This involved shortening the inside rein and pressing firmly with her heel. They were halfway around when he stopped and snorted, tossing his head and becoming agitated.
'What's wrong? Sydney, stand still whilst I take a look.'
She twisted in the saddle, resting one hand on his rump so she could see into the thick shrubbery his hindquarters were standing in. She saw at once what the problem was – he had become entangled in a bramble and there was no way he could extricate himself without assistance.
She would have to dismount and release him herself. Getting down would be no problem, however, he was so tall there was no way she could scramble back into the saddle unless she could find something to stand on.
She patted the horse's neck and he tossed his head as if understanding she was going to help him. The ground was soft and her booted feet landed without making a sound. Unless she was careful she could find herself similarly stuck in the briars. A riding habit had a voluminous skirt and wasn't meant for the wearer to wander about on the ground.
She didn't know her mount well enough to be certain he would remain stationary when she released his reins, but if she held onto them she wouldn't be able to remove the brambles from his legs.
'Stand, Sydney, stand.'
She kept her hand resting against him as she moved to his hindquarters. She would have to be careful as the thorns were sharp and if they dug into the horse he would likely bolt. She kept talking to him softly as she worked and he remained calm and relaxed, occasionally turning his head and giving her a gentle shove in the back. It took far longer than she'd anticipated to release him, but eventually she succeeded.
'There, my boy, you are free of brambles.' She returned to his head and patted his neck. He nuzzled her, leaving a trail of slobber on her shoulder.
'Now, Sydney, we must find somewhere I can remount as I've no wish to walk all the way back to the Dower House.'
The noise of the stable yard at Hemingford Court indicated she was within a quarter of a mile
from this building. She had no alternative but to make her way there and either make use of the mounting block, or ask a groom to give her a leg up to the saddle.
She had already pulled the reins over the gelding's ears to make leading him an easier task, and the massive horse appeared content to amble along beside her listening to her chatter. The path she was on divided and she took the one that went in the direction of the stables. To her consternation it didn't emerge at the rear of the house, but onto the immaculate lawn that surrounded Hemingford.
All might have been well if the two hounds belonging to the duke had not seen her from the terrace and bounded towards her. She knew they were friendly animals and meant them no harm but Sydney viewed their approach quite differently.
He threw his head up in horror lifting her from the ground, she had no time to release the reins before he took off at a gallop. She was flung headlong to the ground and for a few agonising moments she was unable to breathe.
Chapter Eight
Everett had seen the girl, leading a massive gelding, emerge from the woods at the same moment that his dogs had. He cursed the slowness of his reaction as he failed to stop them running headlong to greet the unexpected arrival.
He watched the horse react and saw the girl being thrown to the ground. Without conscious thought, he negotiated the terrace steps and was swinging across the grass towards the fallen rider.
Miss Sinclair was making hideous gasping sounds. His panic subsided. She was winded, painful but not serious. His dogs were nosing at the girl, whining and wagging their tails. The gelding, having recovered from his fright, had turned and was trotting back towards his fallen rider.
'Stay where you are, my dear, take deep breaths. Don't try to move until you are fully recovered.'
He couldn't drop down to the grass beside her, couldn't check she had no broken limbs or other injuries. He was about to yell for someone to come from the house when his head groom came rushing from the stable yard and moments later the housekeeper and Digby were running to join them.
Simpson crouched down and expertly ran her hands along the girl's limbs. 'I'm sure there is nothing broken, you can turn over now, Miss Sinclair, and I will assist you to your feet.'
There was a muffled reply which he couldn't hear. His housekeeper sat back, her cheeks pink. There was something untoward going on.
'Miss Sinclair, are you injured in some way that we cannot see?' He received no answer from the girl but his housekeeper replied.
'Your grace, please could I request that you, and the other gentlemen, leave this matter to myself and Miss Sinclair to deal with?'
He wasn't to be fobbed off so easily. 'What the devil is going on?'
Finally, the girl spoke. 'Go away, I am in an embarrassing position. The bodice of my habit has torn.'
'I beg your pardon, I should have realised why you were not turning around.' He wasn't sure whether he was uncomfortable or amused by the situation. He snapped his fingers and the other men went as quickly as they had arrived.
He had become adept at balancing on one leg and with the aid of his crutch under his armpit, he managed to remove his jacket. 'Here, Simpson, use this. Bring Miss Sinclair into the house so that she may rectify her garment.'
He had no intention of leaving, but merely turned his back on the two of them.
After a few minutes of whispered conversation, the girl spoke to him. 'You can turn now, your grace, I am no longer in danger of embarrassing you.' He turned and to his surprise she was smiling. 'Thank you for giving me this; now, instead of exposing my undergarments, I am a figure of fun.'
The sleeves of his topcoat were so long that her hands were invisible, and the silver buttons ensured that her bosom was safely covered.
'You are taller than I realised, my dear, and your…' He stopped, he had been about to say something indelicate about her breasts.
