Dizzy Dilemmas

by Mary Beeken

  Upon entering the yard, Dizzy was met by the pleasing sight of her very own mare, Taboo. She had been brought up from Devon by Alfie at Gideon’s instruction and was standing patiently but when she saw her mistress she trotted over and nuzzled her, showing affection after several weeks of being apart. Dizzy stroked her velvety walnut brown nose with its white star and blew gently on the flaring nostrils. She was the perfect mount for Dizzy because she was steady and not easily spooked by anything happening around her; essential qualities when carrying a rider who struggled to coordinate her movements and found it difficult to maintain her balance. There was a definite affinity between horse and owner that boosted Dizzy’s confidence and allowed her to enjoy an activity in which she had previously been very reluctant to participate. It was only on the insistence of her father that she had continued with her riding lessons after a few disastrous falls, in one of which she broke her arm. At the time she had railed against her papa, believing him to be the most unnatural and cruellest parent ever but now, having experienced the pleasure and freedom riding allowed her; she appreciated his tyranny of the time and inwardly thanked him. Some time soon, she admitted silently to herself, she would have to actually thank him properly.

  “Have a look at this,” Georgiana called and Dizzy turning saw Barlow, the head groom, lift a saddle and place it on Taboo’s back. Although it looked similar to a ladies side saddle, she could see that it was actually one that was intended to be ridden astride.

  “The point was to come up with a design that enables you to ride astride but masking the fact from all and sundry even up close,” Georgiana explained. “I took into account your habit and working from that came up with this idea. We have had to make a few minor adjustments to the prototype but I believe we have it just about right now. If you mount we can see if it works.”

  Whilst Barlow checked the girth strap for a second and final time, Alfie assisted Dizzy into the saddle and stood back whilst she adjusted her skirts.

  “It is amazing. I feel very secure up here,” Dizzy told them. “Are my skirts arranged correctly? Does it look like I am riding side saddle?”

  “Walk her around will you so we can see clearly,” Alfie told her and so she paraded her mount whilst a discussion ensued between him and Georgiana. Within ten minutes, with just a couple of quick adjustments they declared themselves happy and Dizzy was permitted to dismount.

  “Thank you so much!” she hugged first her sister and then her kinsman. “This means I can go riding tomorrow morning with Gideon and not worry about being caught out by the ton. Your design is such that they will never guess I am riding astride.”

  “I am confident that it will stand up to scrutiny because people in general see what they expect to see and not always what is before their very eyes. It should even withstand a close up view but if you can avoid getting too near other people it may be wise,” Georgiana said.

  “I do not intend to join any riding excursions but having the freedom to ride early, before the main strut around the park, will be wonderful. I have not dared to go before now for fear of someone seeing me but now, with this saddle, I will not need to worry,” Dizzy exclaimed.

  Gideon came over at this point “So I can extract a promise from you now can I? You will go riding with me in the morning?”

  “It will be my pleasure so yes I promise,” she assured him.

  The following morning saw Dizzy attired in a stunning cobalt blue riding habit already mounted and waiting when Gideon arrived in the stables. He laughed on seeing her ready to be off. “I thought I was early but obviously not. Sorry for keeping you little sister.”

  “I was beginning to think I would have to go without you although in your defence it is still five minutes until our agreed meeting time but please hurry for I am desperate to be off. It seems like ages since my last good ride!” she said.

  “Then by all means let us be off,” he said, nimbly swinging into the saddle. With a nod of thanks to the grooms, brother and sister left the stable yard and headed for Hyde Park.

  Although most of the polite world was still abed, sleeping late after the various entertainments of the night before of which many of them had attended two or more, the London streets were busy with commercial vehicles and working people some just beginning their day whilst others had been toiling before dawn. With the sun shining and the day promising to be warm and pleasant, it brought a sense of good feeling to the city dwellers and therefore many greeted each other with a quick smile if not full blown cheerfulness. Everything always appeared better when the sun shone they all agreed, and it put a spring in their step which was invariably absent on cold or damp mornings. Many household staff were also visible with some buying from street vendors whilst others were out sweeping the front steps and polishing the door knockers and handles to a high shine.

