by Mariel Grey
"Good man, John. I have no doubt you've done an admirable job segregating the horses. You always do excellent work."
John beamed. "Thank you, My Lord. Do you know when we'll be moving the mares?"
"Not exactly, though I'll be meeting with Lucien Goodwin the day after tomorrow to finalize matters. How long do you think it will take you to actually transport the mares to the Goodwin stables once we’re ready?"
"So as not to stress the girls, let's say three, maybe four days."
"Excellent. I'd like feedback from Lucien on the mares before we move them. I expect that will entail him making a trip here beforehand to help select them. I'm sure you wouldn't mind a chance to meet him." Chalifour glanced at his Stable Master, awaiting his reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.
John's face lit up and a wide smile split his face. "I see! Well then, that's wonderful! I'll be looking forward to meeting Mr. Goodwin and getting his measure on the mares. Maybe he could give me a few pointers on riding as well. He's the best jockey I've ever seen! And I've seen some good ones. Anytime he's racing, I always place my wager on him."
"You and half of England!" Chalifour laughed and John joined in.
"I daresay he's one of the most honest too," John said.
"Yes, I would agree his reputation is solid. Aside from the fact I believe his blood horses are some of the finest in England, his reputation is another reason I sought to align my business interests with him as opposed to some of the other owners."
"I know ethics are important to you, My Lord. It does my heart good to see you've worked so diligently to elevate the sport. Your efforts at eliminating corruption and cheating have made a difference. Maybe one day the King's Sport will really deserve that moniker."
Chalifour smiled. "I hope so."
Leaving John at the stable, Chalifour returned to the mansion to sift through his correspondence. His recent neglect had transformed the small pile of paper into a large stack. Chalifour should have been resigned to tackling the desultory task, instead, a whistle escaped his lips. After all these years, his dream of breeding the finest thoroughbreds in England, or anywhere else for that matter, was close to becoming a reality.
The image of his mother's face entered Chalifour’s mind. She would have been thrilled. They had shared this dream, but she would not see its fulfillment. Melancholy abruptly swept through him, choking off his whistle. I'll make this happen, Mother. Thoroughbred racing will continue to become more respected without any taint of corruption and our horses will set the standard.
Chapter Three
Dawn's light peeked through the drapes the following morning and Lucy hurriedly dressed in her customary black, holding fast to a tenuous hope Lucien had improved during the night. Lucy entered Lucien's bedchamber clinging to her fragile hope and encountered Alistair sponging her brother's forehead. Lucien showed no discernible reaction to the man’s gentle ministrations and her hopes faded.
A soft tap sounded on Lucien's door. "Miss Goodwin?"
"Yes? Come in."
Cedric entered the room and presented a silver and calling card to her. "Ms. Goodwin, the Viscount of Perdan is here to see Mr. Goodwin. What should I tell him?"
She and Alistair glanced at each other. Lucy said, "Show him to the salon and let him know he will be received. Don't say anything else."
"Yes, Miss Goodwin."
Lucy eyed Cedric. "Did Lord Perdan happen to state the reason for his call?"
"No, only that he was here to call on Mr. Goodwin."
"Thank you. I'll be down shortly. Remember, tell him only that he will be received, nothing else. I don't want him to know just yet that it is I who will be receiving him instead of Mr. Goodwin. And send Millie to me immediately. I need help dressing."
Lucy scurried to her room. Her jumbled thoughts clanged around in her head. She wished her dearest friend, Lady Monique Cathdon, sister to Lord William Cathdon, Duke of Glenhurst, was here to help her think things through. It had been nearly ten months since she last saw her friend in Town. Lucy was certain of only one thing. She couldn't let anyone know how serious her brother's injuries truly were. That could prove disastrous if she intended to run the business while Lucien convalesced.
Lucy stared into the mirror and grimaced. She reached up to touch the pale skin. Her usual rosy bloom was missing. A dreadful shade of red tinged her green eyes. Perhaps she should wear something other than black to lessen her paleness. It certainly couldn't hurt! In fact, Lucy doubted anything could make her appear any less attractive than the image staring back at her.