Instead of being offended she laughed out loud. 'I knew when I put this on it was somewhat tighter than when I had worn it five years ago. No doubt you have also noticed the skirts are several inches above my ankles.'
He glanced down. 'Now that you mention it, my dear, I can see that your habit has been outgrown. I hope you have ordered another one to be made for you?'
For some reason the housekeeper had moved away leaving them to talk alone. Probably a good thing in the circumstances as their conversation was highly unsuitable.
'I have indeed, your grace, thanks to your generosity we shall all be impeccably dressed, and in the height of fashion.' She stepped away and started to walk towards the house.
He, in his shirtsleeves and waistcoat, hopped beside her. The top of her head came just above his shoulder – a perfect height for a young lady, in his opinion.
He had quite forgotten about her horse, but the animal had not forgotten about them. Suddenly the gelding's huge head insinuated itself between them as if wishing to join in with the conversation.
'Sydney, I hope you are ashamed of yourself? See how friendly the dogs are? They are nothing to get flustered about.'
The hounds were trotting along beside the horse as if they belonged there. 'Why are you riding this animal when I gave you a far more suitable mount this morning?'
'The mare will be ideal for the governess to use when she takes Richard and Emma out once they have mastered the ability to ride. Mr Digby had already set in motion the purchase of something more to my liking.'
'If you had been riding the mare, my dear, this nonsense would not have occurred as you would have been able to remount without difficulty. In future, I insist that you always take a groom with you.'
He expected her to disagree, to argue with him, but instead she nodded. 'You are right on both counts, your grace, but unfortunately I have nothing in my stables suitable for my groom to ride. I take it you intend to give me another horse so I can follow your sensible instructions?'
'Devil take it! That will make two horses, two ponies, my prize hound, plus
the exclusive use of my phaeton and chestnuts. Is there anything else you intend to take from me?'
Her laugh sent a strange tingle down his spine. 'Well, your grace, one might say I have already taken your coat from your back.'
He stepped aside to allow her to enter the house before him. 'I knew the moment I set eyes on you, my dear, you were going to be trouble.'
'I'm always happy to oblige, your grace…'
Something strange was happening to him, and to his astonishment he found himself laughing. Something he had not done since his accident.
'If you are obliging, my dear, then I am the devil incarnate.'
'Many a true word is spoken in jest, sir.'
The housekeeper was waiting politely at the bottom of the stairs and she walked gracefully over to join her. How the girl managed to look so feminine when draped in his jacket he had no idea. He made his way to his own apartment and his valet restored his appearance.
When he returned, he was informed that his guest had already departed. She had decided to borrow a jacket from one of his footmen and without a second thought had cantered off on her horse.
*
Lydia felt somewhat conspicuous in her gold-frogged green jacket – but at least she was decently covered. The stableboy who took Sydney from her had more sense than to comment on her unusual appearance.
'Turn him out with the others, he will do better in the paddock than cooped up in the stable, especially when the weather is so warm. I shall not be able to exercise him until my new habit arrives from the seamstress.' There was no necessity for her to have provided this information, especially to a stable lad, but she was not the sort of person who treated her staff as inferior beings – unlike someone she knew who lived not far away.
She had been gone for hours, had missed nursery tea, and the children would be wondering what had become of her. Before she went up to see them she must change out of the ruined habit and put her muslin gown back on. Beth was not so reticent when she saw her mistress.
'Goodness me, miss, whatever next! I've never seen the like.'
Lydia laughed. 'I know, I look bizarre. I shouldn't have ventured forth in my old habit and shall not do so again. This can go to someone smaller than I am – I'm sure there must be a young lady somewhere who would appreciate it.'
'I doubt it, young ladies who are happy to take used garments do not usually have a horse to ride.' The girl held up the voluminous skirt. 'There's a lot of good material here, I'm sure this can be made into something else. Shall I put it in the charity box?'
'Do that for me. Thank you.' She sniffed her hands and pulled a face. 'I really should have a strip wash – I shall do my hands and face and that will have to do until I retire. Please ensure there is ample hot water up here for me when I come up.'
The children greeted her with squeals of excitement. The twins were already in their nightgowns and looked ready for bed. Richard and Emma were still dressed and playing quietly on the rug.
'I apologise for being so tardy, my loves, I had an unfortunate experience at Hemingford. Would you like to hear about it?'
By the time she had finished her amusing story the little ones were asleep. She picked up Lottie and the nursemaid collected David – together they carried them into the freshly painted bedchamber they shared on this floor.
When she returned she invited the older two to accompany her outside so they could meet her equine companion.
'He's very big, Aunt Lydia,' Richard said as he clambered onto the fence to view the gelding.
'As I explained to you earlier, my love, that is why I had no option but to try and find a mounting block.'
Sydney, on hearing her voice, pricked his ears and trotted across to greet her. She was strangely touched by his actions as she had only known him for a few short hours.
The ponies had no intention of being left out of this occasion and charged across for their share of patting and affection.
