The Heart of a Bluestocking

by Renée Dahlia

  ‘Therefore, be brave. When in a tough situation, sing at the top of your lungs and your fears will fade,’ said Claire. Lady St. George elbowed her in the ribs, and Ravi winced when it connected.

  ‘The luggage is all done now, Dr Carlingford.’ Higgins reminded them of his presence with his simple statement.

  ‘Up you get then, and we’ll be on our way,’ said Claire.

  Ravi grinned at the informal comment towards her footman, and the assumption that her staff should travel beside her. The way she treated all people as equals was so appealing. Officer Wedsley climbed in before the footman, and the two men sat beside him on the rear facing seat.

  ‘And who is this? Your entourage is rather large,’ said Lady St. George.

  ‘Lady St. George, may I introduce Officer Wedsley? He is with the Yard, and is investigating the corruption case that threatens my father. Isn’t that right?’ said Claire. Ravi choked back a laugh at the way Claire framed the case in her favour. Officer Wedsley bowed his head in deference.

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, my Lady,’ said the officer.

  ‘And how is the case progressing? Have you found the villain yet?’ asked Lady St. George.

  ‘Unfortunately not. He is proving to be a slippery fellow, who has sent the Yard down several fruitless avenues during this investigation.’

  ‘One of those being the false arrest of Mr Carlingford,’ said Claire with a fraction of a smirk. Officer Wedsley cleared his throat.

  ‘He laid an effective trap that put us off his scent for some time, yes.’

  ‘You are assuming that the villain is a man?’ asked Lady St. George. Ravi glanced at Higgins who shared his amusement. No wonder Claire and Lady St. George were such close friends.

  Officer Wedsley spluttered. ‘It is not impossible, I suppose. Highly unlikely, however, and I doubt that line of thinking will provide any assistance.’

  ‘I assure you, women are capable of nefarious thoughts,’ said Claire. Ravi held back a grin between closed lips as Officer Wedsley’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘No doubt. One does doubt their ability to concoct a complex scheme such as this, however.’

  ‘Take a care, Officer. None in this carriage would like to see you suffer an injustice due to poor word selection.’ Ravi spoke into the awkward silence as the two friends shared a glance that he couldn’t interpret.

  ‘Everyone knows that women’s brains aren’t capable of complex thought,’ said Lady St. George, a faint smile hovering on her face.

  ‘That’s why it is pointless giving them the vote. They’ll only double their husband’s votes, creating more paper to count for no change in result,’ said Claire, her eyes glinting, and sarcasm dripping off her voice.

  ‘And this whole idea of educating women. What rot. Should we lower the standards to allow them in?’ said Lady St. George.

  ‘It’s a question of capability, after all. We couldn’t possibly risk our hospitals with inferior doctors,’ said Claire.

  Ravi leaned over to Officer Wedsley and whispered, ‘I would stop nodding in agreement if I was you. Take note of their sarcasm.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ asked the officer.

  ‘How far to your abode, Lady St. George?’ asked Higgins loudly.

  Claire laughed. ‘Oh I’m sure you won’t have to suffer us teasing poor Officer Wedsley for much further, Higgins.’

  Ravi let out a slow breath, as Officer Wedsley frowned.

  ‘Do you mean to say that you are suffragettes? That you believe in votes for women and in education?’ said Officer Wedsley. Claire and Lady St. George smiled, slowly, in unison, reminding him of the stable cat toying with a dormouse.

  ‘We are living proof of the value of education, Wedsley. Pray tell, what is your highest level of education?’ said Claire with one eyebrow raised.

  ‘I took an apprenticeship with the Yard when I was sixteen. My education has been ongoing since then,’ he said.

  ‘University?’ asked Lady St. George with an air of innocence that made Ravi shake his head at the way they played with Officer Wedsley.

  ‘No. The Yard’s resources don’t stretch to that.’

  ‘That truly is a shame,’ said Claire.

  Lady St. George smiled. ‘Here we are. Welcome. Remind me to show you my medical degree from the Municipal University of Amsterdam later this evening, Officer Wedsley.’ The carriage turned through a smart set of gates, and the pair trotted along a pleasant driveway lined with oaks. Silence descended over the carriage for the final minutes of their journey until they pulled up outside a lovely manor house. Higgins alighted, and held the door open for Lady St. George and Claire. Ravi waved to Officer Wedsley before stepping down to stand beside Claire.

