Riding In the Sky

by Barbara Cartland

  The Marquis stepped back, pulled the door fully open, and said,

  “I want to speak to you, Seaforth.”

  Lord Seaforth came in and looked at Mark with an expression of animosity.

  At the same time there was a wariness about him, as if he half suspected why they were there.

  “You will pack your boxes and leave with Yvonne within the hour. If you ever set foot in any house of mine again, I will have you arrested on a charge of intent to damage a valuable animal and the suspicion that this might even extend to the murder of human beings!”

  Lord Seaforth gave an exclamation of anger.

  “What you are saying is untrue!” he spluttered. “If you believe that lying harlot – ”

  He got no further because the Marquis was holding up his hand to silence him.

  “I am letting you off lightly in order to avoid a scandal. But make no mistake, Seaforth, you will not in the future be allowed to take part in any recognised race and, unless you resign voluntarily, I shall see that you are thrown out of the Jockey Club, White’s and any other decent Club you may be a member of.”

  The colour left Lord Seaforth’s face and for a moment he was speechless.

  Then, as the Marquis rose to leave the room, he put out his hand, saying,

  “Hugo! Please, Hugo!”

  But it was too late.

  The Marquis, followed by Mark, was already in the corridor and the door had closed behind them.

  Only then did Lord Seaforth put his hand up to his face. He realised that he was not only bankrupt, but also bereft of every friend he had ever had.

  The Marquis walked back the way they had come for a little while in silence.

  Then he said to Mark,

  “I will make excuses for Seaforth’s absence at dinner and for Fifi’s. I think it important that no one except yourself should have any idea of what has occurred and I can only hope in all sincerity that it will never happen again.”

  “I agree with you, my Lord,” Mark said. “But how did my – er – Fifi know what was happening?”

  “I have no idea,” the Marquis replied. “Perhaps she overheard him saying something to Yvonne, but I daresay she will tell us when she feels better.”

  “Is she badly hurt?” Mark asked anxiously.

  “I think he only struck her twice,” the Marquis said, “but he is a strong man and she is small and fragile.”

  “I wish you had let me fight him!” Mark asserted angrily.

  “I have punished him much more effectively than anything you could do physically,” the Marquis observed with satisfaction.

  They had reached Filipa’s room and the Marquis paused as if he considered going in to see how she was. Then, as if he thought that it would be a mistake, he said,

  “Let me know later how Fifi is and if everything is all right. In the meantime we must both change. It would cause comment if we were to be late for dinner.”

  “Yes, of course, my Lord.”

  Mark went into his own bedroom.

  Then he immediately opened the communicating door into Filipa’s.

  He saw that Emily was with her and, when he approached the bed, the maid put up her hand.

  He saw that Filipa was asleep.

  He nodded to show that he understood and then tiptoed back into his own bedroom and started to dress.

  *

  Filipa must have slept for nearly an hour before she was awoken by Emily coming into the room.

  She was carrying a tray on which there was some nourishing soup and also a light salmon soufflé.

  When she opened her eyes, she knew that she felt better.

  Her back hurt when she tried to sit up and she gave a little cry of pain.

  “You’ll feel much better when you’ve had somethin’ to eat,” Emily suggested in a consoling voice.

  Filipa found that she was right.

  The soup was delicious and the soufflé, which seemed light enough to float in the air, was excellent.

  She only wished that she had been able to make one for her father.

  Thinking of her father, she was sure that he had helped her to save Jupiter from being damaged and perhaps killed.

  As Emily took away the tray, she found herself wondering anxiously if the Marquis had prevented Lord Seaforth from doing any more harm.

  Supposing, she worried, that in his anger at losing so much money he put his poisonous drug in the water of all the Marquis’s horses?

  Even more frightening, he might drop it into the Marquis’s wine.

  “I’m goin’ for me supper now, miss,” Emily said, interrupting her thoughts, “but I’ll come back later and make you comfortable for the night. If you wants me while I’m downstairs, ring the bell by the fireplace.”

  “I-I shall be quite – all right,” Filipa said. “I feel much – better now.”

  “I thought you would, miss,” Emily said with satisfaction. “Me mother always said there’s nothin’ like a good meal to take away pain.”

  Filipa smiled and Emily, opening the door, waved her hand.

  It was a friendly gesture, she thought with a smile, but one Emily would not have made had she known that she was a lady rather than a Pretty Horse-Breaker.

  ‘How could I have dreamed – how could I have imagined,’ she asked herself, ‘that such extraordinary events would happen when I came here to help Mark?’

  She could not believe that the same sort of thing occurred in other households.

  Then she reminded herself that only the Marquis would have planned anything so unusual as a party and a Race Meeting for the Pretty Horse-Breakers.

  She could readily understand his admiring them because they rode so well.

  There was a warm feeling of satisfaction in her breast when she remembered that she had beaten Lulu once and been equal with her on a second occasion.

