Addie: To Wager On Her Future (Other Pens, Mansfield Park Book 5)

by Leenie Brown

  She squared her shoulders and swallowed her sorrow. There would be other horses. She would demand Iris’s next foal. “Let it be Damon. Mr. Camden would not be disappointed with him. Damon can win a race. You know he can, Mr. Eldridge.”

  “But he is yours,” Mr. Eldridge protested.

  “And Silverthorne is my home, and James is my brother. I think I should like to keep them more.” She held Mr. Eldridge’s gaze until finally, his shoulders drooped in a great exhalation. For being an amiable fellow, he was not without a dose of obstinacy. However, in this dispute, she had to be the victor.

  “Very well,” Mr. Eldridge replied, admitting his defeat and not looking at all pleased about it. “I will give an honest assessment and if I see no other horse which is better, I shall make an offer on Damon, which, in turn, will make Camden desire him.”

  Chapter 6

  “The chestnut moves very well.” Robert stood between Miss Atwood and Mr. Camden the next day, watching as Silverthorne’s grooms gave several horses a gallop around the paddock. He grimaced, which was not entirely a part of his ruse. He was sorry to find that Miss Atwood had indeed been correct. Damon appeared to be the best Silverthorne had to offer. It was due, of course, to the efforts of the lady to whom he must declare his decision — a lady who did not deserve the hand being dealt her by her brother’s foolishness. His conscience, thanks to Faith’s dutiful scolding over the past year, pricked him.

  “I know you favour him, Miss Atwood, but I should very much like to make you an offer.”

  “Your estate breeds horses, Eldridge,” Camden inserted. “You’ll not get one foal from that fellow.”

  “My estate also makes a good showing at the races in Newmarket, and that gelding would bring home a prize along with the recognition such a feat necessarily brings with it. And that, in turn, would make my horses and their breeding services more desirable.”

  Camden laughed. “You are not home enough to make any great return on such notoriety, and you will not be until you decide to start breeding your own lot.”

  “Which is not so far into the future,” Robert hedged.

  “Indeed? And does the amorous Mr. Eldridge have his eye on any lady in particular?” Camden scoffed.

  “You will know when the announcement is printed in the Times,” Robert retorted. As if he was going to tell the likes of Camden about any lady – real or imagined – whom he might be planning to marry.

  Camden huffed. “I still think a breeder would do you better.”

  “And why, pray tell, are you so generously giving me your advice? Is it because you would rather have that horse – what was his name?” He turned toward James.

  “Damon,” James replied.

  “Is it because you would rather have Damon and leave me with the scraps?”

  “None of our horses are scraps.” Miss Atwood’s tone was as annoyed as Robert had hoped it would be. He needed Camden to believe that he and Miss Atwood were merely acquaintances.

  “My apologies. I did not mean to imply any of your livestock was inferior in any way. I was simply making the point that Damon appears to be the best in your stable.”

  “He is,” she replied confidently.

  “It is a pity he cannot sire any offspring,” Camden muttered.

  “He was promised to me by my father before we knew how spirited he would be,” Miss Atwood explained.

  “A gift from your father, you say?” Camden’s interest in Damon had just risen if his tone of voice was any indicator. “It would be difficult to part with such a prized horse, especially now.”

  “It would be difficult at any time,” Miss Atwood replied.

  Robert knew it to be true. He had seen the connection Miss Atwood had with her horse. Such a friendship between rider and beast was not easily cast away.

  “Then, why even put him among the lot?” Of course, Robert knew why, but Camden was not supposed to know that.

  “It is not my decision.” She leveled a displeased look at her brother, which, to Robert’s way of thinking, the fellow well deserved.

  Camden chuckled. “The sorry lot of the fairer sex. If you give him to me, you can ride him whenever you come to call.”

  “And why would my sister ever call on you?” James blurted.

  Camden shrugged. “One never knows, but I would not turn her away if she did call.” His eyes swept Miss Atwood’s figure. “She might find she grows lonely for her mount.”

