The Wild Card

by Beth Elliott

  Amelia looked dismayed and Mrs Warrington added, ‘Take Kitty up to see the new dresses that were sent home this morning. Susan will have unpacked them by now.’

  The two girls raced up to the large dressing-room on the first floor. Kitty stopped short in the doorway. ‘Good gracious, Millie! It is like a modiste’s shop in here!’ She looked from one muslin gown to another, then at the silk dresses hanging in the open wardrobe. The table and even the floor was littered with bandboxes. Bonnets, gloves, scarves and bags covered all the available surfaces.

  ‘Well, you should certainly cause a stir in all this finery.’

  Amelia’s shoulders drooped. ‘I would rather stay here,’ she whispered. ‘I much prefer to be amongst people I know. It seems ungrateful when Mama has gone to so much trouble, but it is her wish that I go to London, not mine.’

  ‘That makes two of us, then, for you know how strongly I object to the business of trying to catch a rich husband.’ Kitty gestured towards all the garments waiting to be packed. ‘We must be the only girls in all England who are so unwilling to live a life of parties and excursions and … and set ourselves out like merchandise for the young men to choose from.’

  Amelia nodded, her china-blue eyes solemn. ‘That is exactly the problem. I cannot bear the thought of being scrutinized like a horse in the market. All the grand ladies inspecting us and on the watch for the smallest fault. It is bad enough with Lady Lynsford – that hawk-like stare of hers. When she looks down her nose she makes me feel like a little girl caught out in something naughty.’

  ‘She is a formidable matron,’ agreed Kitty, ‘but she was just the same with Caroline.’

  Amelia’s face brightened. ‘Oh, that is one comfort. We will be able to visit her. I am sure she will find time for us. And now she has a dear little baby as well. It will be so pleasant to have someone from home down there.’ She looked around the room and sighed. ‘It seems I shall be spending most of my time changing my clothes. Morning dresses, walking dresses, evening gowns.…’

  Kitty moved over to the wardrobe. ‘This is really exquisite.’ She indicated an evening dress of ivory silk, so soft it felt like a caress. The neckline and hem were embroidered with rows of tiny sparkling beads. She smiled at Amelia. ‘You will certainly be the belle of the ball when you wear this. It is quite perfect for your delicate colouring. Make up your mind to it, Millie, if you have to be part of this courting game, you must be the best.’

  ‘No, that role is for you,’ protested Amelia with a gurgle of laughter. Kitty swept a deep curtsy, fluttered an imaginary fan and sailed out of the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘The whole courtyard is completely white now,’ Kitty informed the Warringtons. She was standing at the window of the private parlour of the coaching house where they had taken refuge, looking out at the whirling snow.

  ‘We were fortunate to arrive before the inn filled up,’ Mr Warrington remarked. The landlord tells me that when snow comes in these parts it can last for several days. You girls will have to wait a bit longer for your first ball.’ He looked from one to the other over the top of his reading glasses.

  ‘At the moment, sir, we’re very glad to be warm and dry.’

  ‘And not struggling along, wondering if the horses could pull the coach up the next hill,’ put in Amelia. ‘How much further is it to London, Papa?’

  He put down the letter he was reading. ‘We are at Streatley, so from here we should reach London in the day – if the roads are clear.’

  ‘I cannot believe that any travellers are still out in this weather. They must all have sought shelter from such a blizzard.’ Kitty was just turning away from the window when a movement under the archway caught her eye. ‘No, I do believe there is one more.’ She peered at the darker shapes behind the thickly falling snow. ‘Oh, dear. He is on foot – and limping badly. And his horse is lame, poor thing. The groom seems all right, though.’

  The man went straight to the stables. Kitty imagined the fuss that would be made over the horse’s injury. What about the man’s lame leg? She smiled, thinking of how she would help if he were a patient in her father’s hospital. But no doubt this man had just bruised himself on the icy road. She was still staring out absently when gradually she realized that the gentleman was battling across the yard towards the inn door. His left leg was dragging as he waded through the snow.

