by Abigail Agar
“Really?” Kent said.
“No, not really.” Percy shrugged. “Thank you for your help. I’m going to see if she still awake.”
*****
“Shall we have tea before we retire, Louisa?”
“Yes. I’m not sure I would be able to sleep just yet,” Louisa said.
Minton arranged to have tea brought in, and Amelia and Louisa sat in the parlour in silence. Neither quite knew what to say. The tea was brought, and Louisa poured. When both sat back, teacups in hand, Louisa spoke.
“I don’t want to sound obtuse, Mother, but did Stafford fail to protect me from Barton?”
Amelia gave Louisa a small smile. “That seems to be what happened.”
“But why?” Louisa asked. “He was there when we discussed it. He agreed to the plan.”
Amelia said, “Percy will get to the bottom of it. I like Stafford, but I agree that he is very difficult to get to know. I would like to know more about him if he continues to court you.”
‘Continues to court me? Do I want him to continue to court me? I don’t want anything to do with Barton, and Stafford knew that yet he ignored it and almost let Barton have the chance for an un-chaperoned conversation with me.
‘If Percy didn’t see it coming, I would have been forced to converse with a man I want nothing to do with. Is Percy the only gentleman in London I can count on?’
“Pardon, Mother. Did you say something?”
Amelia looked at Louisa, scanning her face, wondering what was going on in her mind. “Louisa, did you hear me? I asked you a question.”
Louisa shook her head and looked up at her mother. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked you how you feel about Stafford. How upset would you be if you broke it off?”
“Mother, surely we are not at the point where I should consider breaking it off,” Louisa said, her voice hard.
Amelia sighed. “You don’t know much about him. Do you want to try to know him well enough to keep it going?”
Louisa frowned. “I don’t know. Let’s see what happens now. He may never come see me after tonight.”
“Why can’t I find someone like Percy? Someone reliable. Someone who wants to spend time with me. Someone who won’t let me down.
“Percy told me he could only feel friendship for me. If he didn’t feel that way, I’d say ‘yes’ before all the words were out of his mouth.
“He is everything I want. Attentive. Fun to be around. Sensitive. There is no other man who can surpass him. I am doomed to settle for second best because I can’t have him.”
Percy knocked on the doorjamb and bowed, “Hello, ladies. May I come in or were you about to retire?”
Amelia smiled, “Please come in. It’s late, but neither of us thought we would be able to fall asleep so we stayed up. Would you like tea or a drink?”
“I’ll pour myself. Frederick hasn’t started hiding the whisky from me yet.” He went to the sideboard and poured two fingers into his glass.
Percy sat and leaned back in his chair. “I too knew I couldn’t sleep. My mind is racing.”
Louisa sighed. “Percy, thank you for coming to my rescue. I was so surprised about what was happening that I think I was frozen in place.”
Percy nodded. “You are welcome. I must admit I too was surprised. And disappointed in Stafford. I tried to locate him after our dance was over, but he left the ball early. I would like to understand what got into him.”
Amelia leaned forward. “Tell me, Percy. What do you know about Stafford?”
“Nothing that I didn’t hear here or at White’s. He shares very little information about himself. No one’s quite sure about what he does. I’m asking around. Someone must know him.”
Amelia looked Percy in the eyes. She spoke in a no-nonsense, serious tone, “I told Louisa to break it off if she doesn’t get to know more about him. She can’t walk into a marriage not knowing the man.”
Louisa growled then said, “And I told Mother that I wouldn’t break it off because the man let someone cut in on the ballroom floor.”
Percy nodded. “Both good points. Get to know him better, and find out why he didn’t protect you. Once you have that information, you can decide what you want to do.
“I’m beginning to think I’m the best man for the job,” Percy said only half joking.
“To find out more about Stafford?”
“No, Louisa. To court and marry you.”
Amelia laughed. “You can skip the courting, Percy. I think we all know you well enough.”
Louisa smiled then became serious. “You know you’ve ruined me for every other man. I’ll never know another man as well as I know you. I will go into any marriage knowing far less. It will be a gamble.”
Percy and Amelia exchanged glances. ‘Yes, Amelia knows how I feel. I’m certain of it,’ Percy thought.
Percy put his hands on his thighs and rose from his seat. “Well, ladies, it’s late. I will go into the cool night, soak in the brisk air, and arrive home refreshed.”
Percy bowed and left the parlour. When Amelia heard the front door close, she turned to Louisa.
“Louisa, you owe it to yourself to consider Percy as your marriage partner. He is everything you want and need. There would be an easy transition and—”
“Mother, please. He has always told me we would never marry.”
