At the stables her mount was ready and waiting, but of the head groom there was no sign. 'Am I to ride alone this morning?'
The groom who had just tossed her into the saddle nodded apologetically. 'Mr Roberts has had to go out this morning, but he said he would be back shortly and, if you don't mind, to practice in the paddock until he returns.'
'Very well. I can manage from here, I noticed the paddock gate has been left open for me. I shall not detain you longer.' The young man looked as though he wished to argue but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand and he didn't dare disobey.
She waited until he had vanished around the corner and then took up the reins and patted Firebrand's gleaming neck. 'We shall go out for a quiet hack around the park, we can come to no harm on our own and I'm sure that you don't enjoy being confined to the paddock and school as we have been these past few days.' Eugenie had, as was often the case, lost interest in riding after her first few lessons. She much preferred to sit and discuss her future wardrobe with Lady Masterson, which meant no-one else need know of her foolhardiness.
The horse shook his head, his bit jangling loudly, but his ears were forward and he was relaxed beneath her. She should wait until she was accompanied; although she had walked around the park the area was basically unknown to her. She had little idea which way would be the best for a beginner on what must be considered a highly unsuitable horse.
She clicked her tongue, lowered her hands and touched his flank with her heel and he moved smoothly off into a long easy walk. Only as she left the well-manicured drive for the wide leafy path that led into the woods, did she realise the horse had not been out anywhere since his arrival. He was as ignorant of their surroundings as she was.
His hooves made no sound on the damp earth and the watery sun filtered through the bare branches warming them a little. The path widened and ran straight ahead for half a mile, ideal for her first trot of
the day.
Firebrand responded calmly to her instructions and they trotted in perfect harmony to the end of the path, at no time had he tried to pull away from her, to shy or behave in a way likely to unseat her. 'Good boy! I knew we should be fine together. I have no idea where to go now, I shall let you choose.'
The path branched, the left-hand fork led deeper into the wood, the right towards what looked like an open field above which she could see a distant church spire. She was relieved when her horse chose the fields, she believed she was less likely to get lost that way.
She pushed him into a canter and he responded eagerly; this time his muscles were bunching beneath her and she was in danger of losing control completely. Deliberately she relaxed her hands and spoke soothingly to him and he settled down and carried her towards the gap. As she got closer she saw she would have to jump a ditch in order to reach the field.
She had no experience of jumping; her lessons had not reached that level. She was about to rein back when Firebrand took the decision from her hands and, lengthening his stride, headed at an extended canter for the obstacle. She was tempted to close her eyes and pray but that would be the worst possible option. Instead she sat deep in to the saddle, wrapped her hands in his flying mane, and prayed they would not part company.
For a glorious moment she felt as if she was flying, she glanced down and saw the ditch vanish beneath them; then her horse landed without hesitation, but instead of slowing he extended his stride into a full gallop. All she could do was hang on and hope he ran out of energy at the end of the field. He was not bolting, would stop if she could regain her balance and pull hard on the reins as a more experienced rider would do, so she was safe enough as long as she sat deep in her saddle and didn't panic.
All might still have been well if, at that precise moment, a rider on a magnificent black stallion had not appeared from a gap in the hedge directly into their path. Firebrand did exactly as he should, he swerved sideways avoiding a collision that could have killed them both. However Emma's precarious balance was not sufficient to keep her in the saddle and she sailed into the air to land with a painful thump on her back -in the mud.
*
The Green Man was an excellent establishment in every way, Richard thought, as he dropped his napkin on the empty plate. He had a clean, commodious bedchamber, his own private parlour in which he was now sitting, and they had excellent stabling facilities so his horses were being well cared for.
It was Friday, and Enderby should be back from delivering his letter to Emma telling her he intended to call at three o'clock that afternoon. He had taken his future father-in-law's good advice and spent a leisurely three days travelling to Richmond, not starting his journey until Monday morning, like others not wishing to travel on Sunday if he could avoid it.