  “It is only a horse. There will be others.”

  From the way her cheeks flushed, Robert was certain Miss Atwood understood the double entendre Camden had used. The old goat had been taking every opportunity to be near Miss Atwood – too near her if you were to ask Robert, which was why he was now standing between the two of them. No lady needed to be subjected to Camden’s lecherous ways.

  “Perhaps that is why you are so interested in that horse, Eldridge,” Camden continued. “You are hoping to use it to sway Miss Atwood to your cause in filling your nurseries.”

  “I do not need to buy a horse to win a wife,” Robert retorted, although it was not an entirely unworthy thought. If he actually could buy Damon — which he knew was not a very likely thing — he could then find a way to see Damon returned to Miss Atwood, and he would not be opposed to her visiting Stonegate to see her horse. Or, he cast a sidelong glance at Miss Atwood, it would not be a horrible thing to have her as his wife.

  “However,” he continued, “an alliance between Silverthorne’s stables and my own would not be a bad thing. Just imagine the stock we could produce, Atwood. Why Camden here would have no choice but to bet on our horses at every race.” That ought to make the fellow disquieted enough to pursue a purchase of Damon.

  “My horses are for sale, gentlemen. My sister is not,” James said. “The day is growing late for those who might need to travel. Could we come to a decision?”

  “I would like the chestnut – Damon,” Robert said. “I will give you sixty pounds for him.”

  “We will not part with him for less than seventy-five,” James replied.

  “Which is exactly what I have to offer,” Camden said, stepping around Robert and extending his hand to James.

  “Perhaps I can come up on my offer somewhat,” Robert inserted. It would not be natural for a fellow to just give up on what he wanted without a bit of effort being thrown behind his negotiation.

  “I offered first,” Camden said.

  “And if I were to raise the price to eighty?”

  Camden shrugged. “Then I would have to settle on the mare I saw yesterday. She seems a good breeder.”

  Robert laughed. “You? A breeder of horses?” He laughed again. “It is a costly venture, and you would be wagering against nature.” Robert shook his head in disbelief. “Your funds for the amusements to which you are accustomed would be severely curtailed. Trust me. I know.”

  “Then you take the breeder,” Camden offered.

  Robert shook his head. “I have no need for another mare, not even one with that horse’s pedigree.”

  “Ah, but she could produce a horse that is finer than that chestnut.”

  “And it would be years before I could race him. Years of expenses instead of purses.”

  Camden’s face grew hard. “I want that horse.” His words were simple but unscored with a pointed look at James.

  “But Mr. Eldridge has offered more,” Miss Atwood inserted.

  “Your brother understands that my offer has certain advantages to it which cannot be valued in sterling, my dear.”

  “I do not understand.” Miss Atwood was playing her part of innocent sister quite well.

  “Of course, you do not, my dear. These are masculine affairs and not the sort of thing your sex understands.”

  Robert watched Miss Atwood carefully. He was certain that such a statement would make her bristle. It would his sister, and he doubted Miss Atwood, who had been helping with the running of the estate, would take such an insult with any great equanimity. He was
not wrong. Her eyes narrowed as she clenched her jaw, but she held her tongue – likely with great effort.

  “Sell me the horse, Atwood, and then, Eldridge, if you wish, you can make me an offer.”

  “Which you will refuse,” Robert retorted. “How much does Atwood owe you? Perhaps I will cover it and then buy the horse at a reduced price.”

  “Owe you?” Miss Atwood blinked. Her feigned look of ignorance was really quite good. “I do not understand.”

  “As I said, my dear, these are things for us men to discuss. You have done your part in showing us the horse quite well.” He turned to Robert. “A hundred pounds.”

  “My brother owes you a hundred pounds?”

  “No, he does not,” James cried. “It is seventy-five. I owe him seventy-five pounds.”

  “For what?” Miss Atwood demanded.

  “I lost a game,” James kept his voice low as if he did not wish for her to hear him.

