The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley

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The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley Page 18

by Aileen Fish


  “If Lady Joanna doesn’t marry you, she must marry Sir Frederick, you’ve said. Surely you can’t be the lesser of the two options.”

  “At least I was able to resolve that problem. I agreed to buy Patriot for an amount that will allow Northcotte to pay off Sir Frederick.”

  Knightwick offered him a wry grin. “Well, that resolves one of our problems, too. We can’t enter two horses we own against each other, so we can improve Triton’s chances of winning.”

  “No, we can’t. I thought to gift Lady Joanna with the horse after our wedding.”

  “You plan to bribe her to marry you? I don’t see how that will improve her feelings toward you.”

  “No. I’ll give her the horse outright. It won’t make up for what I put her through, but it’s rightfully hers.”

  Knightwick studied him long enough that David grew uncomfortable and looked away. His brother said, “I can’t say anything you’ve ever done in the past has made me less than proud, but at this moment, I’m quite pleased to call you brother.”

  Try though he might, David couldn’t bring himself to smile. He was not proud of finally doing the right thing for Lady Joanna. He wished he’d chosen that path from the start. “I need to tell Father what I’ve done, even though I used my own funds to pay Northcotte. I’d hate for Father to hear of this through someone else.”

  Going in search of his father, David found him in his study, not at his desk, but in a chair near the window looking out toward the paddock. David hesitated at the doorway. “May I come in?”

  Father didn’t shift his gaze from the window. “Of course.”

  “The household is bustling with preparations for the wedding. Mother has the girls tying posies, and Trey and Sam carrying vases too large for the maids to handle.”

  “She should let the footmen do that.”

  “They’re busy with other errands. I believe Mother would move the entire drawing room out under the canvas she has set up, if she could.”

  Father didn’t comment. David sat in a nearby chair and mentally tossed a coin as to how to begin. “I must tell you some news that might upset you. But you’ve a right to know.”

  “I’m sure you’ve done the right thing, son, whatever it is.”

  “The situation is a bit complicated. I made an offer for Lady Joanna Hurst’s hand.”

  His father blinked, then turned to study him, his expression unreadable. “Northcotte’s girl.”

  “Yes. His son is the earl now, if you’ll recall.”

  “I think your mother mentioned that, once.”

  David waited, hoping he had more to say. After a minute or two of silence, he pressed on. “In the course of the discussion with Northcotte, I offered to buy Patriot.”

  “He’ll be a fine addition to the stud. I’m surprised Northcotte agreed to part with him. I hope you didn’t pay too much.”

  David shook his head, then realized his father was not looking his way. “The price was fair, and my reasons for purchasing him were sound.”

  “That’s fine, then.”

  “I’m not keeping him, though. I’m giving him to Lady Joanna.”

  Father shifted in his chair, sitting up straighter, placing his palms on his knees. “Ah, I see. A wedding gift. Not the usual sort of gift one might think of, but probably fitting.”

  “She refused my proposal. However, I’m still giving her the horse. I…uh, I’ve done some things of which I’m not proud, Father. While I was getting to know Lady Joanna, I was also seeking evidence against her brother in the poisonings at the race meetings.”

  His father’s frown said as much as his words could. Before the man could comment, David pushed on. “It was poorly done of me, and I regret it, and I deserved her refusal. Her hatred.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised to hear you pursued Northcotte, after the way his father and I behaved.”

  David cleared his throat and wiped his damp palms on his breeches. “Would you care to tell me what happened? You’ve been cold toward each other for as long as I can remember.”

  “It goes back before either you or Knightwick were born. We were friendly enough in Cambridge until it came to sports. He had a passion for winning. Well, more of an obsession, I’d say. When a group of us would ride home on holiday, he’d challenge anyone who’d accept. Point out a landmark in the distance and off we’d go. Eventually, we were laying down bets on the winner.”

  All the starch went out of Father as he sighed. “Obviously, we continued to compete after we left university, and each began filling our stables with quality runners. Yet Northcotte was not willing to leave the competitiveness with the horses. When he learned I intended to offer for your mother’s hand, he became determined to win her away from me.”

  “He made an offer to Grandfather?”

  Father nodded. “My family and hers were already friends, so I had the edge there, but your grandfather asked your mother whom she preferred.”

  “Well, thank goodness she chose you.”

  “Northcotte couldn’t stand to lose. He vowed to break me. The only avenue he had left was his horses.”

  To some little extent, David understood how a man could go mad over his runners, but not to the point of destroying a perfectly good animal. “So when Zephyr began to win, he had to remove the competition one way or another.”

  “That’s what I assumed.” Father said. “But we never found any proof.”

  David had a sudden thought. “Was there anyone else at that time that was angry with you?”

  Father’s jaw shifted back and forth briefly before he responded. “There were always losing bettors who might wish for a horse to quit running. And the losing owners, of course. Most of them took the losses good-naturedly, though. They knew their horses would have another chance at Zephyr at the next race meeting.”

  “What about away from the horses? Anyone with an old grudge? A tenant who might have been forced to remove from the estate?”

  “I’ve never evicted a tenant, and neither did my father. As far as I know, they’re all happy to live in Bridgethorpe.”