Amelia rose, “He’s changed his mind. If you listen to him, you would hear it.” She paused. Louisa thought she looked tired. “I must say good night. Are you staying up?”
“For a few minutes. Go along.”
Amelia gave Louisa a small smile. “Don’t lose track of the time. I will see you in the morning.”
When Amelia was upstairs, Louisa stretched out on the settee. She stared at the design in the tent ceiling. She was afraid. What if Percy courted her, and it didn’t work out? She would lose the best friends she ever had. She didn’t think she could live without Percy.
Chapter 17
Percy pounded on the door again. He might not be here tomorrow, but Percy thought he might not have left town yet.
He pounded again, this time yelling Stafford’s name at the second-floor windows. He gave his hand and his vocal cords a rest then started again.
The door flew open. Stafford, in a robe, stood in the doorway. Percy observed that he didn’t look particularly happy.
“What do you want, Percy,” he asked, as if to a man hard of hearing.
Percy modulated his voice. “I want to speak with you. May I come in?”
“No,” Stafford said and slammed the door.
Percy stepped closer and started banging on the door and yelling Stafford’s name. It took Stafford longer than Percy anticipated for him to open the door. Percy, after all, was using his voice and his fist to cut into the silence of the neighbourhood.
“I’m not going away,” Percy said.
Stafford waved him in with his hand, slammed the door, and walked ahead of him to his parlour.
He walked to the sideboard, took out two glasses and filled them both with whisky. He handed one to Percy and flopped in a chair. He raised an eyebrow.
“Are you being blackmailed?”
“Pardon?” Stafford said, casually.
“Is Barton blackmailing you? It’s a simple question.”
“Percy, you know there is nothing simple in this world.”
Percy smiled. “Let’s approach this a different way, shall we? How you are being blackmailed is a complicated question with layers that cause it to be difficult to unravel.
“Are you being blackmailed is an easy question. See, it’s a simple question?”
“What makes you think I’m being blackmailed?” Stafford tilted his head and asked.
Percy sighed. “Shortly before you let Barton cut in on your dance, something you agreed you wouldn’t do, I saw you leave. You walked down a hallway then came back red-faced and angry.
“I saw Barton go down that same hallway a short ti
me before you. He emerged a short time after you with quite a smug grin.
“So, let’s try this again. Are you being blackmailed?”
Stafford sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is when it affects Louisa. I have put the question to you several times, and you haven’t answered. I’ve seen you talk with others and deflect questions with them too. No one seems to know much about you, Stafford.
“What I can’t figure out is why you are courting Louisa. You don’t want to open up with her. Are you expecting to marry her, or are you courting her with no plans of marriage?”
“Look, Percy, what you can’t figure out about me would fit in this room. I don’t have the ability to tip my hand. That’s all I’ll say. You’ll not get the answers you want from me. Finish your drink. It’s time for you to go.”
*****
Donny saw Victor coming and moved his gelding to the circle. He was a beautiful horse, and his chestnut brown colour was glossy in the sunlight.
The men took a brief respite with ale and bread and cheese. Then Victor was ready to see what Donny had.
Victor found the description of the three horses Donny talked about while in London accurate. He nodded. Victor disliked wasting a trip looking at horses that didn’t even resemble the owner's description.
Donny was right about the gelding. He was a showpiece that enhanced Tattersall’s name. Victor would take the three for that reason alone.
Donny and Victor haggled for a while then came to an agreement. Victor would send up his people to take the horses to Tattersall’s.
When he left, Donny wrote to Cecil. He gave Cecil each horse’s qualities, shortcomings, and the amount Victor paid for them.
Cecil shared the letter with Percy, Kent, Hobart, and Frederick. They all planned on going to the auction on Sunday.
Hobart was most excited about the trip. He was the least likely to be recognized, so he planned to lurk in the background until he saw the money that changed hands between Victor and Barton. Frederick knew what Barton was up to, so he could be a thorn in Barton’s side just for fun. He decided to stay close to the mare.
Percy hung around the stall of the carthorse. If any of the horses were misrepresented, it would be the carthorse. Barton would find it more difficult to lie with Percy standing next to him. If need be, he’d prod Barton to give answers.
Kent and Cecil leaned their forearms on the fence of the circle. They took turns walking around the stalls looking for anyone suspicious.
The first horse of Donny’s to be auctioned was the mare. Interested parties had thirty minutes to examine the horse before the auction began.
Frederick saw Barton casually walk up to the stall.
“What a great mare, wouldn’t you say?” he said, to no one in particular.
“How so?” someone standing nearby asked.