  Kitty blinked and looked again. She saw a lean face with dark, straight brows. He was tall and even though he was muffled in a long, caped riding coat, she judged him to be well built. Suddenly she realized that he was looking directly at her from under those black brows. Kitty blushed and whisked herself away from the window. But the image of a remarkably handsome young man stayed in front of her eyes.

  ‘What has made you leap away?’ Amelia was watching her with an eager smile.

  Kitty shook her head. ‘Nothing.’ She knew her friend was not deceived, but this time she was not prepared to describe the incident. Something was different here. Kitty had never felt so drawn to a man before. She was almost angry with herself being bewitched by a total stranger. For the first time, she began to understand why the young men flocked so helplessly round Amelia.

  Mrs Warrington was seated close to the fire, shivering. ‘I fear I have taken cold,’ she said. ‘Would you girls go up to our bedchambers and ask Susan to put a hot brick in my bed? I shall go and lie down shortly.’

  The girls hurried to the door. As they mounted the stairs Amelia asked again, ‘What was it, Kitty? What made you blush? That is not like you.’

  Kitty put a hand to her lips. ‘It was so strange. But wait until we can be private – oh!’ She stopped short.

  A gentleman had drawn back to let them reach the upper landing. Kitty recognized the young man from the courtyard. Close to, he was even taller than he had appeared from a distance. Kitty eagerly inspected his appearance. She noted the many capes on his riding coat and his shining topboots. Here was a real town beau, but behind the fashionable clothes she could detect the strength of a splendidly built man.

  His lean, tanned face with its high cheekbones and firm jaw was extremely handsome. But his eyes were narrowed and his expression was grim. She was just dwelling on his straight, dark eyebrows and aquiline nose when she felt a pinch. Amelia was prodding her to make her move on.

  ‘Thank you,’ said both girls together, as they reached the top step. The gentleman inclined his head rather absently. Kitty wished he would not affect this exaggerated unconcern. She sensed an energy and power in him that fascinated her. In addition, his physical beauty was having the kind of effect on her that she had always scorned when her friends swooned over the young men at the assemblies.

  They passed on towards their rooms, Kitty with a burning face and Amelia trying hard not to giggle. Susan was already unpacking her mistress’s night things so they went into the next chamber. Amelia’s blue eyes sparkled.

  ‘If you could see yourself.’

  ‘I have no wish to do so.’ Kitty pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. ‘What came over me?’

  ‘I know what came over you; he was handsome – in spite of his gloomy air.’

  ‘I expect anyone would feel gloomy after twisting their leg and injuring their horse.’

  ‘Yes, dear Kitty,’ added Amelia with a twinkle. ‘You know all the young men at home consider that your heart is made of marble. How bizarre that one glimpse of a handsome stranger should make such a strong impression on you. Your mother was right to send you to London.’ She dodged the cushion Kitty threw at her and laughed. ‘Why, Kitty, I would have thought it impossible for your cheeks to get any redder than they were a minute ago!’

  There could be no question of continuing their journey the following morning. When asked for his opinion, the landlord had informed Mr Warrington that it was likely the snow had drifted during the night.

  ‘The last person to arrive were young Mr Weston – he comes by now and then and he knows the road well. But even he to
ok a fall on the ice. Hurt his bad leg, he did, sir, an’ his horse slipped as well. When it sets in like this, it be two to three days before the roads is safe to travel. Why, we’ve not seen even the mail coach come through – that just shows you, sir.’

  ‘So, my dears, you will have to resign yourselves to a couple of days of inactivity. We are tolerably comfortable and warm in here.’

  ‘Poor Papa,’ Amelia put an arm affectionately round his shoulders. ‘You have no newspaper.’

  ‘No matter. I have plenty of letters to write.’

  ‘In that case, as Mama is still resting, Kitty and I will take a short walk round the courtyard.’

  Already concentrating on the first letter, Mr Warrington nodded abstractedly. As they put on their outdoor clothes, Amelia laughed. ‘How easily we escaped. Mama would have been more difficult to persuade. Now come on, I am hoping for another chance meeting with your handsome gentleman.’

