah eyed him
with irritable misgiving. There were times when Alex was as
provoking as he was attractive; times when she half-regretted that
she was not yet ready to dispense with his extremely satisfying
attentions. She summoned the aid of her most seductive smile.

‘
Surely
you don’t need to ask? As long as we are … discreet … there’s no
reason why you shouldn’t visit me from time to time,’ she explained
delicately.

He did not
speak for a moment and his face remained impassive.

Then, with
something akin to interest, he asked, ‘Are you serious?’

‘
Of
course. Why not? It’s the perfect solution.’

‘
You
don’t think it’s a bit like eating your cake and having
it?’

She laughed.
‘And if it is? I never saw anything wrong with that. All one needs
is a little ingenuity.’

‘
So it
would seem.’

She looked
searchingly at him in sudden doubt but before she could speak he
went on, pleasantly contemptuous, ‘So. I don’t qualify as a husband
but you’re willing to retain me as your lover; and Marsden, having
no appeal for you apart from his money, is to be given horns. It’s
a charming notion, my dear, and no doubt I should be flattered –
but unfortunately, I’m not. In fact, the only certainty it arouses
in me is the knowledge that you are a bigger whore than I thought.
Not that I’ve anything against whores – quite the opposite! But, as
a general rule, I prefer them honest.’

Eyes snapping
with fury, Sarah leapt up stamping her foot.

‘
How dare
you! How
dare
you speak so to
me!’

Alex looked her
up and down, his face rather pale.

‘
It’s not
very difficult. My only surprise is that you duped me so thoroughly
before – for I never really knew you, did I, Sarah? I never guessed
what a selfish little bitch you really are.’

She controlled
herself with a visible effort.

‘You’re just
jealous. No one speaks to me that way, Alex. And by tomorrow,
you’ll sorry for what you’ve said and be back here on your knees,
apologising.’

His brows rose.
‘I wouldn’t bet on it, if I were you.’