  “A bet? I am selling my horse – a gift from our father – over a bet that you were stupid enough to make?”

  Robert was almost certain that the anger Miss Atwood’s voice contained was not fabricated. She had every reason to be furious over the loss of her animal because of her brother’s foolishness. However, whether the anger was real or not, it was having the desired effect on Camden as his lips had curled into a pleased grin. Knowing that he had caused pain to his victims was always something that brought enjoyment to a depraved gentleman such as Camden.

  “Yes, he is, my dear. Now, if you would have your groom prepare him to travel unless Eldridge wishes to give me a thousand pounds for him.”

  “A thousand pounds!” Miss Atwood cried.

  “That does seem exorbitant,” Robert said, keeping his tone calm.

  “If he is as good as you have led me to believe,” there was a glint of calculation in Camden’s eye, “then, you know he can earn that sort of money.”

  Robert crossed his arms and smirked. “Not if he races my horse. I think you remember how good my horse is, do you not?”

  Camden shrugged. “I remember he was better than a lot of other horses, but not this one. You said yourself that Damon is a winner. Are you willing to prove that you were not swindling me just so you could be rid of me and then purchase the horse which is truly the best in this stable?”

  “I am no fool,” Robert said. “I would never attempt to cheat you.”

  “Well, that is good to hear, but I have yet to hear if you are willing to back your expertise or not.”

  Robert shook his head. “I do not have a thousand pounds to wager on a race.”

  “But you do have a horse. A very fine horse.”

  “With which I have no desire to part.” Though the man before him was standing still, Robert had the distinct impression that he was being circled by a ravenous wolf.

  “Then, prove your value by riding Damon for me, and if he wins, I will know you were being honest and will give you a hundred pounds for your effort. However, if he loses, I will require your horse or a thousand pounds.”

  “No, I am not being a part of any game you are playing.”

  “I am not playing a game.” The man’s grin stood in opposition to his claim. “You realize, of course, that should you refuse my offer to ride Damon and decide, instead, to ride in a race against him and win, I will count you as a cheat.” His features grew hard. “And you know how I loathe a cheat.”

  “You wish for Mr. Eldridge to throw a race?” Miss Atwood asked incredulously.

  “Or never to enter,” Mr. Camden.

  “Ever? Any race?” Miss Atwood looked positively horrified.

  Camden nodded.

  “But if he rides Damon and wins, then, he can ride against Damon in the future?” Miss Atwood shook her head as if comprehending Camden was no easy task — which to anyone with even a partially working moral compass, it was not.

  “Only if Damon wins.”

  “Damon is the best horse in our stables,” James said. “I have told you that time and again.”

  “Yes, but you are attempting to save your neck. You would say anything,” Camden said dismissively.

  “But it is true!” Miss Atwood cried. “Damon is the fastest horse we have, and I am not eager to part with him. Therefore, you can believe me.”

  “I prefer to believe Mr. Eldridge. His name means something in the racing world.”

  “As does Silverthorne,” Miss Atwood retorted.

  “Perhaps,” Camden said with a shrug. “So, what is it to be, Eldridge?”

  “This is ridiculous!” Robert cried. “I was here to purchase a horse, and now, somehow, I am the one responsible for the quality of another gentleman’s horse?”

  “A terrible shame it is, is it not?” Camden flicked something off the shoulder of his coat. “You should have lost that race last year. Bertram, at least, had the good grace to disqualify himself.”

  Robert drew in a deep breath and steadied his nerves, reigning in the anger he felt. Causing a person to fly into the rafters was another thing Camden enjoyed. “He fell taking a gate and nearly died. I am not sure that is the same as disqualifying himself.”

  “However, you wish to see it. I will be at the Red Lion when you have come to a decision.” He stepped closer to Robert. “I am not a patient man, Eldridge, so do not dawdle.” He turned back to James. “I will take Damon with me. I am sure you can afford to stable him at the inn until Mr. Eldridge makes up his mind.”