  ‘This is very different from your usual attitude, Millie.’ Kitty looked up from pulling on her boots. ‘You are always so sweet and polite to all the young men who flock around you at assemblies, but you never show the least sign of interest in any of them. I had quite decided that you felt it to be a subject you would never discuss. And you tell me that I am hardhearted,’ she added, brushing her skirt down and pulling on her cloak.

  Amelia finished buttoning up her pelisse before she answered. ‘Well, there are always so many of them,’ she said slowly. ‘It is difficult to know if they want to dance with me out of admiration for my fair hair, or because they know my father is wealthy. If I were cross-eyed and spotty and they still offered to dance with me, we would know the answer.’

  They both giggled at this idea.

  ‘Yes, but have you never been really attracted to any man in particular?’ persisted Kitty.

  ‘Not among those we meet at the assemblies. Maybe I shall lose my heart to some dashing London rake. Pray hurry, Kitty, let us go outside before Mama sends for us. I really do feel the need for some exercise.’

  They crept out of the bedroom and downstairs. As they emerged into the yard, Kitty felt a strange reluctance. She did so want to see the gentleman again, but not under Millie’s observant gaze.

  What is wrong with me? she thought crossly, I have only seen him twice and I find his face so attractive that here I am behaving like a silly schoolgirl. This has never happened to me before.

  A path had been cleared in the yard and the girls walked briskly around it a few times.

  ‘Shall we take a look at the state of the road?’ suggested Kitty. ‘Although indeed, I do not think we will stir from here today.’

  They ventured under the archway and looked around at a hushed, white world. On the skyline, dark clouds threatened. The countryside sloped down to the river, a dark and winding line in the general whiteness. The coach road was hard to make out, just a dip between the trees and hedgerows. Close by, the snow was trodden down on the track leading to the centre of the village. Smoke was rising from the chimneys of a cluster of cottages nearby but nobody was about.

  ‘How silent it is. Everyone is sitting close to their fire.’ Amelia looked up at the heavy clouds. ‘And I can see why. I fear there is more snow to come any minute. Oh, Kitty, we might be here for a week.’

  ‘How could we bear being cooped up for so long,’ groaned Kitty, as they turned back into the inn yard. ‘No walks, no rides.’

  A few flakes of snow sprinkled their faces as they set off again around their path. Kitty pulled the hood of her cape closer around her face. ‘The wind is biting at my cheeks,’ she said. As she tucked her hands deeper into her muff, the snow spilled down again. Laughing, they began to run. Then, as they reached the coach house an idea struck Kitty.

  ‘I shall go and get my book out of the chaise. It seems there will be plenty of time for reading.’

  Amelia giggled. ‘Depend upon it, Mama will have lots of sewing to keep us occupied.’

  A shrill voice called from an upstairs window. Susan was waving to them to come inside.

  ‘You go,’ urged Kitty. ‘I will just get my book before I come in.’ She darted off on the words and pushed open the heavy door into the high, gloomy coach house. She soon found the Warringtons’ chaise. Without bothering to let the step down she climbed in and pulled the door shut to search in the pocket. Why had she stuffed so many things in here? With a sigh, Kitty pulled out the various items, set her novel on the seat and started putting the other things back more neatly. That done, she was about to climb down when someone spoke right behind the coach. Kitty froze, not wanting to be discovered there all alone.

  ‘Nay, Mr Theo, I can’t let you do that work, not with that leg an’ all,’ said a hoarse voice. This was accompanied by a long bout of coughing.

  ‘Be damned to you, Jack. Of course I can manage. Get yourself inside the inn and keep to your bed until that cold eases.’

  The voice was deep, smooth and it sent shivers down Kitty’s spine. She could guess at once whose it was. He was speaking again.

  ‘Do not go out this way, man. Just look at that blizzard. Go through the stables, you can get to the inn door in a few steps that way. Come on now.…’

  The voices faded. Kitty sat on in the coach for a few minutes more. She wriggled her cold toes inside her boots. Well, she had learnt something useful. When she judged that the men had had time to reach the inn, she jumped lightly down from the chaise and hurried out of the draughty coach house into the stables. At once it felt warmer. She breathed in the reassuring smell of hay and horses. There was nobody in sight. A number of horses stood in their stalls, munching away. She was walking along the central path when her gaze fell on a magnificent black horse. Kitty stopped. This was his horse. She inspected the splendid beast. His coat was like silk and he held his head proudly.

