“Surely you have not come alone?” the Marquis exclaimed.
Sadie Vandebilt laughed.
“Alone, except for Aunt Chrissie who, as you know, is Papa’s sister and a Courier, a detective and two lady’s maids.”
The Marquis laughed.
“You were certainly well protected!”
Sadie Vandebilt looked at him mischievously.
“Aunt Chrissie went to bed feeling seasick while we were still in New York Harbour and she would speak to nobody all the way over. She is now in bed at your house.”
The Marquis laughed again before he remarked,
“Anyway, you are here.”
“I came with your coachman and a most marvellous team of chestnuts. It took two hours and twenty minutes. I do hope that is a record!”
“Very nearly,” the Marquis told her. “And at least you have arrived safely.”
As he spoke, there came a burst of laughter from the Gaiety Girls and their admirers who were standing in front of the fireplace.
Angela saw the expression in his eyes and she recognised that he was perturbed at his cousin’s unexpected arrival at this particular moment.
Quickly, as if to divert her attention from what was happening, the Marquis suggested,
“If you have come here to buy horses, let me introduce you to Sir Trevor Brooke. He is an expert on horseflesh and I promise that you can trust his judgement on whatever you buy.”
“I will certainly do my best,” Trevor said.
He held out his hand and Sadie Vandebilt shook it.
“I want at least ten fine racehorses,” she explained, “several stallions and a large number of brood mares.”
Watching them, Angela saw the excitement in Trevor’s eyes and knew what this would mean to him.
“What I suggest, Brooke,” the Marquis interrupted, “is that you give my cousin some champagne and, of course, talk about horses while I look after Angela.”
Angela thought that he was about to introduce her to Sadie Vandebilt.
Instead he drew her to one side, saying,
“What would you like to do?”
“If it is not rude,” Angela replied, “I am very tired and I would like to go to bed.”
“Then, of course, that is what you must do,” the Marquis agreed.
He walked towards the door and Angela took a quick glance at her brother.
He was, however, absorbed in conversation with the American girl and without speaking to him, she therefore hurried after the Marquis.
They walked across the hall and she thought that he would leave her at the bottom of the stairs.
Instead he said,
“I will show you to your room and naturally, when I have an opportunity, show you how grateful I am that you have come to take Lucy’s place in my play.”
He smiled and then continued,
“We will have our first rehearsal tomorrow morning. You must allow me to give you something you really want so that I can show my gratitude.”
“There is no need for that,” Angela replied.
“There is every need for it,” the Marquis contradicted, “and so I shall not permit you to refuse.”
Angela drew in her breath.
They were halfway up the stairs when she stopped.
“If you really mean what you say,” she said, “I can tell you now exactly what I want.”
“Then, of course, I must give it to you,” the Marquis replied, “together with my most heartfelt thanks.”
His words were light, but there was a somewhat hard expression in his eyes.
He thought that the newcomer might look like an angel, but she was most certainly very down-to-earth when it came to material things.
He wondered cynically if she would ask for diamonds or if she would leave the choice of stones to him.
“What I would like, if you will give it to me,” Angela said, “is your permission to – ride one of your – new stallions”
The Marquis stared at her.
“Ride one of my new stallions?” he repeated. “Are you a good rider?”
“Without boasting,” Angela replied to him, “I have ridden ever since I could walk and my father, when he was alive, was very proud of me in the saddle.”
The Marquis looked at her searchingly as if he found it hard to believe what she was saying to him.
Then he answered,
“Very well, but I must warn you, Angela, they are very spirited and hard to hold.”
“That is exactly what I hoped they would be, my Lord,” Angela replied.
They walked up to the top of the stairs and along a corridor that contained fine pieces of furniture and Angela was aware as well that there were some exquisite pictures on the walls.
They were nearly at the end of the corridor when the Marquis stopped outside a door that was half-open.
“This is the room where you are sleeping,” he said.
Angela did not know that it was the room that he had especially chosen for Lucy.
As she had not arrived, the housekeeper had naturally prepared it for the girl who was taking her place.
There was a housemaid unpacking the very few things that remained in one of Angela’s trunks.
She rose when the Marquis appeared, dropped him a curtsey and tactfully left the room.
It was a very impressive bedroom and the huge four-poster bed had a gilded canopy of Cupids holding garlands. The thick posts had carved on them small birds fluttering amongst the foliage of a tree.
“I believe you will be comfortable here,” the Marquis said, “and there is a boudoir next door.”
He walked across to a door near the window and opened it.
Because he seemed to expect it, Angela followed him.
She saw that there was a beautifully furnished sitting room filled with colourful flowers whose fragrance scented the air.
It was lit by several small candelabra that stood on the mantelpiece and on side tables.