  ‘Might I remind you that we require him as an ally?’ he whispered.

  She sighed. ‘I know. And I know I shouldn’t let myself be baited into that type of conversation.’

  The carriage rolled away, wheels crunching on the gravel driveway.

  ‘Officer Wedsley, please excuse our fun, and welcome to Newmarket. You are most welcome here, anyone who assists my good friend Dr Carlingford is a friend of mine. Please make yourself at home. Our butler Munroe will show you to your room,’ said Lady St. George. She waved towards the front door, and the group entered her house.

  It was over an hour later when Ravi joined Claire and her friends in their drawing room. A tall man with a military air and an ugly scar down one cheek stood up and walked towards him with his hand outstretched. Ravi shook his hand.

  ‘You must be Mr Howick. I’m Lord St. George. Welcome,’ he said.

  Ravi nodded. ‘Thank you. This is a lovely house you have.’

  ‘My father purchased it for the farm, actually, but the prior owner had put considerable effort into his own comfort, so the house needed only minor refurbishment when Lady St. George and I took over earlier this year.’ Lord St. George waved in the direction of Claire and Lady St. George who were seated together on a chaise lounge.

  ‘Call me Josephine,’ said Lady St. George. ‘And do take a seat. Make yourself comfortable. Would you like some tea?’

  ‘Thank you. That would be lovely, Lady St. George. Wedsley hasn’t joined us yet?’ asked Ravi as he sat down.

  ‘Please call me Josephine, and I’m sure Lord St. George would prefer Nicholas. There is no need for titles among friends.’

  ‘That courtesy is most appreciated. I take it Claire has outlined why we are here?’

  ‘More than just the joy of our company? You have some issue with a bookmaker?’ said Nicholas.

  ‘I suppose that is technically correct. Do you want me to wait until Wedsley arrives?’

  ‘No, I want Nicholas up to speed before then,’ said Claire.

  Ravi nodded. ‘Quite simply, there was a betting scam performed on the Bank Holiday weekend—’ he started.

  Nicholas nodded. ‘An excellent choice of date if one was to do such a thing.’

  ‘Yes, well, this one was well-planned. A Hunt Club was invented from thin air, Swainright, and race day fields were sent to the major newspapers. Naturally, the bookmakers took bets on the meeting, and paid out when results were published. A minor error in the results led to a couple of the bookmakers querying the result.’

  ‘Let me guess. When they went looking, they found nothing,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How much did they lose?’

  ‘Officer Wedsley hasn’t released that detail to us.’ Claire threw her hands in the air.

  ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have teased the poor man,’ said Ravi with a grin.

  ‘The poor man …’ She let out a humph. ‘Might I remind you that he arrested my father on spurious charges?’

  ‘And precisely how did you become involved, Mr Howick?’ asked Nicholas.

  ‘I am legal counsel for Carlingford Enterprises. After Wedsley arrested Mr Carlingford, it was a rather simple legal matter to prove that Wedsley had pre-empted the process and overstepped the bounds of his
office,’ said Ravi.

  ‘Why did you bring him here?’ said Josephine.

  ‘Do you know the reason he chose Mr Carlingford as the culprit?’ Nicholas spoke at the same time as his wife, and they shared a quick glance and a smile. The simple connection between them sent a short jab of jealously across Ravi’s chest.

  ‘A piece of Carlingford Enterprises billhead paper was used to send the results telegraph,’ said Claire.

  ‘Oh, that is damning evidence,’ said Josephine. She reached over and laid her hand on the back of Claire’s hand. The door creaked. Officer Wedsley stood in the doorway, his face impassive.

  ‘Not precisely,’ said Ravi. The weight of everyone’s intense gaze pinned him. ‘The paper only tells Officer Wedsley—’ He nodded towards the officer who stood quietly still, ‘—that the culprit had, at one moment in time, access to the paper. There are many possible options for people who may have been in Mr Carlingford’s office, and taken a single sheet of paper.’