Black Knight, his stallion would have recovered from the journey and would be as desperate as he to get out and stretch his legs in the bright November sunshine. He glanced at the mantel clock and saw it was a little after ten o'clock; he had plenty of time for a ride before coming back to change and be driven to Singleton Manor.
He found Mitchell in the yard cleaning the harness alongside the coachman and groom who had also accompanied him to Richmond.
'Good morning, my lord, I can have Black Knight saddled and ready for you in trice. He's itching to get out, and the ostler told me if you take the track down beside the church it will lead eventually through a hedge and into an open field where you can have a good gallop.'
'Excellent. Make sure Enderby orders me a bath, and be certain the carriage is spotless and the horses looking their best.'
He clattered out of the yard feeling the power beneath him, knowing his horse would take hold of the bit with a lesser rider aboard. He sat back in the saddle and softened his hands and the horse responded immediately. They knew each other well, had spent several years riding across Spain and France and been involved in more than one skirmish together.
There! Up ahead he could finally see the tall hawthorn hedge he had been told about, and somewhere there would be a gap he could go through. He had been riding a few moments when he spotted it, he urged his horse forward into a trot and shot through the space. He heard the sound of galloping hooves and hauled back on the reins, forcing his horse back on his haunches, getting himself thoroughly entangled in the thorn covered hedge.
His actions would have been too little too late if the huge chestnut gelding had not taken evasive action as well. He saw the other rider flung from the saddle. Travelling at such speed he hated to think what damage might have been done to him.
It took him several minutes to disentangle himself from the hedge and vault from his saddle. 'Stay here, I must investigate.' He tossed the reins over the animal's head, knowing he would stay put. He stepped back into the field his face ashen, expecting to see a body spread-eagled before him. What he saw was the chestnut standing quietly, ears pricked, and the young woman he had come all this way to propose to, striding towards him incandescent with fury.
He was stupefied. What was she doing riding that horse? She had no more sense than her sister. Unfortunately he didn't have the wit to keep his thoughts to himself.
*
Emma sat up glad she had suffered no more harm than being winded and covered in mud. She saw Firebrand trotting towards her with what could only be described as an anxious look on his face. In spite of her discomfort, and her growing fury at the idiot who had almost killed them, she smiled and held out her hand to the horse.
He nuzzled it, and then as if understanding her dilemma, swung his huge bulk sideways so she could grasp the single stirrup leather and pull herself upright. Her beautiful new habit was quite ruined and this added fuel to her anger. She slipped the reins over Firebrand's ears and looped them around her arm, she didn't think he would wander off, but she wanted to be sure.
When she turned round she saw the nincompoop who had caused the accident. Her mouth fell open and she gulped, swallowing a large amount of mud which did nothing to improve her temper. Spitting dirt, she a
pproached him, eyes blazing, prepared to give him a piece of her mind.
She had thought him lost to her, had spent the last few nights crying into her pillow and here he was, staring at her as if she was an inmate of Bedlam, and not in India at all. The overwhelming relief that she had not lost him, combined with her justifiable ire, was an explosive combination. She opened her mouth to berate him but he forestalled her.
'God's teeth, Emma. Have you run totally mad? First your sister shows as much sense as a pea-goose by believing every word Percy told her, and now you attempt to kill us both by riding a totally unsuitable horse.'
How dare he accuse her? Her fragile self-control deserted her completely and she ran at him. 'You are a monster, and so is your brother, do not dare to accuse me of having no sense? You nearly killed us both by your stupidity.' By the end of this tirade she was screaming, totally out of control. She hit him with a clenched fist directly in his left eye. An open handed slap would have been sufficient, but she was beyond common sense.
Her attack was so unexpected he lost his balance and fell backwards to vanish entirely into the hawthorn hedge. His language was so appalling her ears burned. She didn't wait for him to extricate himself, but fled, towing her horse behind her. Fortunately she had only run a few yards when she spotted a tree stump ideal to use as a mounting block.