“What a beautiful room!” she exclaimed.
“That is what I have always thought,” the Marquis replied, “and my room is beyond it.”
He walked back into the bedroom as he spoke and said,
“Now I will leave you to get some sleep and if you are awake tomorrow morning, I will let you ride one of my stallions at seven-thirty. Then immediately after breakfast we must rehearse the part you are to take in my play before we start the races which I have planned to take place after an early luncheon.”
“It all sounds very exciting,” Angela exclaimed. “I am afraid it will be impossible for me to sleep in case I miss any of it.”
The Marquis laughed.
Then, to her surprise, he took her hand and raised it to his lips.
“Thank you once again for coming,” he murmured.
Before Angela could answer he had left the room and the housemaid came back to finish the job of unpacking her trunk.
Although she thought that she would not sleep, Angela was very tired after all that had happened during the day.
So she fell fast asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
*
Angela had instructed the housemaid to call her at six forty-five in the morning.
When the maid did so, she then jumped out of bed and put on one of the riding habits that Nelly had lent her.
She went down the stairs just before the hand of the grandfather clock in the hall touched seven-thirty.
She was not surprised to find that the Marquis was already there.
He looked up as she approached and commented,
“You are punctual, which is unusual in a woman and, of course, very smart.”
Angela thought at once that he was being sarcastic.
She was well aware that her riding habit would have been considered outrageous on any hunting field.
“I thought, as we were riding so early,” she said in a low voice, “there was no need to put on the hat that matches this habit, which would make me feel v
ery overdressed.”
“I doubt if there will be anyone around to admire you at this time of the morning, except for myself,” the Marquis answered in a rather detached tone.
She thought that there was a distinct mocking note in his voice.
She now wished that she was not wearing the pale green habit that Nelly had chosen for her.
Then she told herself that she would certainly be a laughing stock in the only habit that she possessed as it was threadbare. Also having been bought when she was younger, it was really too tight for her.
As they reached the top of the steps outside the front door, the horses were being brought round.
Once Angela saw the two stallions, she forgot everything in her excitement at being able to ride one of the finest horses she had ever seen in her life.
They were both being rather frisky.
She knew, as the Marquis helped her into the saddle, that he was worried in case she had been over-confident.
Then she told herself that he was not in the least worried about her, but whether or not she would be thrown.
In consequence she might be unable to take the part of the angel in his play.
As she took up the reins, she began to talk to the horse in a soft voice.
Leaning forward to pat his neck, she told him how fine he was and how much she would enjoy riding him.
It was her father who had taught her to talk to a horse that she was riding for the first time.
As she did so, she trotted away from the front of the house.
By the time the Marquis had mounted his own horse and followed her, Angela was some way down the drive.
As he came alongside her, he heard her saying,
“You are very beautiful, so beautiful that I want you to show me exactly what you can do and if you can jump higher than any other horse I have ever ridden.”
“You are being rather over-optimistic,” the Marquis pointed out as he came closer, “if you think I will allow you to jump.”
Angela did not answer, but at the same time her eyes were twinkling.
She told herself that if she had the chance, it would be difficult for him to stop her.
They had gone a little way down the drive when the Marquis turned and, passing through some trees, Angela found herself on flat land where the stallion could gallop.
She did not wait for the Marquis to suggest it.
She set off so quickly that it surprised him and he had to push his own horse forward to catch up with her.
The two stallions were delighted to race each other.
They went at such a speed that Angela was so glad that she was not wearing a hat as she was very certain that it would have been blown away.
As it was, although she had pinned her hair tightly to her head, there were little tendrils curling round her forehead.
After galloping for nearly a mile, they then pulled in their horses.
As they did so, she said breathlessly,
“Thank you, thank you! That was the most marvellous ride I have had for a long time.”
“I need not tell you that you sit on a horse magnificently,” the Marquis said. “I cannot understand why, looking as you do, you don’t have a hundred horses at your disposal.”
For a moment Angela did not follow what he meant.
Then she realised that what he was implying was that if she was indeed a Gaiety Girl, there would be plenty of men like himself who would allow her to ride their horses.
She thought that it was a difficult question to answer.
She therefore said,
“May I look at your Racecourse? I hear it is an exact replica of the famous course at Newmarket.”
“I suppose Brooke told you that,” the Marquis said, “and I am very proud of it. I would like you to see it, although you will not be able to do so until after luncheon.”
“What exactly is happening this afternoon, my Lord?” Angela enquired.
“I thought it would amuse your friend Brooke and the other men staying in the house to race some of my horses,” the Marquis replied. “I have also invited a number of neighbours who are as keen as I am in building up their stables.”
“It sounds thrilling,” Angela enthused.
