To Win the Lady (27 page)

‘Miss Georgie?’

‘Georgiana,
yes.’

‘She was riding
that great black stallion, going to the Barley Mow just north of Baldock.’

‘I have just
come from there. The place is in a fair old mull, what with horses and
conveyances of every kind and people filling the streets. It’s impossible to
move. Has my niece really gone there?’

‘Yes, it is one
of the stages for the race.’

‘Has everyone
run mad? She will be trampled underfoot.’

Mrs Thorogood
thought it prudent not to comment on this, though to some extent she was in
agreement.

‘When are you
expecting her back?’

‘Can’t say, Mrs
Bertram; she’ll likely stay until the morning.’

‘All night!’
She grabbed the decanter from the woman’s hand and refilled her glass, spilling
it in her haste. ‘And I suppose it is too much to expect that Fanny has gone
with her?’

‘No, Fanny is
up in her room.’

‘Did no one try
to stop her?’

‘Ma’am, there
ain’t any stopping Miss Georgie when she gets an idea in her head. Fanny
tried...’

Mrs Bertram was
only too well aware of that. ‘What are we to do?’

It was a purely
rhetorical question, but Mrs Thorogood took it at its face value. ‘Shall I make
you some supper, ma’am?’ she asked.

‘No.’ Mrs
Bertram stood up pulled herself up to her full height, diminutive though that
was. ‘I am persuaded that if I want to speak to my niece tonight I shall have to
chase after her. Ask my driver to bring the carriage round to the door again,
if you please.’

‘But it’s dark
now.’

‘So it is.’ Not
for a minute would Harriet Bertram admit that the prospect of riding through
unfamiliar country at night daunted her. She was a soldier’s wife, used to
travelling under difficulties. ‘My driver knows the road and the moon is full.
Now go on, do.’

Before the
housekeeper could obey, they heard the sound of a horse on the gravel and
Harriet flew most indecorously for the door. ‘She’s back; thank the good Lord
for that.’

But when she
flung the front door open and stood on the top step looking down at the rider
who was dismounting her heart fell into her boots. It was not Georgie but
Viscount Dullingham.

He looked up at
her, smiling. ‘Why, this is an unexpected pleasure, ma’am. I had not thought to
see you here.’

‘I came to
visit my niece before leaving for France, my lord.’ She stood aside to allow
him to enter, trying to calm her nerves. Of all the people in the world to
witness her humiliation she would rather it were not Viscount Dullingham. Why,
he was to be Felicity’s father-in-law. That was, if Richard Baverstock would
have her after this. Oh, what a fix she was in! ‘You find us at sixes and
sevens,’ she said, leading the way into the drawing-room and wondering if he
had heard the sound of her carriage being brought to the door. How was she to
get rid of him without being rude? ‘That foolish wager, you know...’

‘Yes, indeed.
Forgive me for arriving so unexpectedly and so late, but I had been sitting at
home thinking about that race and wishing I were nearer to the action. And then
I thought, Why not hack to the Great North Road and see them riding by? I
reckon if my son has the lead by the halfway stage he may very well keep it.
Barbour is too fat and out of condition to maintain an early pace.’

‘Let us hope
so,’ she said politely.

‘I came to ask
Miss Paget if she would care to ride along with me. Where is she, by the way?’

‘I believe you
have missed her, my lord. She left a little while ago.’ There was no mistaking
the sound of her chaise now, and her driver whistling; he at any rate seemed to
be happy about their swift return. ‘I was about to set off back to town myself.
No doubt I shall encounter my niece at Baldock, where I intend to change my
horses.’

‘Will there be
any?’ he enquired mildly.

‘If there
aren’t I shall stay there overnight and proceed in the morning.’ She hoped that
would be possible; she hoped that Georgie would be able to allay her fears and
she could post back to London in time to leave for Dover the following day with
the Colonel.

‘Forgive me,
ma’am, but you seem a little out of sorts. Is anything wrong?’

‘Nothing,
nothing at all, my lord, except disappointment at finding Georgiana not at home
and me not able to spare the time to wait for her here.’

‘Then may I
accompany you in your carriage? You see, Richard has left only the poorest of
nags in the stables and the mount I used to ride here belongs to my nephew. It
is the most uncomfortable I have ever encountered. William never did have an
eye for a good horse.’

How could she
refuse him? And if she was honest with herself she would have to admit that she
was glad of his company. It would be another matter when they reached Baldock
but she didn’t suppose she would have any trouble losing him then. All she
hoped was that Georgiana would be there and would have the answer to her
dilemma. But it was a forlorn hope.

His lordship’s
hack was put in one of the empty stables and one of the remaining grooms
instructed to look after him, and they climbed into the carriage.

‘Go as fast as
you can,’ Mrs Bertram instructed her driver as his lordship handed her up and
got in beside her.

He raised an
eyebrow; there was no doubt the lady was in a high state of agitation, probably
something one of her nieces had done or neglected to do, but he thought it wise
not to enquire. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him in her own good
time. But he hoped the old carriage would stand the strain of being jolted over
the rutted road.

The heath was
bathed in moonlight and there was very little cover except for a few stunted
trees, but Georgie could not help thinking about the hold-up she and Viscount
Dullingham had suffered here, and in broad daylight, too. The body had been
removed, hadn’t it? It wasn’t still lying there, half consumed by grubs and
flies. Where had it been exactly? She could not tell but managed to resist the
temptation to hurry; she did not want to tire Warrior. A nice easy pace would
warm him up ready for the gallop ahead of him.

All the same,
she was glad when she came out on to the narrow lane which would lead her to
the back of the Barley Mow. For two or three miles it ran through a triangle of
wood, which she knew extended from the lane she was on to the Great North Road
itself and was quite dense in places. Here she lost the benefit of the moon and
found herself riding in pitch-darkness.