She scrambled aboard, rammed her foot into the single iron, gathered up the reins and shouted at Firebrand to go. He went, he didn't like the crashing and shouting that was coming from the hedge any more than she did. Too late she remembered the ditch, but her horse didn't, and he gathered himself and sailed over whilst she remained perched precariously in the saddle.
Her gloves were slippery from the mud and she was having difficulty holding the reins, her bottom was sliding dangerously around on the side saddle for the same reason. She had to rely on the horse's instinct because she was in no position to pull him up when they reached the yard.
The horse dropped to a trot and then a long easy walk before he emerged on the drive. He needed no urging to turn and head under the arch into the yard. Emma shouted to the grooms gawping in amazement at her sudden arrival.
'Quickly, he's coming, don't let him get me. He caused me to fall and now is blaming me for his predicament. Do something, don't let him get in here.'
The head groom shouted and suddenly the yard was full of men. He ordered them to form a solid
wall, their arms linked, across the entrance whilst he helped her from the saddle. 'You took no harm, Miss Meadows?'
'No, as you see, I'm no more than muddied. If Firebrand had not reacted so quickly I should have been killed as would the other rider and his horse. I know I shouldn't have gone out alone on him, but after my experience this morning I'm certain I can trust him with my life.'
She cowered in the loose box with her mount not wishing to be anywhere near Lord Denver when he arrived baying for her blood. She heard the sound of raised voices, then the clatter of hooves and the unexpected sound of laughter outside the box.
The groom came in grinning. 'You're quite right, Miss Meadows, the man is deranged. He looked at us and laughed. Then he said something right peculiar. It was a message for you. ‘Tell Miss Meadows to expect me this afternoon, we have unfinished business.’ It's a puzzle to me how a complete stranger should know your name.'
Emma felt her breakfast threaten to return. She swallowed vigorously. 'I must go in and change, thank you for your assistance, please see that Firebrand has extra feed.'
She decided to take the side door, she had no wish to be seen covered in mud and hear the exclamations of horror and concern from her grandmother. She crept in, carefully removing her boots, not wishing to cover the recently polished floor with her muddy footprints. She thought there was a back stairs for the servants' use someone along here.
A parlour maid came out of one of the closed doors and looked at her with horror. Emma quickly forestalled her queries. 'Yes, I took a tumble, but I'm fine as you can see. I wish you to take me to my apartment and then please order a bath to be sent up at once.'
It would take more than a hot soak to soothe her nerves; she fully understood the significance of Richard's message. He was coming later today when she would get her just deserts; she deserved to be chastised for having the temerity to strike him, but was worried that his message might contain some kind of veiled threat. She could think of only one thing he could do to her that would be unacceptable, insist that she gave up riding Firebrand, and she wasn't going to do that for anyone, even the man she loved.
Chapter Eleven
Richard's fury had abated by the time he reached the stables into which his quarry had flown. He had to admit for a novice she had an excellent seat, and had taken the ditch like an expert horsewoman. He was almost prepared to admit the massive chestnut gelding, although far too big and strong for her, suited her to perfection. His lips curved as he visualised her like an avenging Valkyrie, glorious red hair tumbling over her shoulders, her face streaked with mud, flinging abuse at him. His smile slipped a little and he raised a hand gingerly to touch his eye.
He winced. His beloved certainly knew how to pack a punch, he would have to make sure he didn't infuriate her too often or he would be walking around with permanent black eyes. He laughed out loud at the thought and Black Knight, already overexcited by all the galloping and shouting experienced that morning, shied violently and he almost took a nose dive into the hedge for a second time.
When he met a barrier of grooms preventing him from following his beloved, he laughed. Emma had prevented him from entering the stables. He would see her this afternoon and settle the matter then.
