‘We has one in our stables that’ll beat any ’orseflesh in these parts.’
“You’re boastin’, I says.”
‘Nay,’ he answers. ‘We ’as a great black stallion. Over seventeen ’ands ’e be. And ’e’ll outride and out jump anythin’ as you could put up.’
“I was a-goin’ to ask ’im more when the groom ’e was with calls ’im, sets down ’is mug all of a ’urry and follows ’im out of the inn.”
“Who were they? Where did they come from?” Lord Manville demanded, speaking as though he could not contain his curiosity.
“I was just a-goin’ to tell your Lordship,” Jim replied. “I asks the innkeeper, bein’ someone I’ve known all me life, who them two grooms belongs to. He replies they were the Storr lads and asks why I didn’t recognise the livery.”
“The Earl of Storr!”
Lord Manville uttered the words with an expression on his face that made Adrian say quickly,
“It may not be Pegasus, Silvanus! Don’t count too much on it. After all, there are many black stallions.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Lord Manville said. “Thank you, Jim. If it turns out that the black stallion is Pegasus, you will not go unrewarded. You know what I have promised for the first person to bring me information which will lead me to Miss Candida.”
“Yes, my Lord, I knows, my Lord. Thank you very much, my Lord!”
The stable boy backed his way out of the door.
Lord Manville turned to Adrian, a light in his eyes that transfigured him.
“That is where she must have gone – to Storr Castle. But why?”
“Don’t be too confident,” Adrian urged.
He had a feeling that his Guardian would break if this last hope proved to be fruitless.
“I will go and call on Lord Storr immediately,” Lord Manville declared.
“Not at seven o’clock in the morning!” Adrian protested.
“No, no, I suppose not,” Lord Manville admitted, looking at the clock as though its hands must be deceiving him.
“You must at least wait until noon,” Adrian said firmly. “You don’t wish to cause unnecessary comment.”
“I will be there half an hour before noon,” Lord Manville conceded, “Order my curricle, Adrian, I will go and change.”
He went from the breakfast room and Adrian heard him running down the passageway like a schoolboy setting off for the holidays.
‘If only this is true,’ he thought and to his surprise he found himself praying. ‘Oh Lord! Let Candida be there!’
Chapter Twelve
Just before eleven-thirty in the morning The Earl and Countess of Storr were sitting in the blue drawing room at Storr Castle.
The Earl, an elderly man, who had once been exceedingly handsome, was resting his foot on a velvet stool, while he read aloud from The Morning Post. Finally he put down the newspaper and remarked,
“You are not listening, Emily.”
“Indeed I was, dear,” his wife answered, looking up from her tapestry.
“Then what was I reading about?” Lord Storr demanded.
His wife gave a laugh so light and so young that it belied the grey of her hair as she replied,
“‘All right, my dear, you have caught me out’, as Elizabeth used to say. I was thinking about Candida.”
“Neither of us think of anything else these days,” Lord Storr replied gruffly.
“She is not happy, Arthur.”
“Not happy!” Lord Storr exclaimed. “Why not? We have given her everything that she wants, have we not? And she has refused a dozen times or more to have a Season in London, even though you told her that you would present her to the Queen.”
“She cries bitterly night after night into her pillow,” Lady Storr said, her voice dropping. “Mrs. Danvers told me this. So for several nights I have listened at her door. It’s terrible to hear her misery, but I don’t like to force her confidence. Perhaps, when she has been with us longer, she will tell us what is wrong.”
“What can be wrong?” the Earl growled.
“That is what I keep asking myself,” his wife replied. “I cannot believe such unhappiness is entirely caused by her father’s death.”
The Earl snorted aggressively and his wife said warningly,
“Now, Arthur?”
“Yes, yes, I know,” he said quickly. “I will say nothing about that man to distress Candida. But when I think how he kept Elizabeth apart from us all these years, I could curse him into eternity.”
“It was your fault, dear,” Lady Storr said gently. “You know that you made little effort to find Elizabeth when they first ran away and after that, when we made enquiries, we could not find where they had gone. They had simply vanished.”
“Very well, it was my fault,” the Earl agreed testily. “But now that Candida has come back to us, we must see that she is happy and content. Give her everything she wants, Emily – everything.”
“Of course, dear, if it is in my power,” Lady Storr answered without conviction.
She sighed and her sweet face bore a worried look.
The opening of the door made them both turn their heads and the butler crossed the room to the Earl’s side.
“Lord Manville has called, my Lord. His Lordship begs that you will see him on an urgent matter.”
“Lord Manville!” Lady Storr cried in surprise and added quickly, “Show his Lordship in and, Newman, serve the best port, or maybe his Lordship would prefer Madeira.”
“Manville! I thought he never came to the country,” Lord Storr remarked. “A gay blade from all I have heard.”
They waited until Newman left the room and a moment later he announced stentoriously,
“Lord Manville, my Lord.”
Lady Storr rose to her feet as Lord Manville walked towards them.
He was dressed with extreme elegance and she would not have been a woman had she not appreciated his good looks and beguiling smile he gave her as he shook first her hand and then the Earl’s.
