by Deb Marlowe
‘Well, aren’t you a fresh young thing?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I don’t know what nonsense Ryeton has told you, but if it’s the house you’re after, or anything in it, then you can turn right back around. It’s all in the contracts—and it’s all mine.’ Her beautiful bow of a mouth twisted a little. ‘But his lordship? You’re welcome to him.’
Mae shook her head. ‘No, you’ve mistaken me. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind.’
‘I won’t promise answers—or answers you want to hear, in any case. And if you’ve come for a fight, then you are in for a disappointment. I don’t fight over men, darling. There are more than enough to go around.’ She waved a negligent hand. ‘And if you’ve questions regarding Ryeton, then I’ve only one answer—pick another mark.’
Mae started again to correct her, but stopped. ‘Why?’ she asked simply.
‘Ryeton spends his money on his horses, not his women. It was not so bad at first, but lately?’ She shook her head. ‘Ah, perhaps he is too old to maintain more than one obsession. Or it might be that we are just too familiar—we have been together for a good spell.’ She raised a shoulder and pursed her lips. ‘Either way, I’ve no talent for playing second fiddle.’
She spared Mae another glance. ‘Nor should you start out that way.’
‘I don’t intend to,’ Mae answered truthfully.
Miss Hague turned back to her horse. ‘In any case, Lady Ryeton is in Newmarket—which would scratch any chance of you hooking him now.’
Mae took a few steps farther into the barn. ‘Is that why you are leaving?’
The other woman laughed. ‘Word is out already, is it?’ Her sigh was almost swallowed in all the soft, rustling sounds of the barn. ‘It’s partly the reason. Why not? She’s invaded my territory, so I shall breach hers. I’m in need of a new protector—and all the nobs here will be gone in a matter of days.’ She shot a glance over her shoulder. ‘I’d advise anyone starting out to hie to London and do the same.’
Approaching the stall, Mae got close enough to see that the grey mare had gone heavy with age and indulgence. There was nothing wrong with her nose, however. She had only just reached the pair of them when the mare swung away from Miss Hague and took a step in her direction. She pushed her nose past Mae’s outstretched hand and straight to her pocket.
Miss Hague chuckled. ‘You must have something good in there.’
‘Sugar,’ Mae answered with a smile. ‘Would you mind?’
‘Of course not.’ The other woman’s voice took on a note of almost parental lenience. She reached out and ran a fond hand down the arch of the mare’s neck. ‘This is Minna. She’s my oldest and dearest friend. I can’t even begin to tell you all the adventures we’ve had together.’ She sighed. ‘I sold her once, when things had got so bad …’ The words trailed away.
Silence hung in the air a moment, along with all the strong and oddly comforting smells of a working barn. Miss Hague gave herself a little shake and continued on as if nothing had happened. ‘I bought her back as soon as I was able—at twice the price. And I’ve never parted from her since. It’s a nice set-up we have here in Newmarket. She has plenty of room to roam, a nice man to spoil her, and I can drive out and visit her any time I like.’
Mae shivered at the tickle of the mare’s velvety nose against the palm of her hand. She heard Miss Hague’s unspoken words—and saw the sorrow they lent to her caressing hand. ‘It sounds like you’ll miss her while you are gone.’
The other woman shot her an amused glance. ‘Indeed I will. I’ve been fitting in extra visits as I prepare to leave. She’s not young any more and I fear …’ Unable to finish the thought, she gestured towards the back of the stall. ‘But Minna won’t be completely bereft. She’ll have Argus to keep her company.’
‘Argus?’ Mae stepped to the side until she caught a glimpse of black towards the back of the stall. A small goat lay curled in a bed of straw, regarding her with unblinking eyes.
‘Argus is Minna’s special friend,’ said Miss Hague with a smile. ‘He was already living here on the farm when I first boarded Minna here. They took one look at each other and have barely been more than a few feet apart since.’ She chuckled. ‘At this point, I think it would be far more difficult for my darling to be separated from Argus than from me.’
