by Claudy Conn
Edward laughed, “I remember!”
Jules beamed over the memory, “Fond days, but Edward, what brings you to Rye? You haven’t anyone here…other than me and you didn’t know I was here.”
“Not for anyone else’s ears ‘ole man. Not sure I even want to tell you,” Edward grimaced.
“You know what? Let’s just be off…go finish getting bosky at my place, in private.” He looked around. “I’ll go settle up…be right back and then you can tell me everything, how is that?”
“Fine, yes.” Sir Edward felt the glumness again hit him as he watched his friend walk off and then he saw that young lad he had encountered earlier. He didn’t know what made him get up and walk toward the lad. Perhaps it was because of the way the boy carried himself, as though he was…what? Terrified? Indeed, that was it. The lad seemed frightened. Why then was he here alone?
He reached the corridor only to find the boy no longer there. He shrugged and turned around only to receive a forceful blow to his middle as that very lad barreled into him. He put out his hands to steady the boy and wondered again what a young and obviously innocent lad was doing in such a place. “Ho there, young sir…” Sir Edward said as a pair of dark eyes flashed at him. It was absurd but he was immediately struck by the fact that those eyes were very large, thickly lashed and opened wide with a mixed expression of irritation and fear.
“Excuse me, so sorry, I went into the wrong room…looking for the way out you see,” the lad said and broke free of Edward’s hold.
Thinking that this was the prettiest boy he had ever seen swaggering about in a heathen smuggler’s inn, Sir Edward was more interested than he normally would have been. His gaze moved to the stray hairs of white gold peeping out from the hat over the boy’s forehead and his mind began racing for now he was sure this boy though tall for a twelve year old, couldn’t be more than that.
Apparently the lad immediately noticed his scrutiny and hurriedly pulled his cap lower over his forehead. A reluctant grin curved Sir Edward’s lips. Well, well, the youth was out on a lark, no doubt and doesn’t wish to be recognized. He couldn’t resist a tease, and stood in the lad’s path, “Ah, but it is you again. Well met, for I had a question or two I should like to put to you. First, why now are you in such a hurry? Have you seen enough to satisfy a young man’s fancy?”
Sir Edward watched as a look of abject misery flashed over the lad’s face before the boy controlled himself, put his chin up and said, “I must get home before anyone realizes I am gone.”
Ah, thought Sir Edward, just as I surmised, out on a lark. Perhaps I should teach the boy a lesson and keep him out such places for a bit?
“It is late, no one will know that you are gone,” Sir Edward offered. “Stay a bit. Enjoy a bumper of ale with me and my friend.”
“Please sir, I have no wish to be rude, but I must be going.”
At that moment, the boy turned and went visibly rigid as Jules approached. The boy lowered his head and Sir Edward had no doubt that this lad recognized Jules as someone he knew.
Right, he had no wish to get the lad into trouble, but he did want him to remember that all such larks had a price. He reached out just as the boy started to turn and his hand skimmed across the lad’s midriff and caught him firmly.
The lad used some force as he yanked free and tried to run. Dark eyes looked up and pleaded as the boy whispered, “Please sir, do let me go.”
Sir Edward released him, but in his rush the lad tripped, reeled and Sir Edward reached once more to catch him as he fell. What he felt in his arms, he thought, couldn’t be a lad. No, what was he thinking? It must be a lad, perhaps younger and therefore softer…and what he thought were full breasts…no…couldn’t be?
The child murmured a thank you and rushed off, leaving Sir Edward with two things, a button, and a serious doubt.
Sir Edward examined the button and recognized the insignia of Berkley. Well well, young gentry sowing some wildness? Not a lad, but perhaps a Berkley female, looking for her lover? Or was he wrong and it was a young boy and he was off about what he felt? He was, after all, quite in his cups. He stuffed the button in his pocket.
Jules finally released himself from an acquaintance who had pulled him aside. However, this acquaintance seemed to be determined to keep him there, so Edward took pity on his friend who sent him a look that called for help. “I say, Jules…ready?”