“Nice to see you, Manville,” his Lordship said. “Cannot get up because of this damn gout. One of the penalties of old age. Comes to us all in time.”
“I am afraid it does,” Lord Manville agreed.
“Do sit down, Lord Manville,” Lady Storr suggested, indicating a seat beside hers. “It is a great pleasure to see you. Your mother was a very dear friend of mine and never a week passed when we did not drive over to each other’s houses. I am afraid we were sad gossips, but we enjoyed each other’s company enormously.”
“My mother often spoke of you,” Lord Manville said. “And my father too used to tell me how much he enjoyed racing with you, my Lord.”
“A fine judge of horseflesh, your father,” Lord Storr remarked.
There was a slight pause.
Then, as if Lord Manville could waste no more time in trivialities, he said with an urgent note in his voice,
“I called to see you, my Lord, because I feel you may be able to help me.”
“Help you?” Lady Storr asked in surprise. “But, of course, we would be only too delighted, would we not, Arthur?”
“Yes, yes, naturally,” Lord Storr said. “What is it you want?”
Before Lord Manville could speak there was a sudden interruption.
“Grandpapa,” a voice cried from the open window. “Grandpapa, what do you think?”
A small figure dressed in white came running across the room. She had eyes only for the old man to whom she ran, slipping her hand into his and bending forward to plant a kiss on his forehead.
“You will not believe it, Grandpapa,” she said, her voice alight with excitement, “but Pegasus leaped the river, he did really! He saw me on the other bank and he jumped. His hooves never even touched the water and you know how wide it is. Do you not think that is fantastic?”
“It is indeed,” Lord Storr replied, “but then Pegasus is a very remarkable horse. Manville, I don’t believe you have met my granddaughter.”
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br /> Lord Manville had risen to his feet as Candida entered the room.
Now she started as though someone had fired a gunshot. Their eyes met and for a moment it seemed as though they had both been turned to stone.
They stood staring at each other and there was a tension vibrating between them so that everything else faded away and they were alone facing each other in another world.
Then, with a little inarticulate cry, almost that of an animal who has been frightened, Candida turned and fled.
She ran from the room out into the sunshine.
After a second, with a muttered murmur of apology, Lord Manville followed her.
“What is happening? What is going on?” Lord Storr demanded irritably. “Where has Candida gone and why has young Manville gone after her?”
Lady Storr picked up her embroidery.
“I think, Arthur,” she said gently, “that we have discovered the reason why Candida has been so unhappy.”
“You mean that Manville has upset her?” Lord Storr asked angrily. “Well, I will not have it, do you hear, Emily? And I will not have him taking her away either, if that is what he is after. She has come to us and, if she leaves us now, it will seem like losing Elizabeth all over again.”
“Manville Park is very near,” Lady Storr said quietly, “and I have a feeling, Arthur, that we shall never lose Candida completely, whatever happens.”
Candida had stopped at the far end of the terrace. She knew that Lord Manville was following her and pride would not allow her to run away any further. She rested her hands on the stone balustrade and, as he approached, he saw that she was trembling.
Her head was turned from him and he could see the straight line of her tiny aristocratic nose, the soft curve of her parted lips and the way she carried her chin proudly on the rounded white column of her neck.
He asked himself again, as he had asked himself by now a thousand times, how he could have been such a fool as not to recognise her for what she was.
He came near to her slowly and, when he saw the little pulse beating in her neck, he knew that she was frightened.
After a moment she said in a breathless voice hardly above a whisper,
“You have – come for – Pegasus?”
“No,” he answered, “I have been searching for you.”
“It was wrong of me to take him – when you had paid for him,” she said. “He was your horse, but I could not leave him – behind.”
“It was not Pegasus that mattered!”
Lord Manville’s voice was deep and hoarse.
Then, forcing himself with an effort to speak more lightly, he said,
“Can you not realise what a catastrophic muddle you have left us in? Mrs. Hewson has never stopped weeping. Bateson is crippled with rheumatism. Garton has been so bad-tempered that half his stable boys have threatened to run away and Alfonse is sending up the most disgustingly inedible meals it is possible to imagine!”
Candida gave a little ghost of a smile.
“I am sure that is not – true,” she managed to say.
“It is indeed,” Lord Manville asserted. “And Adrian has written so many poems and torn them up again that the house resembles a paperchase!”
For one fleeting second she glanced at him.
“You know then about Adrian’s – poems?”
“He told me how much you had helped him,” Lord Manville said gently. “Thank you, Candida. You have done so much for Adrian. You realised what he needed, while I was dealing with him in entirely the wrong manner.”
“You are not – angry about the – poems?” Candida asked.
“I am not angry about anything,” Lord Manville answered. “I am only glad – and what an inadequate word that is – to have found you again, Candida.”
“I thought you were angry with – me,” Candida whispered. “You said – ”
“Can we not forget what I said?” Lord Manville interrupted. “I was insane – and I did not understand what had happened.”