  Robert took three deep breaths. There was no choice to be made. Camden had left him with only one option. “I will do it.”

  “What?” Miss Atwood cried. “You cannot.”

  “No, I must,” he assured her. He could not allow Camden to ban him from every race, nor could he have Camden pursuing him as he did someone who had cheated him. Those fellows rarely survived the encounter.

  “I will ride Damon in the next race at Newmarket,” he said to Camden, “but he stays at Silverthorne while I am at Mansfield and then accompanies me to my estate when I leave. It is the only way I can prepare him as he needs to be prepared to win a race.”

  “I will not pay for lodging or feed.”

  “We will provide all that is needed,” James offered. “Is my debt settled?”

  Camden nodded. “And it is settled in a more favourable fashion than I had expected, for I lost a good deal on that race last year.” He nodded to Robert. “I intend to do better this time.” And with that, he called for his own horse and left.

  Chapter 7

  “We will be in the southern field,” Addie told the stable master as she settled into her saddle. She still could not believe that Mr. Eldridge had agreed to Mr. Camden’s preposterous offer. If he lost his horse or a thousand pounds to the man, James would feel it his duty to repay such a debt. She would make certain of that since it was his foolishness which led to all of this.

  Damon snorted and tossed his head.

  “Not yet,” she said to him. “We will run when we get to the field. I do not wish for you to use up all your resources in getting there. Mr. Eldridge must know exactly of what you are capable.”

  Damon snorted and tossed his head again.

  “It really does not matter if you agree or not.” She patted the side of his neck. How was she going to part with him and not be destroyed by missing him? She blinked at the tears which sprang up in answer to her question. How she wished that there was some horse in their stables who could outrun Damon!

  That was it! Maybe there wasn’t a horse who could outrun Damon now, but that did not mean there might not be one who, with a little training, could best him. She drew to a stop and turned to the groom who had accompanied her. “Stuart, which horse would you say is next in quality to Damon?”

  “Pythias,” Stuart replied.

  “Can you ride him?” Pythias, a young stallion, was a good choice for a stallion could sire offspring which would make Pythias more valuable than Damon.

  “He is a trifle high-spirited, miss, but yes, I have
ridden worse.”

  “Would you please trade your mount for him and bring him to the field?” She needed to see if Pythias had any hope of learning to outrun Damon.

  Stuart’s brow furrowed for a moment before he assured her that he would do as she asked.

  Confident that she had perhaps landed on a solution to her current distress of needing to part with Damon, a flutter of hope lodged in Addie’s heart as she rode on to the field alone.

  Although it was not the first time she had ridden unattended, it was the first time she had felt so alone as she presently did. Mr. Camden had unsettled her and not just a little. She had very much disliked the way the man had found ways to be near her at every turn yesterday. He was not an unattractive gentleman — indeed he was rather handsome — and likely not more than forty or five and forty in age, but he had made her skin crawl more than the thought of being married to her father’s friend Mr. Northcott did.

  “A bit faster boy.” She nudged Damon to a gallop. The mere memory of Mr. Camden’s skin-crawling presence made her wish to not be alone for too very long.

  “Good morning.” Mr. Eldridge had broken away from his group to meet her as she approached. “Why are you alone?”

  She scowled. She did not like his scolding tone of voice, even if it was likely because he was as concerned about Mr. Camden and what he might do as she was.

  “James has gone to see that the bill at the inn is settled.”

  “You mean he is gone to see that Camden is gone.”

  “That is what I said,” she retorted.

  “I was not criticizing,” Mr. Eldridge said with a sidelong look at her as they rode.

  She drew and released a deep breath. “I apologize. I should not speak so sharply. I am just a trifle ill-at-ease today.”

  It was not an excuse. She was anxious. Though her father’s condition had not worsened, he had also not made any improvements either. His life hung at the edges of the room as if it could not decide whether to leave or stay. She had begged it to stay, but she knew it would not be for long even if it did grant her wish.