“Well, look at the strength in her legs. See that area?” Barton pointed vaguely near the area of the horse’s foot. “You can always get a lot of your information inspecting that area of the horse.”
Frederick stepped forward from the back of the crowd. “How so, Barton? When we look at that area of the horse, what are we looking for?”
“Hello, Frederick. What we look for is a nice thick stem. A sturdy stem.”
Frederick scratched the back of his neck. “And what is the advantage to a horse if it has a sturdy stem?”
Barton gave Frederick a steady look. He didn’t dare give him more in front of the crowd. He said with a smile, “Sturdy, she’s sturdy.”
“How old is she, do you think?” Frederick asked.
“She’s still got a lot of expression in her eyes. I’d have to venture a guess, but she’s most likely three years old. Maybe four.”
Frederick laughed. “Barton, have you noticed her grey hair? Her loose coat? Horses are considered old at around 15 years old. I’ve never seen a four-year-old horse with grey hair and a loose coat.”
Barton turned red, and his eyes were slits. Frederick thought he heard a waver in his voice. “It can be difficult to tell the age of an animal by its looks. We could debate the age of this mare, but we won’t know.
“I think she may be four by the brightness in her eyes. You may differ. I didn’t know you were such an expert on horses. Just months ago, I was advising you when you purchased a gelding.”
Frederick smiled. “And a marvellous job of it you did. I have since made it my business to learn about horses so my next purchase can be an educated one. I don’t like guesswork when purchasing a horse.”
Several gentlemen walked away from the stall while Frederick was talking with Barton. The sale of the mare would be more difficult and less profitable with fewer gentlemen actively bidding.
When the time came, Victor came around and stepped in front of the stall. He opened the bidding too high for his audience and lowered it, looking over at Barton as he did. But Barton stared straight ahead grinding his teeth, his hands balled at his sides.
Victor banged the blocks in his hand and said, “Sold.”
He wrote in a number on the horse’s tag and gave it to the lucky purchaser. “Bring this to the window near the entrance. Thank you, you got a great deal on your new horse.”
Victor went to Barton and began to ask him about what just happened.
“What the –” he started.
“Victor, shall we take a walk?” Barton said in a calm voice.
Once they were out of earshot, Barton whispered in Victor’s ear. Barton snapped his head to the men in front of the mare’s stall and quickly focused in on Frederick. His eyes were dark; his jaw clamped down. He walked away.
Frederick walked over to where Percy was standing. He gave Percy the rundown on the mare purchase. The price she sold for was less than the original opening bid. Percy laughed.
“That much of a difference?”
Frederick nodded. “Amazing, isn’t it? I wonder what Victor thought the animal would fetch when he bought her.” Frederick leaned in close to Percy’s ear, “He might take a loss on this transaction with Donny. He and Barton must make a fortune when we aren’t mucking up the works.”
Barton casually walked over to the stall where the carthorse was housed. Percy and Frederick were in the back of the crowd, but Barton scanned it and quickly found them. Barton’s eyes slit, and colour ran quickly from his neck up to his face.
He turned to the horse and said to no one in particular, “What a great workhorse.”
A gentleman strolled to the front and stood next to Barton. “How so?”
“Well, look at his strong back and muscled legs. It’s obvious he has been used as a workhorse before.”
“What kind of work do you think he’s capable of doing?”
Barton answered the question, but Frederick and Percy weren’t listening. Frederick was whispering in Percy’s ear. “This man was brought in to add legitimacy to Barton. He is supposed to help counteract whatever we may say.”
Frederick and Percy stepped forward. Barton was talking about the horse’s endurance.
Percy asked, “And how do you know this animal has endurance?”
Barton cleared his throat and said, “From his muscle structure. Well-developed muscles will allow the animal to work longer.”
“How long would you say?” Frederick asked.
“Longer than is typical for a carthorse,” Barton answered.
Percy tilted his head, “What is typical for a carthorse?”
Barton took a deep breath and tried to smile to mask his face. “That depends on what you’re asking the animal to do.”
“So, when you say he has longer endurance than the typical carthorse, under what conditions is that true?” Percy asked.
Barton had recovered from his rage and now presented a calm, relaxed front. “If you measure a typical carthorse doing a typical task, this horse,” Barton pointed to the animal, “will have more endurance.”
Percy said, “Pardon me for being co
nfused, but how do you know just by looking at him that he will endure?”
Barton smiled and pointed to the animal’s legs. “Take a look at that muscle development. This animal was made for long hard work.”
Percy said, “I’m confused. Wouldn’t his muscle development indicate how much he could carry, not how long he could carry it?”