  ‘Of course. Hence why you wish to investigate from the bookies end of the problem,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘We hope that they also have done some legwork to recover the debt,’ said Claire.

  ‘That would depend on the size of the loss. Bookies often write off debt as part of their business. However, there is a good chance that they would get a clerk to follow up if they paid out a large enough amount,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘So where do we start?’ asked Claire. She sat perched on the edge of the chaise lounge, half facing Nicholas. Ravi tightened his arm against his side at the ridiculous urge to reach out and save her from the unlikely chance that she might fall.

  ‘Ideally you need a list of the bookmakers who were hardest hit financially. Officer?’

  ‘The official complaints were made by Hickman, and Drake.’

  ‘London based bookies? They may not know enough. Probably the best place to start is with Jack Sutton. He’s the largest bookie in these parts, and he has ears everywhere in this game,’ said Nicholas.

  ‘Yes, if he doesn’t know, no-one will,’ said Josephine. ‘The racing world isn’t that big, and there are no secrets among us.’

  ‘That’s not what I understood,’ said Officer Wedsley.

  Ravi blinked at the intrusion. The officer contained himself in such silence that Ravi almost forgot that he was there.

  ‘Oh, people like to think they have special knowledge, but it’s difficult to hide a good horse when they all work on public ground every morning,’ said Josephine.

  Nicholas nodded. ‘And the bookies are the ones with the most to lose when someone beats the system, so they have watchers at the workouts every morning, and ears in all the stables.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ said Claire.

  Ravi leaned back in his seat and sipped his tea. The banter between these friends was rapid paced, and they also communicated with glances, which added to his sense of being an interloper, an outsider to their group.

  ‘When can we meet this Jack Sutton you mention?’ he asked.

  ‘I have taken the liberty of inviting him to dine with us this evening,’ said Josephine. She leaned towards Claire and whispered something that made Claire grin.

  Claire rolled her eyes. ‘You and Marie are just the same.’

  Chapter 19

  ‘What, pregnant?’ Josephine whispered.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Claire half stood up in exclamation at Josephine’s news. ‘But—’

  ‘I know.’ Josephine clutched Claire’s hand and looked around the room.

  ‘Shall we retreat to another room, and discuss this in private?’ whispered Claire. Josephine nodded. Together they stood, and Josephine left the room so quickly that Claire blinked.

  ‘My apologies. We just need to, ahh, go over there for a while,’ she said. Nicholas leapt to his feet.

  ‘What did you say to her?’

  ‘Calm down, Nic. It’s nothing much, just, um, women’s business.’ She waved her hands in front of her in the general gesture of don’t worry about it.

  ‘That’s fine.’ Nicholas sat down again. ‘Josephine needs someone like you to talk to.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Claire couldn’t stop the sarcasm in her voice, even though she knew that Nicholas had his wife’s best interests at heart. ‘You just stay here and solve the minor issue of my father’s false arrest for fraud.’ She spun on her heels with her dress swirling in the air, and left the room.

  ‘Josephine. Wait,’ she called down the hallway. These country manors and their ridiculous hallways! Josephine looked back over her shoulder, and smiled a grim, taut smile.

  ‘Let’s go in here.’ She pushed open the door, and Claire followed her into a small sitting room with a gorgeous outlook over the garden and fields beyond. A herd of young horses stood together under a tree, tails flicking at each other in the summer afternoon sunshine.

  Josephine grabbed her hand and squeezed it. ‘I’m scared.’ A tear sat fat and heavy at the corner of Josephine’s eye. Claire reached up with her other hand and brushed it away.

  ‘How far along are you?’

  ‘As you know, it’s almost impossible to know precisely, but I guess about twelve weeks,’ said Josephine quietly.

  ‘You do realise that is a consequence of marital relations?’ Claire bit her tongue. Why did she always say crazy inappropriate things?

  Josephine grinned.

  ‘That’s the Claire I love. Always saying the right thing to stop me worrying.’

  ‘What is there to worry about? The chance of your dying is only one in a hundred.’