Immediately, Mae thought of Pratchett and his cat companion. ‘That is an odd coincidence. I’d only just heard about how some animals strike up such relationships.’
‘Yes, they are all talking about Pratchett, are they not? And he does have a friend—a solid black cat.’ She shivered. ‘They do say as black cats are odd, and that one is no exception. I’ve seen that thoroughbred in a right towering temper tantrum, and that cat will just walk up, cool as you please, and rub up against his leg—and just like that, the horse goes flat and easy as a becalmed ocean.’ She gave a rueful laugh and her grey responded with a nod. ‘Now Minna would be the opposite. She’s as easy going as the day is long, until Argus is out of her sight, and then she starts to get agitated.’
Mae took a step over to the next stall, where a bay with four white stockings stood with his hindquarters towards them. ‘But where does that leave this lovely boy? If those two are so close, I wonder if he feels left out?’ She turned to Miss Hague with a smile. ‘He looks to be in wonderful shape. Is he yours as well?’
‘No. He’s one of Lord Ryeton’s. I don’t think he’s been here long enough to feel left out.’
Mae’s heart began to pound. Ryeton’s? The earl kept a horse tucked away out here?
But Miss Hague had continued, and even through her excitement, Mae caught the bitter note in her voice. ‘If money is such an issue, it makes no sense to me that Ryeton would spare the expense to board this one all the way out here instead of keeping him in his own stables. Heaven knows that his horses are more pampered than his women.’
Intense and hopeful excitement made Mae incautious. ‘Miss Hague, could this be Pratchett?’
‘Pratchett?’ The other woman’s surprise was genuine, as was the slightly mocking trill of laughter that followed it. ‘Good heavens, no. My dear, you must learn more about horses and racing if you are hunting for a protector among the racing set. Pratchett is a full bay, for one thing, and he looks like a champion, with a proud and regal bearing. He’s as temperamental as any stage prima donna as well, with a fiery heart and a tendency to nip out at anyone who would dare come this close to his stall.’
She waved a dismissive hand. ‘This one is fine enough, but he doesn’t have the spirit of a true champion—he cannot even be bothered enough to be curious about us!’ She cocked her head at Mae in curiosity. ‘And why in heaven’s name would Ryeton kidnap his own horse? It doesn’t make sense.’
Mae flushed, but more from disappointment than embarrassment. Oh, would it not have been the grandest thing to have found Pratchett so unexpectedly? How she would have loved to march back into Newmarket and toss that little nugget of information—along with his imperious orders—right in Stephen’s lap!
Still, she would find out what she could. ‘As you say, none of it makes sense to me. Do you have an idea why anyone would kidnap that horse? What gain could be got from it?’
Miss Hague shrugged. ‘A rival, perhaps? Pratchett wins everything he enters. I wish I did know who had done the thing, for I would like to extend my personal thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ryeton so unhappy.’
Mae arched a brow at her. ‘If making Lord Ryeton unhappy would count as a motive towards this crime, then you would seem a likely suspect.’
The woman appeared to be more irritated by the observation than alarmed. ‘And you would seem a little fool to have confronted me about it, here where we are all alone. Were I that desperate, what would keep me from doing you a harm as well?’
Suddenly weariness descended over Charlotte Hague once again. ‘Good gracious, I’d forgotten what it’s like, to be so young and earnest. You exhaust me.’ She rubb
ed her hand across her forehead. Mae could see the conscious effort she made to smooth her expression. ‘It’s only bitterness that makes me wish to see Ryeton as miserable as he’s made me over the last few months. But I’ve neither time nor energy to waste on such pettiness. I have my own future to worry over.’ Her tone grew sardonic. ‘And fewer resources with which to approach it.’
She looked away from Mae. ‘Some day you’ll understand. The time will come when you are not so firm as you’ve always been, when you begin to need the tricks of light and the magic in your dressmaker’s fingers. If you are anything at all like me, then that will be the first time you actually fear what the future might bring.’