  ‘Papa would have been very proud of me,’ she told herself.

  Then she began to wonder nervously what Mark was doing.

  Would the Marquis remember to look after him tonight as he had last night?

  Perhaps he would think that she was anxious that he would not over-spend so that as a Pretty Horse-Breaker she would get more money out of him.

  It was such a degrading idea that she found herself praying that the Marquis would think nothing of the sort.

  She wanted him to realise that she was genuinely fond of Mark rather than scheming for what she could make out of him.

  Then she felt humiliated because she knew that it was what the Marquis was bound to think.

  She wanted him to admire her for her riding and as a woman as well.

  However, she was sensible enough to laugh at such pretension on her part.

  Why should he concern himself with her?

  She was quite certain that, if he merely raised his little finger, any of the Pretty Horse-Breakers would drop the men they were with and throw themselves into his arms.

  She wondered why Lulu had kissed him when she came down for dinner. He had certainly accepted it with pleasure.

  ‘I should not be here,’ she thought with a sigh.

  Then she remembered that it was to help Mark.

  He had won the one thousand guinea prize and she had won one hundred pounds.

  She thought of how much she could do with her money and what Mark had promised her.

  Yet she knew, if she was honest, that she would find it hard to go back to the loneliness of The Manor.

  There had been so much excitement in the Marquis’s magnificent house, which it would be impossible to forget.

  ‘If only I could take his whole library with me, I would be so happy,’ she thought.

  Then she laughed at the idea.

  The sun was sinking outside and she thought as the sky deepened that she would soon be able to see the first evening star.

  The door opened very quietly and she thought that it must be Emily, but to her surprise it was the Marquis.

  He was looking magnificent,
as he had last night, in his evening clothes.

  As she looked up at him with a smile he said,

  “I did not want to wake you.”

  “I am awake,” Filipa replied, “and, as you can imagine, very curious to know what – happened.”

  She found it hard to say the last word.

  The way she spoke told the Marquis how apprehensive she was.

  He sat down as he had before on the side of the bed.

  “Lord Seaforth and Yvonne have left the house,” he said quietly, “and I am sure that we shall never see them again.”

  “He did not – hurt any of the – horses?”

  “No, your friend Seymour and I saw to that,” the Marquis replied.

  Filipa looked at him wide-eyed and he explained,

  “We found the drug in his bedroom. I have put it in a safe in my room, where no one will be able to touch it. I cannot believe that sort of filth can be acquired easily.”

  “I am glad – so glad!” Filipa murmured, hardly breathing the words. “I was frightened – terribly frightened that he might do – something h-horrible to – you before he left.”

  “You were thinking of me?” the Marquis asked.

  “I-I heard that he – pretended to be your – friend, for what he – could get out of you.”

  “That is one of the penalties of being rich,” the Marquis answered. “It is very difficult to find people who like one only for one’s self.”

  “I am sure that is not true,” Filipa said. “I think anyone would like – you for yourself – but they cannot – help being – envious of all that you – possess.”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “What you say is very flattering,” he said, “and I want to believe it.”

  “I am sure it is true.”

  “If it is where you are concerned,” the Marquis said, “that is very important.”

  There was silence and Filipa looked at him questioningly.

  Then she knew to her surprise that he was feeling for words and considering what he wanted to say to her.

  “What is – it?” she asked.

  She was afraid that either he had discovered who she was or else that Mark was in some sort of trouble.

  “I meant to talk to you some time tonight after dinner or perhaps tomorrow when we went riding,” the Marquis answered.

  “About – what?”

  There was a little tremor in Filipa’s voice that he did not miss.

  “Nothing frightening,” he said with a smile. “Just something that concerns us – you and me, Fifi.”

  She thought with a little wave of relief that it was not something about Mark.

  Some of the worry left her eyes.

  “I have been thinking,” the Marquis said, “that because we have so much in common as regards our horses and Seymour, as you say, has very little money, we should be a little closer to each other than we have managed to be here.”

  “I don’t – understand,” Filipa murmured.

  “What I am saying in a rather roundabout way,” the Marquis said, “is that you need somebody to look after you and give you the right sort of horses to ride and the right jewels to wear. That is something, Fifi, I would very much enjoy.”

  Filipa thought that she could not be hearing him aright.

  Then, as she began to understand something of what he was suggesting, she gave a cry of horror.

  “No – no – of course I cannot – accept – nothing like that!”

  “What you mean is that you will not leave Seymour and I suppose you are in love with him.”

  “I-I cannot leave him,” Filipa agreed.

  “He is very young,” the Marquis said quietly, “and actually I have an idea to suggest to him that would take him abroad.”

  “Take him – abroad?” Filipa echoed rather stupidly, as she then realised.

  She did not understand what the Marquis was saying, except that he was offering her jewels.

  She thought that it must be to compensate her for Lord Seaforth’s behaviour.