  Youngest and oldest of the Brockton siblings sedately made their way to the park; Gideon on the alert, very much aware that his sister had never ridden through busy London streets before. He need not have worried however, for although she was cautious, she handled her horse well and if not overly exuding confidence in her new saddle, she certainly displayed a pleasing amount of competence.

  “As you know anything faster than a gentle trot is not permitted in the park during the fashionable hour,” Gideon said. “But the beauty of coming at this hour is that most people are still abed and those who are out turn a blind eye if you go at a faster pace; mainly because they are all galloping their way around the park themselves.”

  “I am pleased to hear you say that for I am itching to put Taboo through her paces. Do you usually stay on Rotten Row or can we go off the bridle path?” she asked.

  “We’ll go along Rotten Row to the end and then swing round across the grass and make our way along Long Water. Are you ready?” He replied.

  “Absolutely! Let us go.”

  Beginning at a brisk trot, they made their way along Rotten Row and Dizzy was pleased to see that other than a brief nod of acknowledgement from the few other riders out enjoying their exercise, nobody took any notice of the pair. Her exhilaration at being back on horseback grew alongside her confidence that no one would notice her deception. She urged Taboo to lengthen her stride and leaned low over her neck, fair flying over the turf and laughing as the wind stole her breath and snatched at her hat.

  As they neared the far end of the park they reined in and Dizzy turned a flushed face to her brother. “That has definitely blown the cobwebs away.”

  “It certainly sets one up for a good breakfast. Bacon and eggs always taste so good after an exhilarating ride. Are you up for the return leg?”

  Adjusting her grip on the reins, Dizzy gave her horse the command to move but after only a few strides became aware that her brother’s attention was elsewhere and that he had not followed. She pulled up and turned to see what held his attention. Two men were galloping towards them, obviously in a race and she, Dizzy realised, was in the vicinity of the finish line. She edged Taboo closer to her brother’s horse and said. “Are you ready? Perhaps we should make a move now.”

  “In a moment but let us see who wins.”

  “Do you not recall that I wanted to avoid close proximity with other riders? We need to move away now before they reach us,” she reminded him.

  “Nonsense. Georgiana’s design will bear scrutiny I am sure. Let us put it to the test and see if I am not right. See it is Glenmore and Trevellyn; both men can be relied upon for their discretion even if they do discover that you are actually astride and not on a side saddle,” Gideon told her.

  Dizzy trying to watch dispassionately was vexed when she could no longer deny to herself that her gaze sought out only Glenmore. He was obviously an expert rider and going from the grim determination in face and form, he was also fiercely competitive. Lying low over his horse’s neck, his focus on the finish line never wavering, he was in total command.

  “Come on, Glenmore!” Dizzy offered what she thought was silent encouragement
but an amused glance from her brother told her that she had actually spoken aloud.

  So close were they that at the finish there was no way to distinguish between them but it did not prevent them both claiming victory just as soon as they had pulled up.

  “I beat you by a nose,” Trevellyn crowed.

  “You mistake, my friend. It was Bacchus whose whole head crossed the line before the nose of your horse even reached it!” Glenmore retorted.

  “You must have fallen asleep for it is only in your dreams that you won that race!” Trevellyn insisted.

  “Then let us ask the impartial observers otherwise we are like to spend the rest of this day in dispute.” Glenmore indicated to Gideon and Dizzy.

  “Very well,” Trevellyn agreed. “Can we prevail upon you to declare the winner? Can you break it to my friend here that he came a dismal second? Gently mind for I would hate to see him go into a decline.”

  “Unfair! You are trying to influence the judges with inference but you will not succeed for I know that the integrity and absolute honesty of these honourable people will have them declare me the victor.” Glenmore bowed low to the Brocktons, no mean feat considering he was still on horseback.