Mae had never had to worry about where her next meal was coming from, had always known she would have a place to lay her head, but still, she did know something about the uncertainty and anxiety that went with fearing for your place in the world. ‘I know a little of what you mean,’ she said softly.
Both women startled at the crunch of gravel outside. Minna lifted her head and nickered a welcome and the other woman eyed Mae in knowing amusement. ‘Well, this is unexpected.’
Mae flushed and turned towards the open door. Could Stephen have found her already?
Charlotte Hague dropped a kiss on her mare’s nose. ‘I thought that today was going to be all about endings and goodbyes. I find that it makes things easier to think that it might also be about a beginning.’ She trailed one last caress across the grey’s nose. ‘Goodbye, my darling.’ The smile she cast at Mae was crooked and bittersweet. ‘And good luck to you.’
She strolled towards the barn door, but the light dimmed as a male figure suddenly blocked it. Mae’s heart began to pound. It was Stephen.
Anger shimmered off him in waves. He glared at Mae with a heavy-lidded gaze that stirred her insides to life. He ignored Miss Hague completely, instead raking Mae with a burning, head-to-toe glance. She straightened her spine and braced herself for battle.
Miss Hague gave him a solemn nod, as if they’d met along the streets of London instead of in the wilds of Suffolk. Without looking directly at her, he returned the gesture. She slid past him into the lengthening shadows.
Stephen stood in the wide barn door and smouldered. The gold sunset of Mae’s hair glowed against the dark night of her navy habit. The sight fanned the flames inside him even higher. He feared that if he set foot inside, he’d set the place alight. ‘You just cannot do it, can you?’
Unrepentant, she cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Stephen. I can do a great many things. And I do most of them extremely well.’
‘Perhaps I should have said “won’t” instead. Because from my perspective, the list of things that you should do, but won’t, is longer than my arm.’ He took the risk and entered the shadows of the barn. ‘Certainly you refuse to listen to perfectly rational suggestions—even when they are meant to safeguard your welfare.’
‘Suggestions? Your suggestions sound unfortunately like orders. I have told you repeatedly how I feel about that. I have no wish to be ordered about and treated like my brain caved in when my bosom popped out!’
Her flippancy made him insane. He’d worked himself into a frenzy riding all the way out here. ‘Can’t, won’t. Suggestions, orders. Stop arguing about semantics, Mae! The end result of your folly will be the same, should anyone find out about this little jaunt.’ He stalked towards her, but she held her ground. Like always. Just once he wished he could frighten her enough to listen. He grabbed her arms. ‘I won’t see you ruined!’
‘I cannot see where it is any of your concern.’ She scowled up at him. ‘Kissing me twice in twenty-four hours does not give you any say in my future.’
‘If you have a future,’ he said scathingly. He let go of one arm and tugged on the other. ‘Come, we need to get you back to Titchley.’
She resisted. ‘Don’t you even wish to know what I’ve found out?’
‘Nothing you could have discovered would be worth the risk you’ve taken.’ He paused. ‘I harbour serious doubts regarding your theory that Charlotte Hague stole Ryeton’s horse as a parting shot in their relationship.’ He crossed his arms. ‘Did she?’
‘No.’ The admittance came out sulky, like a child’s. ‘But Ryeton does have a bay boarded here.’
He dropped her other arm and stared at her in disbelief. She gestured to the farthest stall. His heart rate ratcheting, he crossed to look.
‘That’s not Pratchett,’ he said, his gut heavy with disappointment.
‘No, but it is odd that he would keep a horse out here, isn’t it?’
‘Four white feet, do without him,’ Stephen mused.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Nothing, it’s just an old superstition. It goes something like this:
One white foot, buy him
Two white feet, try him
Three white feet, look well about him
Four white feet, do without him.’
‘Well, fortunately we’re not looking to buy him,’ Mae said with sarcasm. ‘Although maybe that is why he’s here? Could Ryeton be selling off his stables? From some things that Miss Hague said, I’m beginning to suspect Ryeton might be having financial difficulties.’
He sighed, suddenly more weary than angry. ‘Did she say he was having financial difficulties?’