“But why are you here?” Candida asked. “And why is Alfonse still at Manville Park? I thought you would have gone back to London.”
“I have been looking for you,” Lord Manville said simply.
“I imagined you were in London,” Candida said almost beneath her breath. “I thought of you having a – gay and – amusing time with your – friends.”
“I have travelled miles over the countryside. I have ridden every horse in my stables to the point of exhaustion. It would have distressed you, Candida, to see them. But I have bought a horse that I think will please you.”
She did not speak and he added,
“It is Firefly.”
“Oh – I am glad!”
For the first time there was a warmth in her voice.
“I am waiting for you to ride him.”
Candida drew a deep breath.
“There is – something I want to say – to you,” she said slowly and he saw what an effort she was making. “You were angry with – me and though I had not done – what you – thought I had – I had in fact – deceived you.”
Lord Manville would have spoken, but she put up her little hand to prevent him. It was trembling and her whole body seemed to quiver.
“No, no – I have to say this,” she continued, “I have been thinking of it for – a long time. I know now that I was – wrong to go to London with Major Hooper when he asked me to do so – Mama would not have approved – but at the time I could think only of Pegasus and there seemed nothing else I could do not to lose him. Major Hooper was kind to me, but I felt – though I would not admit it – there was something strange about the other – women who rode his horses. It was the same at Mrs. Clinton’s. I knew that Mama would not have liked her, even though she was so considerate. But I was so – foolish that I thought she was giving me those – gowns as a – present because she wanted to – help me. I did not know that – you were going to pay – for them.”
“Candida,” Lord Manville said pleadingly, but again her little hand moved to check him and he knew that he must let her say what she wanted to say.
He wondered how many times she had rehearsed it in her mind against the day they might meet.
“And when you took me away without a – chaperone,” she continued, “and I stayed at Manville Park without another woman being there, I knew – yes, of course, I knew – it was wrong. It did not seem wrong, but I was aware all the time that I was behaving in a – reprehensible manner, even though I was so h-happy.”
She faltered for a moment and her voice broke on the word and then, with an obvious act of courage, she went on piteously,
“I did not – understand what was – happening, I just knew – I wanted to be – with – you. Then, when you k-kissed me, I knew that – I loved – you and – I thought that – you loved – me – too.”
“I did love you,” Lord Manville murmured, his eyes on her face as if he could never stop looking at her.
“B-but,” Candida stammered, “because I was so – ignorant and s-stupid, I thought that it meant we – would be m-married and be t-together for ever.”
“That was exactly what it should have meant,” Lord Manville interrupted.
Candida shook her head.
“I s-saw your – face that n-night at the p-party, and I knew you d-did – not – m-mean that – and that something was very w-wrong.”
“It was I who was wrong, Candida.”
She turned her face away.
“No! It was because I had d-deceived you,” she said and it was agony for him to hear the self-accusation in her tone. “I asked Grandpapa about the Argyll Rooms, Motts and Kate Hamilton’s and he said they were places no l-lady should know about, let alone v-visit. So I knew – you see, that – you did not think of – me as being a l-lady.”
“Candida, do not torture me!” Lord Manville begged. “It was all a terrible mistake.”
It seemed as though Candida did not hear him, as she continued,
“If I had been honest and told you the truth – perhaps everything would have been all right. But I was a-afraid you would s-send me away and I would be separated from – Pegasus. So I p-pretended I was going to do what you wanted, but instead I helped Adrian with his poems! Then – those w-women – came – ”
“Women you should never have met or even known of their existence!” Lord Manville exclaimed.
“The m-more I thought about – it, the m-more I realised I – was – one of – them,” Candida murmured, the colour rising in her pale cheeks. “That was why – Mrs. Clinton had dressed me up in that vulgar – white habit and why Major Hooper had taken me in the Park, so that I should be l-like them and y-you, or somebody like – you, should pay a high p-price for Pegasus and – me – too. It is all my f-fault and – I am – ashamed.”
Her voice broke and the tears overflowed from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
“Don’t, Candida, I beg you not to cry,” Lord Manville pleaded.
“There is only one – thing more,” Candida said, still in that low lost voice. “I have not told Grandpapa or Grandmama that I have been to London, or indeed that I stayed with – you at Manville Park. I had no wish to – lie any further, but I thought it would – hurt them and they would not understand. And so they think I came straight to them when – Papa died and that I was – bruised and – scratched because I had a fall on the way. It was a – lie, but perhaps it was not a very wrong – lie!”
Her eyes sought his for a moment as if seeking confirmation.
“I think it was not wrong but right,” Lord Manville said gently, “absolutely right. It is the sort of thing, Candida, that only a lady could have thought of – a great lady.”
She turned her face to him and he saw the question in her eyes and the tears standing like dewdrops on her dark lashes.
“Then you don’t d-despise – me – utterly?” she questioned.
He put out his hands and took hers.
He felt her fingers tremble beneath his, but she did not draw them away.
“Candida,” he said gently, “will you honour me by becoming my wife? I cannot live without you.”
For a moment she was very still and then she said,
The Pretty Horse-Breakers Page 21