  “Despicable! If that isn’t trying to influence through flattery I do not know what is,” Trevellyn protested, throwing his hands up in mock disgust.

  “Please gentlemen, having called on us to declare the winner you must allow us to get a word in sometime soon!” Dizzy announced, raising her voice lest they continue their banter. “My brother and I must confer!”

  “Then we await your verdict, Lady Dizzy,” Trevellyn said contritely and positioned himself next to his competitor who in turn winked at her.

  It did not take more than a minute for the judges to confer and deliver their verdict. “After much deliberation,” Gideon began.

  “Not that much deliberation,” Glenmore stated. “It took you no time at all.”

  “Quiet and let the man speak,” Trevellyn hushed him.

  “After much deliberation,” Gideon began again with a stern look at Glenmore.

  “You have already said that,” Trevellyn told him and received a glare in his turn.

  “After a short deliberation,” Gideon began again but rushed on to avoid further interruptions. “I declare the race a draw!”

  “Very diplomatic of you!” laughed Glenmore.

  “No it is true.” Dizzy supported their decision. “You crossed the line together, gentleman and must therefore share the honours. Our word is final.”

  “Fair enough.” Ross offered him hand to Marcus who shook it vigorously. “We will have a rematch tomorrow.”

  By mutual accord the four of them set their mounts off at a walk, making their way towards the park gates and Dizzy found she was riding beside Marcus. “Do you ride in the park every morning at this time, My Lord Duke?” she asked.

  “Most mornings, yes. Bacchus here needs to gallop off the fidgets. Your brother is a regular at this time of morning too,” he replied.

  “He did not tell me that you normally come to riding at this time!” Dizzy said, almost through clenched teeth.

  “Is it a problem?” he asked perplexed.

  “Yes!” she almost yelled then moderating her tone said, “I mean no! Oh Bitterballens!”

  “You seem inordinately fond of that word I must say. Do you have a particular liking for meatballs from the Netherlands?” he enquired with a smile.

  “It is my favourite word for it rolls of the tongue does it not and as a true lady is not permitted to vent her annoyance in curses as you men are, I feel it is a wonderful substitute,” she told him frankly, hoping to shock him a little but only invoking a laugh from him. “Besides they are truly delicious.”

  “That is a very fetching outfit you are wearing. It brings out the colour of your eyes,” he said admiringly.

  “I told you yesterday not to flirt with me!” She cast him an annoyed glance and huffed.

  “I was not flirting. I was complimenting” here he hesitated for an infinitesimal time, “your seamstress!”

  “I shall be sure to pass on your compliments. I can give you her direction if you wish. Perhaps she has a shade of brown to match your eyes.”

  “Alas dear girl, according to my valet, brown is a colour I cannot wear. It makes me sallow!” he joked.

  “That is a shame for you have amazing eyes that definitely suit you!” Dizzy spoke impulsively before thinking.

  “Why thank you!” Marcus laughed.

  “I speak objectively, Your Grace, just as one would comment on a painting say or a piece of sculpture.”

  “A quick recovery, sweetheart but I think I shall treasure it as a compliment just the same,” he told her with a smile that could only be described as a smirk. “And as such I feel you really ought to call me Marcus.”

  “I really think I ought not! And you should definitely not call me sweetheart!” she retorted.

  “Why not? Would your fiancé object do you think?” he asked her.

  “My fiancé?” she looked puzzled.

  “Mustapha Mummy? Do not tell me you have forgotten the man of your dreams.”

  Dizzy laughed but quickly adjusted her expression to one of demureness. “You mistake, your Grace, Mustapha has not spoken.”

  “You mean he has not proposed? How remiss of him,” Glenmore said

  “No Your Grace, I mean he has not spoken! Not a word! Not a proposal or anything other!” she corrected him.