  Shaking his head, David tried to think of any other situation that might have angered someone enough to kill Zephyr.

  “Why all of these questions about Northcotte and Zephyr? It happened so long ago. There’s no point dwelling on it.”

  “You don’t think there’s a connection to Venus and Bacchus becoming ill at the meeting last year?”

  “I thought they attributed that to moldy hay in the course stables.”

  “Wouldn’t more horses have gotten sick, if that were the case? I can’t help but connect the two, especially after one of Northcotte’s grooms died at Newmarket.”

  Father breathed loudly and appeared to sag in his chair. “If you have proof, speak to the constable. If you have suspicions, I question why you wanted to tie yourself with Northcotte’s family.”

  “My suspicions were misdirected. Since I met with Northcotte before leaving Town, I can’t imagine him capable of such deeds.” David couldn’t admit his obsession had been based on the desire to please his father. As he studied the man, he noticed how the left side of his face seemed slightly slack, and his left hand was curled hard into a first. He’d lost weight, judging from the hollows in his cheeks. He looked ten years older than the last time David had seen him.

  He couldn’t imagine losing a horse could have done this to his father. Bridgethorpe’s melancholy might have brought on some other illness. “Are you unwell, Father?”

  Shifting in his seat, his father glanced at him, his right eyebrow raised. “My health is unchanged from yesterday.”

  That didn’t answer his question. “You would tell me if there was reason for concern, wouldn’t you?”

  “There’s no reason for you children to worry about an old man.”

  “You aren’t that old. And it’s natural for us to worry. We love you, Father.”

  His father smiled, although his smile was unbalanced. “I love you, too, s
on.”

  David forced the worry from his thoughts. “Triton is doing well. He wins as many as he loses, if not more.” He didn’t add that the only horse he lost to was Northcotte’s Patriot. No need to mention that, after admitting he’d bought the horse and was giving him away.

  “That’s fine. You’ve done well with your program. I’m happy for you.” He didn’t look happy. He looked spent.

  “You should come to a race meeting. It would cheer you to watch him win. We can go to the Chester Meeting, as it’s so close. Or come stay at Fernleigh for the October meeting in Newmarket.”

  “Perhaps. We shall see how I’m faring when the time comes.”

  David was defeated. Those words had been spoken so many times over the past five or sis years, but his father never fared any better. “I’ll look forward to it. I’d better not sit here any longer, or Mother will find me. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Thank you for telling me what you’ve been up to.”

  “You’re welcome, sir.” Rising, David left the room. He should have been relieved at having that burden off his chest, yet he felt a full stone heavier than when he’d entered the room. The man he remembered no longer existed. Even though David had admitted he no longer blamed Northcotte or his father for their problems, he felt he’d failed his father by not finding the culprit.

  The morning of Stephen’s wedding dawned gray and gloomy, but brightened by the time the entire clan reached the church in the village. David and Knightwick waited with Stephen for Lady Jane Marwick and her family to arrive. As both families were prominent and well thought of in the area, the pews were filled with their neighbors, the ladies in their gayest bonnets, and children defied their parents’ attempt to keep them quiet.

  Stephen stood proud in his regimentals. The only sign of nerves showed in the way he clasped his hands in front of him. The visible scars on his face were a faint pink now, so that only the eye patch, and the way he turned his head to one side when listening to others, hinted at how severe the injuries were he’d received in battle the summer before.

  The vicar came out the side door to where the three men stood. “Sir Perry’s carriage has arrived. Stephen, Knightwick, will you come with me?”

  David followed them through the door and joined his family in the front pew. He kept his eyes on his cousin when Jane walked up the aisle, and almost felt sorry for the man. An odd mixture of love and…terror were etched in Stephen’s features. David could relate, he realized. The love he had no control over, his entire being overflowing with the desire to give Lady Joanna everything she could ever wish for, whether she wanted it from him or not.

  The terror he could only imagine, since she’d turned him down. If she’d accepted his offer, she would have been dependent on him for everything in life. Her happiness, her security. Those would have been up to him to provide. Every decision he made at Fernleigh, every chance he took at a race meeting, reflected on his livelihood and the status his family enjoyed.

  He was not foolish in the risks he took, and Fernleigh Stud had no financial problems to be concerned about. David knew he could put those concerns aside and trust himself to provide for his family. But Lady Joanna had no interest in starting a family with him.

  The knowledge burned a hole in his gut.

  The service wound down, the couple hurried outside, and everyone piled into their carriages to return to Bridgethorpe Manor for the wedding breakfast. The outdoor room Mother had created under the canvas tent could compare to the finest dining rooms in all of London. The tables were covered in white damask cloths, with pristine white china and gleaming silver at each place setting. Bowls of pink and yellow flowers were dotted about the space, their perfume subtle.

  Jane sat at a table near the back, her parents on one side, Stephen and the Earl and Countess of Bridgethorpe on the other. David’s breath caught when he thought how much his aunt would have enjoyed this day. He said a quick prayer for her and his uncle that they continued to rest in peace.