  ‘Even outsiders win occasionally. And what if I’m just like my mother, and my baby has to grow up without me. And Nic—’

  ‘Hold it there. You read too many gothic novels. The three of us have all the up to date training. I’ve just successfully delivered twins, for crying out loud! We will use Lister’s methods—you won’t get childbed fever—and that’s the most common reason for a poor outcome.’

  ‘I know all that. But it doesn’t stop me being scared.’ Josephine reached for Claire’s hand, and Claire gave Josephine a gentle squeeze. She pulled her hand away, waving it in the air.

  ‘Why, then? Why do it? You know all the risk is with us, the woman. Why put yourself at risk? Why face this fear?’ All Claire’s old worries, brought to the fore by those kisses with Ravi, galloped out of her mouth. She rolled her neck on her shoulders, cracking it as she tried to rid herself of the built up tension, but her breath just became shallower as she waited for Josephine to answer. Her friend dashed a tear away with the back her hand, and reached out to hold Claire’s hands carefully.

  ‘Because it is worth it for everything else. To be loved for who you are, to not be put in a box by society, but supported by someone who knows you and wants you for everything you are. That’s why it’s worth the risks.’

  ‘Because the benefits make it worthwhile?’ Claire sneered, an echo to Ravi’s comment yesterday, as Josephine gushed about her loving marriage. Not everyone would be so lucky, and yes, she acknowledged her jealously, an undercurrent to the deep happiness that she typically felt for Josephine’s marriage. To find Nicholas who supported her, championed her, loved her, was a treasure to be held with great respect. That didn’t stop that tense tingle of envy for her own situation.

  ‘Claire, my gorgeous, bold friend. You obviously trust him. Stop thinking and take the leap.’

  Claire sucked in her bottom lip. ‘I do trust him. But I don’t know why.’

  ‘Isn’t that the definition of trust?’ Josephine laughed. ‘Plus, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Claire paused, as a rush of memories sped through her head. A cascade of moments of shared glances, and longing gazes. She blinked, not ready to face the reality of that montage. ‘That’s just because—’

  ‘Do you hesitate because he’s not English?’ asked Josephine.

  Claire frowned and shook her head. Hold on, what? The comment crashed against the images in her mi
nd like a steam train coming into a station too quickly; steel screaming against steel. Her mouth dropped open, but no words came out. He is English. And more.

  Josephine continued on, seemingly unaware of Claire’s reaction. ‘Because there is a saying in horseracing. People get caught up in bloodlines and pedigrees, but there is one truth that underlies everything. A horse doesn’t know who its parents are. It performs and is judged on its own character.’

  ‘You are saying I should judge him on his character.’ The sarcasm dripped off her tongue at her friend’s analogy that brushed over the underlying belief that Ravi was somehow less because he didn’t look English. She gripped the arm of the chair, her fingers tight against the wood.

  ‘No, judge him on his trust and his kisses,’ said Josephine with a smile.

  Claire blinked once, a slow stunned flap. That wasn’t what she expected at all. Heat flamed on her cheeks as memories of Ravi’s kisses flooded her brain.

  Josephine giggled. ‘And it would seem that his kisses are indeed worthwhile. He has that look about him.’

  ‘What look?’ Claire was still wary.

  ‘Of someone who can kiss. And he plainly adores you.’ Josephine paused. ‘I want you to be happy, satisfied in life, Claire, and having a loving partner is hugely satisfying. We can help you overcome any difficulties.’

  ‘That’s enough of that.’ Claire almost shouted, then took a sharp breath as rage filled her head with heat. She stood tall, clomping one foot loudly on the floorboards. ‘Ravi isn’t a difficulty to overcome. He might not look like your version of what is English, but his father was Lord Dalhinge, a title now held by his older brother. He’s as English as you, and more English than me.’ Claire threw out the words with vehemence.

  ‘My apologies. It’s just that he looks …’

  ‘His mother is an Indian princess, a maharani, but as you say, why not judge him on his character, not his royal blood?’

  ‘Oh. I didn’t realise.’

  ‘No, you just see his colouring and make assumptions. He graduated in law with honours. He has no need to prove himself to anyone.’ Claire stood up with her hands on her hips. ‘And quite frankly, I expect better from my friends.’ She turned to go, but Josephine grabbed her wrist.