  “I will tell you about it another time,” the Marquis said. “I only want to say now that I would like to look after you, protect you from men like Daverton and Seaforth and I think I could make you very happy.”

  Filipa could only stare at him, still not understanding.

  He bent forward unexpectedly, saying,

  “Think about it. There is no hurry.”

  Then, before she realised what he was about to do, his lips were on hers.

  It was something that she had never expected and for a moment she thought that she must be dreaming.

  It was impossible to move, almost impossible to breathe.

  While the Marquis was not touching her with his hands, she felt as if she was held completely captive by his lips.

  It was, although she was not aware of it, a very gentle kiss.

  Yet because she had never been kissed before, to Filipa it was everything that she had expected a kiss would be – and a great deal more.

  She was not frightened, although the Marquis’s lips were hard.

  Yet in a strange way they were beguiling against the softness of her own.

  Then, as if he sensed that she was very inexperienced and innocent, his kiss became more possessive.

  Yet at the same time it was tender.

  As he went on kissing her, Filipa felt something warm, like a shaft of sunshine, move up through her body.

  It went from her heart into her breasts and from there into her throat.

  When it touched her lips and the Marquis’s, there was a light.

  It seemed to ignite them both with an ecstasy that she had never believed possible.

  It was so rapturous, so wonderful and so entirely different from what she had expected that she felt that the Marquis lifted her up into the sky.

  They were part of the stars and the moonlight. Yet the sunshine was still within them.

  Only when she felt that she had reached Paradise itself did the Marquis raise his head.

  She wanted to cry out because he had left her.

  “Now I think you understand,” he said in a voice that was deep and a little unsteady.

  He looked down at her for a long moment, as if to imprint her face and the radiance in her eyes on his mind.

  Then he rose to his feet.

  “Take care of yourself,” he said, “and we will talk about our future tomorrow.”

  It was impossible for Filipa to answer him.

  He left the room as quietly as he had entered it, closing the door gently behind him.

  Only when he had gone did she look out of the window.

  He had given her the whole Universe and Heaven itself and nothing could ever be more wonderful.

  As she lay there thinking of him, she was seeing him as she had first seen him riding on his black stallion on the Racecourse.

  She knew now that she loved him.

  At the same time it was like the darkness creeping slowly over the sky and extinguishing the last glimmer of the sun.

  She realised how hopeless her love was.

  She also understood what he had offered her.

  For some minutes she fought against realising exactly what he had meant.

  Yet, being intelligent, she could not pretend even to herself that she was too ignorant to know the truth.

  He believed her to be a Pretty Horse-Breaker.

  He was offering her, although she was not quite certain what it entailed, what Lord Daverton had offered Lulu and Lord Seaforth Yvonne.

  It was what all the other Pretty Horse-Breakers accepted from the men they partnered on the Racecourse and flirted with in the evening.

  It was then, almost as if somebody stabbed her, that Filipa remembered what Lord Seaforth had called her – a whore!

  That word she did understand and it was as if it was branded on the whiteness of her skin in letters of fire.

  She had been so foolish.

  She had not really understood that the
Pretty Horse-Breakers were not in the party only because they rode so well.

  It was because the men whom they accompanied wanted to make love to them.

  Now that her eyes were open, she could not believe that she could have been so stupid as not to realise this from the very beginning.

  Yet, when Mark asked her to pretend to be a Pretty Horse-Breaker, she had no idea that there were other talents involved in their profession than being a good rider.

  ‘I should have guessed – I should have known,’ she told herself.

  But no one had ever talked of such women in front of her.

  She had supposed that in their own way they were like actresses.

  How could she have guessed that they were actually women who sold themselves for money?

  That was why Lord Daverton had given Lulu a diamond necklace, while Mark had been unable to compete with him because he could not afford to.

  Filipa felt then that she went down into the depths of a special Hell.

  She was humiliated and degraded, no longer herself, but someone unclean.

  How could the Marquis have thought for one moment that she could be to him what Yvonne was to the despicable Lord Seaforth?

  She remembered the words she had heard them saying to each other and how shocked she had been.

  She had turned her face away so that she could not lip-read any more.

  Those were the sort of things that the Marquis, or any other man, might say to her.

  They would have no respect for her as a woman or as her mother’s daughter.

  She wanted to cry out at the whole idea.

  Then she told herself that, because at last she understood, she could not possibly see the Marquis again.

  ‘I have to leave,’ she thought, ‘and the sooner the better.’

  She lay thinking how she could do so.

  Finally, almost as if her mother was helping her, an idea came to her.

  It was agonising to get out of bed.

  But she told herself that what she had to do was far more important than the pain it caused for her to move.

  She opened her wardrobe and found to her relief that her blue gown she had arrived in was still hanging there.

  She had been afraid that Emily might have taken it away to press it.

  ‘I will ride home in it,’ she told herself.

  She shut the wardrobe door and then climbed back into bed because she knew that Emily would come to see her before she went to her own room.