  Making a path through the well-wishers, David reached the happy couple. He bent and embraced Jane, who’d grown up on the adjoining property. They’d all been friends since they were old enough to leave the nursery. “Never was there a more beautiful bride.”

  “Thank you, cousin. You are all my cousins now; I am so blessed! I might still be lacking in brothers and sisters, but the differences are merely words, aren’t they? I am so pleased to be part of the Lumley family at last.” Her eyes glowed with excitement, shifting to a warmer love when she looked at Stephen.

  David tapped his cousin on the shoulder to draw the man’s attention from his bride. “Good show, old man. May your blessings be many.”

  Stephen clasped David’s hand in both of his. “Thank you. I can’t imagine being more blessed than I am now.”

  Just eight months ago, Stephen had returned from hospital still adjusting to the loss of vision in one eye and hearing in one ear. He’d discovered his parents had died in a fire just days before, and he’d been certain his life was over.

  David remembered the early days of worry, when he feared his cousin might harm himself even more, or accidentally kill himself when drunk, but Stephen had healed quickly, in both spirit and body. No one deserved a happier life that these two, who’d loved each other since childhood.

  Their betrothal had also had a rocky beginning, with Stephen being deep in his cups when he professed his undying love. Jane had calmed down eventually and accepted his second proposal.

  Was there any hope Joanna might do the same? It wasn’t very likely. Being drunk was not even close to the transgressions he’d committed.

  Pushing on and letting someone else congratulate the two, David found his seat at his family’s table, and sat between the twins, Patience and Madeleine. Patience hugged him, as she was wont to do at random times. “I can’t wait until you or Knightwick marries.”

  He chuckled, tamping down the sorrow those words stirred in him. “Why is that?”

  “Weddings are so much fun. You’re almost as old as Stephen. Will you marry soon?”

  He rubbed the pad of his thumb on her cheek. “We’ll see. That requires finding a lady who would have me, you understand.”

  Madeleine scoffed. “Who wouldn’t have you? Hannah writes that all the ladies she has met envy her for her handsome brothers.”

  “There, you see? They wish they had me for a brother, not a husband. My case is hopeless. I’ll never find a woman to love me.” He cupped his hand over his heart, mocking the pain that was more real than he’d admit.

  Hannah chose that moment to join them. “Perhaps if you opened your eyes, you’d see the one right before you.”

  He glanced playfully around the table. “All I see are my sisters. As lovely as you all are, I cannot marry any one of you. And no woman could compare to your beauty and grace.”

  Ten-year-old Lucy Anne waggled her head back and forth. “I know who you’ll marry. Patience told me so.”

  The sister in question gasped. “Hush. I said no such thing.”

  “You did, too. You said Hannah wrote that David was going to propose to a lady named Joanna, and Joanna would be our sister.”

  David lifted an eyebrow in the direction of the eldest of his sisters. “Is that true, Hannah? And what other tales have you told them?”

  “She said—” Hannah’s hand abruptly cut off Lucy Anne’s ability to speak.

  Hannah smiled and fluttered her lashes. “I’ve been writing them about the balls, who wore what color gown, and which lady cropped her hair in the latest mode.”

  He nodded, fighting to keep the stern press to his brows. “I’m certain you would never gossip about what your brothers did. Which ladies they escorted about town, or danced with every night.”

  Wide-eyed, she replied, “Never. My brothers’ lives are their own to live. I would never tell tales on them.”

  “That’s good to know. Because your brothers would never speak of the lord who you attempted to step off
the path with in Lady Brackelhurst’s garden. Or anything else you might have neglected to include in your letters to your sister.”

  The twins gasped. “What lord is this?”

  “Did he kiss you?”

  “Who’s Lady Brackelhurst?” asked Lucy Anne with a frown. “Do we know her?”

  Grateful at least one of his sisters still retained some innocence, David slipped away from the table. He shook his head, realizing in another five years, Patience and Madeleine would take London by storm. By then, Sam would be old enough to assume the role of scowling watchdog. David planned to be busy filling his own nursery.

  If only he could convince the woman he loved to marry him. How could he, when she didn’t want to see him? He needed an excuse to talk to her, a way to prove how important she was to him, without angering her further.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two nights later, David was startled from a sound sleep by someone pounding on his bedchamber door. “What is it?”

  “A rider brought you a message, sir. He claims it’s urgent.” The butler Hodgson’s voice was graveled by sleep.

  David pulled on a wrapper and opened the door. Hodgson handed him a sealed letter, which David tore open, then took the candle from the butler’s hand. The writing was difficult to make out.

  Lumley,

  My sister has taken ill in suspicious circumstances. I fear it’s connected to the incidents we recently discussed, and I beg your assistance in finding who did this to her. We are staying at the White Harte in Windsor until the doctor says she may travel, if she recovers. I’ve sent for my mother to join us.

  Northcotte.

  “Damn.” He crumpled the letter and tossed it into the cold fireplace. “Is the messenger still here?”

  “Yes, sir. He was ordered to wait for a reply.”

  “Tell him I’ll ride with him to Windsor. Wake Knightwick and tell him he must join me. Take the messenger’s horse to the stables and have three mounts readied.” David opened his wardrobe and pulled out some clothing.

 

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