Jules was able to disengage himself and hurried toward Sir Edward, took a long drag of air and said, “Lord save me from such as he! When I settle down and enter politics, it won’t be to do what m’father did and his father before him. Change is coming and it should. We aren’t living in the dark ages.” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and asked, “Who was that boy? Someone you know?”
“No…just a lad,” he answered with a half smile. “Now, we shall have to fetch my old cob and make our way to your home my friend, for I do intend to drink you under the table and hope to be unconscious for a week.”
Jules laughed and said with surprise, “Your old cob? What mean you? A cob? How is it you are riding a cob?”
Chapter Three
STAR CLOSED THE front door at her back, and released a long breath of air as she exclaimed out loud, “Whew! Well done, Miss Berkley, well done.” She meant to watch her brother carefully from here on in. He may be older, but if he thought he could deal with such odious men and come out clean, he hadn’t a lick of sense. Indeed, it might have brought him a few sou to stave off the creditors, but at what price?
She whipped off her woolen cap, and rushed up the main staircase, down the wide corridor and stopped at the door of her brother’s room. Carefully, she opened the door and found him sitting up with a lit candle beside his bed. She walked right in and plopped on the edge of his large bed to murmur his name and shake her head. “Vern. That was the most horrible experience I have ever had. I should lecture you from now till morning, but I won’t. Ask me ever again to do something like that and I shall snub you silly!”
“Aye and it is all my fault,” he said hoarsely and looked miserable.
She eyed him and realized his face was flushed. His cheeks were red and there was a bead of sweat on his forehead.
Clucking her tongue, Star rose and hurried to his side to put a hand to his forehead and exclaimed fretfully, “Oh no! You are still quite feverish.”
“Am I? I do feel better,” he answered and waved off the problem with a lazy swish of his hand. “Now tell me, what happened. What did Farley say?”
“Hush, I will tell you all, but do not excite yourself,” she arched a look at him and then released a long sigh. “I found Farley—horrid beast of a man. I delivered your message and all is as it should be. I did not pretend to be you as you wished. It never would have worked. I said I was a cousin.”
He sank back against his pillows, “You are the most wonderful sister.”
She realized that he was humiliated by what he had been forced to tell her and ask her to do in his stead. She saw now that it had been soul draining for him.
He looked pitiful in his misery as he exclaimed, “That I sent you amongst cutthroats, smugglers and thieves. Ye gods, but I am the worst of brothers!”
“Nonsense. I was in disguise and am very good at play acting,” she smiled encouragingly at him. “I will not try and bamboozle you Vern. You know as I do, that you were wrong, however, what has passed, is over and you will never engage in such conduct again—right? You promise me?”
“I cannot promise you that,” he murmured.
“What the deuce do you mean?” she demanded in unladylike terms. “You must promise me that…Vern.”
“I am tired, sis,” he answered with a weak smile. “We’ll talk later.”
She frowned, but she could see his illness had indeed taken its toll. She patted his hand and left him to sleep.
As she made her way to her own room, she wrung her hands. What could he mean? He could not continue doing what he had been doing. It was so much
more than wrong. It was a serious crime and this evening could never be repeated. She had been so fortunate that Jules had not seen her, really seen her for he would have known at once that it was she. Jules, sweet Jules—such a good man, a handsome man and he had become increasingly…friendly as of late.
* * *
“Ye gods! Draw back the flaming drapes at once!” Sir Edward bellowed at his loudest as a ray of sunlight hit him fully in the face and caused him exquisite pain. “What in thunder are you doing?”
The young serving boy made haste to correct his error, mumbled an apology and set things in order for his employer’s guest. He bowed himself out of the room and hurried off.
Sir Edward pulled himself into a sitting position in the darkened room and ran his hands through his ginger colored locks. He made a valiant effort to remember who he was. As dawning came to him, he sighed and now armed with who he was, he set himself the task of discovering where he was.
His location was totally foreign and after this proved impossible to recall, he gave it up and sank back against his pillows and groaned.