'Miss Carstairs and I will teach you both to ride. I hope that your habit comes tomorrow, Emma, otherwise you will have to postpone that treat.'
'I shall put on Richard's breeches and then I can ride like him and not be obliged to wait.'
'You will do no such thing, young lady. His grace has sent you a lovely side-saddle and you will learn to ride with that.'
The girl pulled a face but didn't argue further. They had a pleasant stroll around the garden as the light faded and then she took them upstairs to supervise their bedtime rituals.
Her supper was waiting on the table in her sitting room and she devoured it hungrily. When she was replete, and the tray quite empty, she wandered into her bedroom and was delighted to find Beth had not just provided hot water, but filled the hip bath so she could have a total immersion.
Miss Carstairs arrived as promised and Lydia was pleased to see her. 'I don't expect you to take up your duties today, spend the time getting to know your surroundings. I told Richard and Emma that they would be doing formal schoolwork in the mornings and be outside for botany or physical activities in the afternoons.'
'That is exactly what I plan to do, Miss Sinclair. I have drawn up a curriculum for the older children which I would like you to see before I begin tomorrow. Although the twins are too young to be in the schoolroom, I noticed that they like to be with their older siblings so am happy to have them for an hour or two and will start teaching them their letters.'
'Thank you, they will enjoy that. They are all very bright, and I believe quite advanced for their years. I do not hold with the theory that children should be seen and not heard and soundly disciplined for the slightest infraction. Kindness and compassion are far better teachers.'
She left the governess to oversee the unpacking of her trunk and valise. Lydia had appointed one of the new girls to be her dresser – an unusual thing to do – but she wanted Miss Carstairs to become part of the family and therefore intended to treat her in the same way she would a relation.
The children had been given the day off so the house was empty. She hurried to the study and settled down to a quiet hour or two of writing; she was so near the conclusion of her book that every moment she spent away from her characters was a torment.
A letter arrived from Mr Digby, but she tossed it to one side to read when she had finished writing this penultimate chapter.
The next few days passed in a flurry of activity as the children began their new regime with the governess and Lydia finished copying the final chapter of her novel. Her new habit had arrived and she had been out on Sydney every day since and the more she rode him the better she liked the gelding.
Miss Carstairs, who she now called by her given name of Viola, was more like a sister than an employee. The riding lessons were progressing well and both children were able to guide their ponies without a leading rein.
Dinner was served to both Viola and herself in the dining room after the children had gone up. Lydia felt quite daring eating so late, but as they all took refreshments at midday she wasn't ready for dinner until seven o'clock at the earliest.
'The children can now walk, trot and canter safely. The ponies are impeccably trained and stop if told to. I think they are ready to go for a gentle hack with me accompanying them on the mare.'
'Then take them, Viola, but I shall not accompany you as I don't think having Sydney towering over them would improve their confidence.'
'I noticed that you have ridden the other horse that arrived from his grace's stable – do you prefer him to your own mount?'
'No, he has a hard mouth and is less amenable. He is for the groom to ride when I start going further afield on my hacks.' She put down her cutlery and wiped her mouth on the napkin. 'Which brings me to another subject entirely. I received an invitation to attend a party at the big house the day that you arrived but have not yet replied. I wonder if you would consider coming with me as I shall know no one there and would feel far more comfortable with you beside me.'
'I should love to come but I cannot. First
ly, because I do not have an invitation and secondly, because I do not have a suitable evening gown for such a prestigious occasion.'
'Fiddlesticks to that, my dear. I have a wardrobe full of beautiful gowns and I'm sure that at least one of them will be perfect on you. We are of similar build and height – it's only our colouring that is so different. As to the lack of invitation, if you're willing to come then I shall send a note to Mr Digby to include you on the list.'
The matter settled, they talked of other things. 'I have been hearing that Hemingford Court has been completely refurbished over the past few weeks. The duke became a recluse after his accident, you know, and let the house fall into disrepair. Since the advent of the new physician, who was able to reset his injured leg so he can walk, both the house and the grounds are looking spectacular.'
'From what you have told me, Lydia, the gentleman in question had every right to be curmudgeonly. Indeed, I think you have the best of the bargain by being allowed to remain here in sole control of the children, with a magnificent allowance, and practically no interference from him at all.'
'I thank God for it every day. Until we came here we had nothing, no servants, little to eat and lived in a dilapidated and dreary house. His grace has been so generous, I cannot fault him for that. I think, given time, he will come to love the children as I do, but I'm in no hurry to promote this interaction as it might mean he wishes us all to move to Hemingford.'
'You should be pleased if you were asked to, Lydia. You are an attractive young lady and should be out and about in society, not mouldering away here bringing up someone else's children.'
'I have no wish to marry anyone, so have no need to socialise. I am a novelist and my first book is complete. I shall find myself a publisher in the next week or two. The duke's largesse has made it possible for me to pay for publication, I have no need of an advance, but I am hoping I will find a company who loves my work as much as I do and is willing to pay me for the privilege of bringing it out.'
The Reclusive Duke Page 8