‘Not outright, but several things she mentioned suggested the possibility. She did say that his—’
Stephen threw up a hand. ‘Stop. I don’t care what she said. I only care about getting you safely—and quickly—back home. Who knows what Charlotte Hague is going to say when she gets back to Newmarket?’
‘She won’t say anything. She thinks I am a fledgling lightskirt.’
He shuddered. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? Oh, Lord. Fine, then, let’s get you out of here before the farmer who owns this place shows up and finds us here.’
‘So what if he does? Will you shout my name at him?’
‘I won’t have to! Think, Mae. You are not exactly a fade-into-the-background sort of girl. Everyone in Newmarket and its vicinity will have heard of the beautiful and rambunctious heiress with the gold hair. How long do you think it will take that woman—or this hypothetical farmer—to work out who you are? Our best defence is to have you safe and sound at home, with no one else the wiser about this idiotic adventure of yours.’
Her expression had softened. ‘Beautiful?’ she asked softly. But then she frowned. ‘Idiotic?’
‘Yes—to both of those words. There are a host of others I could throw in. Irritating. Exasperating.’ Mine. He brushed that thought away and took her arms again, this time with a gentle touch. ‘I am not trying to stifle you. Don’t you see, Mae? You say that you are resolved not to live a life where no one knows or respects the real you. But how much worse would it be if everyone refused to know or accept you at all? I’m resolved that you should never know the pain of seeing your friends and family abandon you.’
He slid his hands along her arms to take hers. ‘You are indeed rambunctious and irritating, but you are also happy and fun and full of life and energy. I don’t ever want to see you left alone to grow lonely and listless.’
Comprehension chased the obstinate expression from her pretty face. Some of the tension melted from her frame. ‘Like your mother.’
His every muscle tensed. How could he speak of it? He never had—not even with his brother Nicholas. It had been the secret they kept for and with their mother—even after her death.
And look what disaster that secret had wrought! It—and his irresponsibility—had destroyed Fincote. Speaking of it now would be painful, dangerous even, but he would lay bare at least part of the awful truth if it kept Mae from ruining her life.
He sighed. ‘Yes, like my mother. I know her scandal occurred on a grand scale, but it only takes a small scandal to ruin a young woman.’
‘But … I know it must have been horrible for her—when your father left, I mean. But none of
it was her fault—surely once the talk died down—’
Bitterly, he interrupted her. ‘You are right about that—not a bit of it was her fault. She wasn’t a shrew or spendthrift or a wanton. She was merely a wife whose husband loved another. So much so that he couldn’t live without her.’
‘But your father recovered eventually, socially, I mean. Even Lady Catherine was accepted after they stayed together for so many years. And your brothers and your sisters have done well.’
‘Yes, Father and Lady Catherine recovered.’ The bitterness had drained away, leaving only resignation. ‘And they wouldn’t have cared if they hadn’t, for they had each other, and their crowd of loyal, if fast, friends and all of us children. But my mother was left alone to bear the brunt of society’s cruelty. She wasn’t living openly with a lover, but still she was mocked, shunned and ridiculed. And, ultimately, forgotten.’
He rubbed a hand across his brow. ‘Her pain and shame were burdens too heavy for her to overcome. She hid away, with sorrow and disgrace as her only companions.’
‘I never knew,’ Mae said. ‘All the time I spent at Welbourne Manor and I never thought … Her words died away and she moved closer.
‘No one ever thought of her. She lived alone, nursing her grief. It ate at her until she died.’
Her eyes filled with the tears that he had never let fall. ‘Oh, Stephen, I remember that you and Nicholas would sometimes go to visit her.’ She stopped abruptly. Her hands slipped from his and circled around his waist. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’ His tone had gone harsh with emotion. ‘Just don’t let it happen to you.’ Her arms tightened and he knew he should step back. Away. But the barn had grown dimmer and the light inside Mae was shining through, glowing from every inch of exposed skin and pricking him with tiny rays of her warmth. ‘I’m not my father, Mae. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for your disgrace, the reason for your suffering.’