He was not allowed more than a short respite.
A man’s heavy thumping strides on the oak flooring outside his door reverberated in his head. This no sooner stopped and gave him relief when the loud damning thud of knocking began, accompanied by the gleeful sound of a man much pleased with himself. “Edward! Ed…I say, Ed! Are you awake ‘ole boy?”
The door opened and a stream of daylight poured through as the corridor outside his room opened onto a large balcony overlooking the central hall and central staircase where floor to ceiling windows allowed in the light.
Jules walked in and said, “What? Still in bed? It is nearly noon.” He strode across the Oriental rug and drew back the drapes with gusto.
“Bloody hell. If I don’t die in the next few moments, I shall rise up and murder you!” Sir Edward advised his friend.
Jules laughed and Edward winced.
“Got a headache, eh? Well, no wonder. You would drink that brandy after all that ale you guzzled down. I warned you. Look at me, fit and ready.”
“Fiend! Devil’s minion. If I look at you, it will be to get my hands around your throat. Now, have pity on a dying man and allow him to do that one thing in peace.” Edward returned hoarsely.
For an answer to this, Jules flung back the quilt with merry abandon and commanded, “Up I say! Want you to bear me company to the Grange.” Then because Edward attempted to escape once more with whatever cover he could find, he grappled with him and yelled dramatically, “Edward…if ever I needed you, it is now!”
Sir Edward heard this and collapsed on his back and groaned, “Zounds! He needs me.”
Jules chuckled, “Come on, some toast and coffee is what will set you to rights. The ride, the fresh air, all of it will do you good.”
“Ride? Fresh air? You aren’t worried about anything doing me any good. You said you need me and before I budge, you will explain.” Sir Edward said holding his head. He did sit up a bit and made a valiant attempt to focus on his friends’ face.
A knock sounded at the open door and Jules said, “Ah…here it is. Come in lad.”
The same servant Edward had just banished appeared and haltingly entered the room.
“Come on, no one shall bite you,” Jules said on a chuckle.
A tray was presented to Jules. He reached for it and took a glass and nodded for his servant to leave. Turning toward Edward who regarded him warily he shoved the glass at him and said, “Here, drink this.”
Edward eyed the glass of red liquid with great misgiving. “What in thunder is that?”
“Tomato juice and soda water. Do you good.”
“You seem determined to do me good this morning,” Sir Edward returned dryly. He did indeed take the glass from him and drank it down. It wasn’t the first time he had had a similar concoction. This done, he made an inaudible sound and sighed.
“Edward ‘ole boy. Last night you talked about Lethe’s Stream. Said you needed a bumper of it to make you forget the Lady Babs. Said you couldn’t bear to think how easily you had fooled yourself into thinking she might care for you.” Jules paused a moment and his eyebrow went up. “Well, Lethe’s Stream is only a fable and brandy didn’t really do the trick, did it?”
Sir Edward eyed his friend ruefully. “Point? Get to the point.”
“Well, couldn’t help but notice ‘ole boy, it wasn’t the girl you talked about so much, but the losing her to someone else. Hurt your monumental pride.” Jules grinned, but took a step back as Sir Edward glared at him. “Sorry my friend, but it just seems to me you weren’t as taken with her as you say you were.”
“Really?”
Jules laughed, “Don’t glint those hazel eyes at me! You look like a tiger about to pounce.”
“Do I? Perhaps I shall,” Edward returned on a low note.
“Now, don’t get your back up Edward,” Jules’s hands went up. “The thing is, put it behind you, as I have done.” Jules’ tone took on a slightly superior note.
Sir Edward eyed him. He wasn’t about to quarrel with his friend, but he felt his rising temper heat his blood. He calmed himself and managed to say sardonically, “As you have done, Jules?”
“Aye, that’s it.” Jules answered brightly and looked encouraged. “That’s why I want us to ride over to the Grange this morning.”
“You seem more than a little animated about a ride to some grange?” Sir Edward stared hard at his friend’s face.