  “Perhaps the mummified cat has his mummified tongue!” he mused. “Though if that is the case then you may be waiting a very long time for him to ask for you hand in marriage.”

  “I shall bear it with fortitude and patience,” she assured him.

  “His silence is my good fortune though for I know he will voice no objection to my calling you sweetheart.”

  “I however will voice very strong objections. Having agreed we neither wish to marry the other nor give the gossips food for fodder, we are to remain on nodding terms only. Sweetheart definitely does not fall under the umbrella of ‘nodding terms only’,” she pointed out to him.

  “Then permit me to use your name and I will not use any term of endearment,” he told her.

  “You may call me Dizzy, everyone does!”

  “I do not wish to be like everyone. Your name or sweetheart?” Marcus persisted though he knew he was unlikely to get her to tell him her real name through such tactics. “There are plenty of other names I could use but I suppose it should be something beginning with ‘g’ should it not though I have to tell you that it is a letter that does not lend itself well to terms of endearment! So names such as sweet-pea; dearest heart; darling girl will not do. How about pickled gherkin or my little gooseberry, or golden goose? Do you wish for a few more before making your choice?”

  “Glenmore please stop,” Dizzy begged with a laugh. “I beg you do not call me by those names. I really do not want to be called a vegetable, fruit or fowl! Besides you cannot win. We both know that to use any but the most formal address in public will cause all sorts of speculation that you, even more than me, are desperate to avoid. Save your breath.”

  “In public my tongue may be bound by convention but in private it is a different matter is it not? If I am not to be made free with your name then I shall call you my little gherkin,” he informed her.

  Dizzy shrugged. “We are on nodding terms only, Glenmore so I cannot think when you expect to have a chance to annoy me with that silly form of address.”

  “We are talking now, my little gherkin and I am sure we shall be sharing this park for many mornings to come until the end of the season. Just think my precious gherkin; two days ago we were strangers but fate has thrown us together three times since then and therefore we can assume there will be many, many more occasions when we will be occupying the same space and I shall call you my gherkin delight,” Marcus grinningly informed her. “Unless you tell me your name, that is.”

  “You are no
t very good at this are you?” She looked at him in exasperation. “We have agreed to ignore not annoy each other! We can disregard each other with impunity and no one will raise an eyebrow. Why have you now adopted this approach of looking for opportunities to not only meet but to vex me with that ridiculous name?”

  “Who knows; revenge, payback; a determination to learn your given name; or just for sheer devilment but whichever, my little pickle, I find the season is more amusing for it and can therefore promise you that I shall enjoy it,” he smiled broadly as her scowled at him.

  “You will grow tired of it quicker than I, Glenmore, but a word of advice. If you slip up and the mamas and their marriageable daughters think you are showing an interest in me, albeit mistakenly, then they will triple their efforts to secure an introduction. Twisted ankles and dropped kerchiefs will appear mundane compared to what they will cook up to gain your attention and even force you into a proposal.” She hesitated before adding “Perhaps I should drop a judicial word here and there to let it be known you are on the lookout for a wife.”

  “You would not be so underhanded,” he said confidently

  “Why ever would you assume that? Do not suppose I am bound by some mistaken sense of honour for I assure you I am not. You cannot expect me to be all demure and nice when you accused me not two days ago of using tricks to get myself noticed.” She was convinced she had just bested him and so smiled.

  “No, demureness is the last thing I would expect but you are too sensible to play underhand.”

  “How so?” she asked

  “Because that would allow me to play by the same rules and believe me, my delicious gherkin, you would be no match,” he grinned at her.

  “Oh please! I am the youngest of five children! I am a match for anyone, believe me!” Dizzy chuckled. “Besides you are forgetting my secret weapon.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I am the clumsiest person you will probably ever meet. It is dangerous to be around me as you have already discovered to your cost. Are you truly prepared to take the risk? Think what happened to your clothes? How much worse could it be next time to your very person?” she asked him.