Mitchell was waiting for him at The Green Man and wisely refrained from commenting on his dishevelled appearance, scratched face and rapidly closing eye. 'What time would you be wanting the carriage, my lord?'
'I shall leave here at half past two exactly.'
'Yes, my lord, the carriage will be harnessed and waiting for you.' His valet was not so reticent in his comments. 'Been in the wars, my lord? I hope the other fellow looks worse than you.'
'Enough. I shall not explain myself to you, just get me something to eat and make sure my bath is ready when I'm finished.' Richard could hear his servant sniggering as he left the room to bring up his mid-day meal. Normally he didn't eat at lunchtime but all the excitement had given him an appetite.
He spent longer on his appearance than he had done before, it was not just Emma he wished to impress but her wealthy grandparents. He had heard a lot about Sir James Masterson since he'd come into his title, all of it complimentary. Sir James was famous not only for having a first rate business brain but also for his probity. It wouldn't do to appear as anything other than his new persona. Richard Tennent, the rough soldier must not be in evidence.
Satisfied at last his cravat was tied perfectly, his new jacket from Weston's fitted him as it should, his breeches were smooth and his Hessians so shiny he could see his face in them, he headed down to the yard where his smart travelling carriage was waiting. He paused to admire the turnout, the four matching bays were obviously prime goers, and his coachman and outrider were immaculate in their bottle green livery.
If everything was as it should be, why did he feel so nervous? Good grief – he'd faced Boney's troops with more equanimity. He jumped into the coach and settled back, patting his waistcoat pocket to check the ring box was safely inside. He had been so sure Emma returned his feelings he had purchased an emerald betrothal ring whilst seeing his brother on board the ship that was to take him to India.
*
'Do sit down, my dear girl, you are making my head spin with your marching round the room.' Sir James waved towards the chair next to his and reluctantly Emma came over and perched beside him.
'I do hope Lord Denver is not late; it has been hard enough trying to remain calm without having to wait after three o'clock for him to arrive.'
'It is five minutes to the hour, and if I'm not mi
staken I have just seen a smart vehicle turn into the gates; my word, this young man of yours has a good eye for a horse and no mistake.'
Emma was back on her feet and across to the window before he could prevent her. She would look ridiculous if he saw her peering round the edge of the window, but she wanted to be sure the visitor was indeed him. She recognized the bays and the coach as the ones that had transported her and her sister to the ill-fated party two weeks ago.
'Yes, Grandpapa, I recognize the horses as Denver's. Thank goodness the modiste and her assistant arrived this afternoon to take the measurements for Eugenie's new wardrobe, I couldn't bear to have Grand….' As soon as the words were uttered she knew she had been disrespectful and blushed crimson. Her grandfather chuckled at her embarrassment.
'No, do not be discomposed, my love. I love my wife dearly, but I too am relieved she is not present for this delicate meeting.'
Eventually the front door knocker sounded and Emma heard Foster bid Richard enter. She stood next to Sir James, one hand gripping tightly to a chair back in order to remain upright.
'Lord Denver to see you and Miss Meadows, Sir James.' The butler stood back and bowed him in.
Whatever she had been going to say was forgotten when she saw the discoloration of his eye and the dozens of deep lacerations to his cheeks. 'Richard, I cannot bear to see you so wounded, and all of it my fault.'
She didn't wait for him to answer, forgot that they were not alone in the drawing-room, but ran forward and threw herself into his arms. She reached up to stroke his cheeks, her eyes brimming with happiness and shame to have been the cause of his injuries.
'My darling, I have no one to blame but myself. I could have killed us both by my stupidity as you so rightly said. That horse of yours has my undying affection, without his steadiness I might have lost the thing I prize above all others.'
Neither of them heard Sir James move past them and quietly close the door behind him as he left them alone. Richard dropped to one knee, taking her hands to his lips. The passion in his eyes, the love with which he kissed her knuckles was almost too much.
The Lords & Ladies Box Set Page 17