“Am I? Animated you say?” Jules returned vaguely.
“It would appear the brandy has clouded my understanding,” Edward returned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “What has riding to this place to do with anything you have said to me this morning?”
“Nearly afternoon,” Jules returned. “I’ll explain on the way there. I have had a bath drawn for you down the hall. Wash up and perhaps I will even feed you before we leave.”
Sir Edward groaned and held his head.
Jules grinned, “Write out some instructions for your people and I will have someone take them over to Brighton and collect your things.”
On this note, Jules left his friend to do the tasks he had been assigned. Edward stared at the closed door. Had he somehow fallen deeper into hell?
Chapter Four
HE WAS A Dapple Gray. He stood sixteen hands and his black mane and tail were thick and luxurious. At that moment his head and his tail were held high with stallion pride. He snorted and pranced. Star laughed out loud as she watched him in the stud paddock. His name was Berkley’s Choice. He had won seven out of eight starts at Ascot.
He danced toward her and she cooed to him. She fed him the last carrot she had brought with her and he nuzzled her for more. She lost her balance on the post fence and nearly fell off the rail she had been perched upon. “Oh Choice, fie!” she laughed an objection.
He nuzzled her some more and she wagged a finger before petting his fine face. “Now stop that, sir.”
He was their prize and had already brought in quite a stud fee for his services that season. It was enough to cover the expenses of keeping their prime bloods at Berkley Grange.
A sound in the distance caught his attention and his ears went forward alertly as he scanned the long drive. She turned to have a look.
“Now, just what do you see?” What she saw at that moment was discouraging. Ill kept lawns, trees and evergreens in need of shaping and pruning, weeds in the flower beds and their long drive to the house was badly rutted. How could she help but sigh and remember another time when Berkley looked so different, so very fine.
The stallion nodded his head and his nostrils flared. Star reached up to stroke his nose again, but he wouldn’t look at her as he stared down the long drive. She shook her head and asked, “What is it, young man? What has you so bothered?” She sighed, “The season is over for you, as we don’t have any other mares listed to be bred.” It was then, that she heard the clip-clop of hors
eshoes hitting stones and her own attention returned to the driveway. “Faith! Who can that be?”
Star saw the outline of two male riders coming toward her and frowned as she tried to read their features. All at once she realized…one was Jules and the other was his friend, the man who had stopped her last evening when she had been in disguise.
Oh no! Dash it all. What now? Would he recognize her? No, no, how could he? She had to calm herself. She simply had to.
She stayed right where she was and put on a welcoming smile. She would just have to brave it through.
* * *
“Wait till you clap eyes on her, Edward,” Jules said with some liveliness. “Her hair is the color of…” He sought in vain to find an adjective and sighed to call it, “spun gold, but lighter in color…thick in texture.”
Sir Edward’s only interest was the fact that he had a button in his pocket with the Berkley crest, the same at the entrance of the Grange. He had a vague memory of a young lad as well. All the rest Jules went on and on about had begun to bore him and he said, “I think you have told me that once or twice already, Jules.”
“Did I? Well, gold is not the right word. It is nearly white…no…it is the color of cornsilk. That is the color! Cornsilk with a hint of gold threaded throughout.”
“Cornsilk?” Edward said dubiously.
“Yes, yes, but so much lovelier and she wears it short. Actually, it is shorter than what I like, but I have imagined what it would look like draping down to her waist.”
“How short does she wear it?” Edward was momentarily diverted.
“Very… to her neck and swept back, most odd…but there is never saying what a woman will get into her head to do,” Jules answered thoughtfully.
Edward laughed, “You are an incurable romantic and make me quite sick.”
Jules nearly stood in his stirrups with sudden excitement, “Edward! Do but look…she is there…right there…a goddess in blue.” He waved to her and called, “Miss Berkley—ho there!”
Edward regarded his friend with astonishment. He was acting like a lad not yet weaned, for mercy’s sake. As their horses brought them closer, he surveyed the ‘goddess’ in question and his eyebrows arched with surprise.