“I don’t think you will find that the ladies are eager to take part but, of course, you may ride in the flat race if you want to.”
‘That would be marvellous, if I can ride one of your horses,” Angela replied.
“They are at your disposal,” the Marquis said, “with the exception of Saracen, whom you are riding now, for the simple reason that I am keeping him for the Steeplechase we will have at the end.”
They reached the Racecourse.
Angela stared at it, thinking that it was very cleverly built on a flat piece of land and it was protected on two sides by woods, which made it very sheltered.
The Racecourse, being built on the same lines as the Newmarket course, meant quite a strenuous ride if one was to go round it three times.
She could see that in the centre of it there were movable fences that could be put into place for the Steeplechase.
“It is very clever of you,” Angela said, “to have thought of such a convenient way of exercising and training your horses.”
“That is what I thought myself,” the Marquis said, “and you can see that I have had the fences specially constructed so that they move with ease over the course without damaging the grass.”
“Do show me how it is done, my Lord,” Angela asked.
There were men already working on the course and then the Marquis rode up to them and ordered them to pull out one of the fences.
A man obeyed him and Angela could see how skilfully the fence had been made and that it was very high.
In fact she guessed that it was as high as some of those that were on the Grand National Course at Aintree.
The man set the fence in place and stood back so that she and the Marquis could see it.
“You need to be very experienced to take this sort of fence,” the Marquis was saying in an authoritative tone. “In fact I am sure you realise, Angela, that you need to start preparing for the jump some distance before your horse reaches it.”
“I think I understand what you mean,” Angela replied.
As she spoke, she moved Saracen into the centre of the Racecourse.
She looked ahead, following exactly what the Marquis was saying.
“I think that most of the men who are here this afternoon will be able to manage these jumps,” he went on, “and certainly they will not prove too difficult for your friend, Trevor, who is an outstanding equestrian.”
‘That is what I have always thought,” Angela agreed with the Marquis.
Then, as she saw that the Marquis was about to order the men to remove the fences, she urged Saracen forward.
It was some seconds before the Marquis realised what she was doing.
Then, as he shouted out, “No, Angela, stop!” it was too late.
She touched Saracen with her heels and he knew exactly what was required of him.
He sailed over the fence with at least six inches to spare.
She landed on the other side and rode some distance down the course before she turned Saracen round.
The Marquis was now a long way from her and she felt sure as she rode Saracen once again at the fence that he was shouting for her not to do so.
Saracen jumped as he had before and they landed without any difficulty.
Angela rode up to the Marquis.
As she reached him, she realised that he was not looking at her admiringly, as she had hoped but angrily.
“How dare you do that,” he said, “when I had told you not to?”
“I am sorry,” Angela said, “but it was a challenge I could not resist. So please don’t be cross with me.
She looked so lovely and in a way so childlike as she spoke that most unexpectedly the Marquis laughed.
“I don’t believe you are an angel,” he said, “b
ut a small devil from Hell who has no right to be here giving me a heart attack!”
“I am quite unharmed,” Angela replied, “and so is Saracen. He would like to tell you that he enjoyed every minute of it.”
“I am sure he did,” the Marquis said grimly, “but you are not, and on this one I will be obeyed, to enter for the Steeplechase this afternoon.”
There was silence.
Then Angela said,
“I would like to say that I think you are being very unsporting, but I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies and thank you for letting me ride Saracen in the first place.”
The Marquis laughed again.
“You are definitely determined to try the patience of a Saint,” he said. “And while I can see, Angela, that you do ride better than any woman I have ever met, I am not going to risk being beaten on my own Racecourse by a woman!”
This time it was Angela who laughed.
“I understand,” she said, “and, of course, I would hate to do anything that might topple you from your perch!”
The Marquis turned his horse towards the house.
“You have given me enough heart attacks for one morning,” he said. “Now we will go and have some breakfast and after that we will see if you have as much flair for acting as you do for horse riding.”
Angela did not reply and after a moment he said,
“I have not yet been told where you have come from. I know that it is not from George Edwardes or I would have seen you at The Gaiety.”
“As I do not wish to worry you unnecessarily,” Angela replied, “I think I will answer that question after we have had our rehearsal and not before.”
She thought that the Marquis might argue with her, so she put Saracen into a trot and, going ahead the way they had come, rode towards the drive.
The grooms were waiting at the door to take the horses away to the stables.
Angela patted Saracen and thanked him for being so good and giving her a wonderful ride.
As they walked up the steps and through the front door, she said to the Marquis,
“Is it all right for me to come into the dining room dressed as I am, my Lord?”
“I am sure, as it is so early, that there will be no one here to pay you any compliments,” the Marquis answered somewhat sarcastically.
The Angel and the Rake Page 7