It would be
catastrophic if Warrior were injured now. She dismounted to lead him, treading
carefully, using every bit of meagre moonlight which filtered down through the
branches of the overhanging trees. She was glad she did, for she almost
stumbled over an overturned cart. A young lad was standing beside it, looking
distraught. She stopped to ask him what had happened, although it seemed
obvious that the vehicle had hit a tree root or something of the sort in the
dark and overturned. Seeing her, he grabbed her arm. ‘Miss, you gotta help. Me
ma...’ He pointed to the cart.

‘She’s trapped
under there? Oh, my goodness.’ She stooped to try and see the woman and
something very heavy struck her on the back of the head.

She recovered
her senses to find herself lying on a truckle-bed in a tiny room lit by a
single candle which stood on a small table in the middle of the floor. She
turned her head and found that it hurt, even more than it had after her fall in
the park. She lay back and shut her eyes again in order to think. But her
thoughts took her nowhere except to the conclusion that someone wanted to
prevent her taking Warrior to Richard.

Where was she?
What had happened to the horse? Who had hit her? The answer which first came to
mind was that it was Lord Barbour, but he must surely be in the middle of the
race and being carefully watched. She felt sure that whoever was responsible
had also been the perpetrator of the accidents at the stables. Richard had said
there might be some skulduggery but she had hardly believed him. Now she was
paying for her carelessness.

After a few
minutes her headache eased a little and she pulled herself into a sitting
position. There was no one else in the room; whoever had put her there did not
think she could escape. Leaving the bed and picking up the candle, she took it
to explore the room. It did not take long; it was only about ten feet square,
furnished with the table, a cupboard, a couple of rickety chairs and the
truckle-bed.

There was a
window, but the shutters to that were fastened on the outside, and there was
only one door. She moved over to it and discovered it was very ill-fitting; she
could see light through a crack. Putting her eye to it, she was able to see a
little of the next room. It was similar to the one she was in except that it
was lit by an oil lamp and had a stove on which there was a pan. She could hear
voices and held her breath as someone moved across her line of vision towards
the stove. It was the boy who had stopped her. He put something from the pan on
to a plate and took it to the table. ‘Here, eat this. It’s all we’ve got.’

She had been expecting
the broad accent of a country child, for that was how he had spoken before and
how he was dressed, but his voice now was cultured and she noticed that his
hands were clean. This was no working child. She wished she could see more, but
the crack in the door was so narrow, her field of vision was severely
restricted. Of one thing she was sure. The only way out was through that room.

What would
Richard do when he arrived at the Barley Mow expecting to find Jem with
Warrior, warmed up, ready for him? Would he hang about hoping a man and horse
would soon arrive or would he carry on to the next stage on the same horse?
Either way his chances of winning the race would be quite spoiled and he would
be decidedly angry with her for letting him down. If she could free herself and
find Warrior, she might find her way through the wood to the road and intercept
him.

She heard the
scraping of a chair on the flags and a shadow blocked her view of the room. She
just had time to return the candle to the table and fling herself back on the
bed, when the door was opened and a man came in carrying a plate and a mug. But
it was not the plate and mug which took her attention, but the man himself. It
was Jem!

He grinned at
her. ‘Awake, I see.’

She sat up.
‘How did you get here?’

‘On a horse, of
course.’ He put the food down on the bed beside her. ‘Best eat that; I know
you’ve had no supper.’

‘What horse?’
she demanded. ‘And how did you get in front of me?’

‘On one of the
spares. Had to gallop it a fair distance and circle round you, but you weren’t
going at any great pace.’

‘If you’ve
harmed it...’

‘I don’t expect
it to be fit for anything for a few days, but it’ll recover.’

‘But why?’

‘Why, Miss
Paget? Now, if you were meaning why did I take a horse from your stables and go
hell for leather to get ahead of you, that’s simple. According to the Major’s
plan and yours too, I was supposed to ride Warrior to the inn. That suited me
fine, but you had to go and change everything, didn’t you? You had to bring the
stallion yourself, so you’ve only yourself to blame for the fix you’re in.’ He
paused and favoured her with a tigerish smile and she wondered how she had ever
come to trust him. ‘On the other hand, if you mean why was I intending to take
possession of Warrior and hide him up until after the race, then that’s another
story.’

‘Where have you
put him?’

‘He’s safe
enough. You have to admit, Miss Paget, whatever I am, I know how to look after
a horse.’

‘And after the
race is over? I assume you did it to prevent the Major winning?’

‘True.’

‘And from that
I infer you have been paid by Lord Barbour.’

‘Oh, he’s only
part of the lay. It goes a great deal deeper than that, Miss Paget, a very
great deal.’

‘What do you
mean?’

He tapped the
side of his nose. ‘There’s some, closer to home than Lord Barbour, as wouldn’t
be averse to seeing Richard Baverstock come a cropper.’

‘I do not
understand.’

‘You do not
need to, not if you’re a good girl and keep out of it. Settle down here and
it’ll soon be over.’

‘I will pay you
generously to let me go on with Warrior as if nothing had happened and I won’t
deliver you up to the law, provided you leave the district.’

‘Very tempting,
Miss Paget, but I know how strapped you are; you could not afford to match his
lordship’s offer. Besides, I’ve put a monkey on the outcome of the race at
fifteen to one and that’s not to be sneezed at.’

‘Where did you
find that much money?’

‘Now that would
be telling, would it not?’ He took out his watch and noted the time. ‘The
contestants will be at the Barley Mow very soon. Who do you think will be the
first away?’