  Kitty remembered the animal limping on the previous day. She moved closer and leaned over the door to see what the injury was. The horse pricked his ears and took a step back. Kitty held out a hand towards his soft muzzle.

  ‘Come on, be friends,’ she coaxed. She heard a door open and looked round in alarm. It would not do to be found here all alone.

  A tall figure emerged from a side room. She sensed immediately who it was even before she saw him limp. Why had she not guessed he would be tending to his horse when she had heard him send his groom away? He was in shirt sleeves and carrying a bucket. Kitty’s gaze took in a pair of broad shoulders. He was coming closer. Hastily, she shifted her eyes to his face. Those black brows formed a straight line over a commanding nose and his lean features were grim. He obviously did not care to see a stranger petting his horse.

  Scarcely breathing, Kitty watched as he continued to advance. His leg was dragging and from the set of his mouth he seemed to be in a lot of pain. Kitty knew she must move away, but she seemed to be rooted to the spot. Her heart was beating wildly. He appeared to grow more threatening as he came closer. His chest, under that fine, white shirt, was broad and well muscled. The column of his throat and the skin showing at the open neck of his shirt, was tanned, as if from an outdoor life. He had long, powerful legs.

  Kitty gulped and brought her gaze back up to his face. Now she could see that his dark hair was thick and curly, brushed back from a wide forehead. His face was long, lean and vivid. There was a devil-may-care look about the set of his mouth but his expression at this moment was forbidding – almost menacing, in fact.

  It suddenly dawned on Kitty that she was quite alone here with a very big and hostile-looking man. With an effort she made to move back – but the book dropped from her nerveless hand and tumbled over the gate into the stall. At once the horse tossed his head and stepped backwards. His left hind leg was obviously weak. A furious exclamation broke from the young man. He had at last reached her. He set down his pail and straightened up again.

  Kitty looked at the bucket from which came the warm, steamy smell of bran. He was going to apply a poultice to the horse’s wound. It was a very ordinar
y, routine job. Yet this gentleman brought an atmosphere of tension and danger. Still, Kitty decided she would not be intimidated. She raised her face to look at him directly.

  ‘What the deuce do you think you are doing?’ he bit out. ‘Can you not see that my horse is lame? He does not need to be startled?’ Then, in a very different voice he said, ‘Easy there, Nimrod. Be easy now.’ He stretched out a hand to stroke the animal’s glossy neck. Nimrod turned his head towards his master.

  Kitty eyed those long, shapely fingers. A shiver ran through her. Cross with herself and with him for his lack of manners, she said, ‘I certainly did not mean to frighten the poor horse. But I have dropped my book into his stall.’

  He continued to soothe Nimrod. Without turning his head he said disdainfully, ‘Have you indeed? I never heard that excuse before.’

  ‘Accidentally,’ insisted Kitty. ‘I – you startled me. I did not think there was anybody here.’

  He turned back towards her reluctantly. ‘And what, if I might be permitted to ask, are you doing in here – especially in weather like this? It is no place for a girl.’

  Kitty’s eyes flashed. She was about to retort that she was entitled to keep out of the blizzard, but then she checked herself. She had startled his horse and she must retrieve her book. She drew a steadying breath. ‘If you would excuse me a moment, sir, I will just pick up my novel and then I shall leave you to care for your poor horse.’

  ‘A novel! Perhaps we should leave it where it is.’ His tone implied that a girl who read novels was beneath contempt. Again, Kitty felt a surge of rage. He was deliberately insulting her and she did not deserve such hostility. She struggled with herself for a moment then decided to show him that she at least, had good manners.

  ‘I trust you have not damaged your leg badly, sir,’ she said politely. ‘I could not but see how you limped into the inn yard yesterday.’