Lucy was nearing the end of her mourning period. Surely no one would think it inappropriate to dispense with the black attire she wore in honor of her father? The image of her father's face floated appeared briefly before her and her hand flew to her chest to massage the area around her heart. No, a change in her wardrobe may improve her appearance, but it would not ease the pain.
Rifling through the contents of her armoire, Lucy settled on a simple white muslin gown crammed into the back. She pulled the dress out and held its pale fabric up to the light. While she fretted over the suitability of the dress, Millie entered her room without knocking.
"Cedric said there was a caller and you needed me." Looking her up and down, Millie said "Cedric was right. You do need me. You're a fright."
"Well, then, don't stand there, Millie. Help me get dressed! I don't want to keep Lord Perdan waiting!"
Lucy donned her chemise and petticoat. Millie helped her into the gown, fastening the buttons and adjusting the lacy chemisette over Lucy’s bosom. Millie then attacked Lucy’s unruly curls with the hairbrush and hairpins to make her hair at least somewhat presentable.
Finished, Millie stood back, looked at her appraisingly, and said, "I can't do anything about the redness of your eyes, but I can fix the paleness." She leaned forward, reached out with both hands and pinched Lucy's cheeks.
"Ouch!" Lucy yelped, rubbing one cheek with her hand.
"Well, it might have hurt a little. But at least you don't look like a cadaver now."
Lucy glared at her. "You might have warned me."
Millie shrugged. "Best get downstairs now."
One last glance in the mirror assured Lucy it was the best she could hope for on short notice. Millie could work wonders, but she couldn't work miracles. "Thank you, Millie." She turned and walked from the room and descended the staircase.
****
Lucy stood outside the salon door, inhaled and counted to ten before exhaling. She smoothed her skirt, squared her shoulders, and swept into the salon, closing the door behind her.
"Lord Perdan, what an unexpected pleasure. My brother is currently indisposed and unable to greet you himself, so I felt it only proper I greet you in his stead."
Cedric tapped on the salon door and interrupted their conversation. He opened the door and walked into the room carrying a tea trey. After setting the trey on a table in the corner, Cedric turned and asked, "May I pour for you?"
Lucy didn't lock her tea in a tea caddy as most households did so Cedric had prepared tea for their guest. The Goodwins always treated their servants well and trusted them implicitly. Their father had often reminded them of their own humble beginnings in the servant class.
With relief, Lucy noted Cedric had the foresight to set out the best china cups in the Cornelia Green pattern by Mottahedeh. It was one of her favorites. The matching plates were a pale green with colorful flowers that lined the rim of the plate. Each plate had a single delicate butterfly that lined the rim of the plate. It was an excellent choice by Cedric to make good impression on their exalted guest.
Lucy smiled gratefully at Cedric. "No Cedric, I'll manage the tea. Thank you."
Cedric exited the room and closed the door behind him.
Lord Perdan cleared his throat. "Miss Goodwin, while I am sorry your brother is currently indisposed, his indisposition has at least brought me the distinct pleasure of your company."
Lucy gazed into Perd
an's handsome face. His short, golden hair was combed forward and fashionably tousled. The smile on Perdan’s face failed to reach his pale, ice blue eyes. There was something off Lucy couldn’t quite identify. Maybe it was the way Perdan’s eyes followed her.
Perdan stepped in close, much closer than propriety would allow. Internal warnings blared in her mind and Lucy willed herself not to step away. With great effort, Lucy suppressed a shudder and looked up at Perdan, an uneasy smile on her face.
"Let me speak frankly. The news is your brother has been injured and may not survive. Is that true?"
How much does he know? Who else knows? How does he know? Fighting a mild panic, Lucy stalled, "Could I interest you in some tea, Lord Perdan?"
"Let me not mince words. The reason I am here is your brother owes me a debt. A large debt. And I expect payment, soon."
Trying not to show dismay, Lucy asked, "How much money are we speaking of, Lord Perdan?"
"He owes me six thousand quid."
Lucy's knees nearly buckled and her mind screamed. How could we owe so much?
"I've been very patient, but my patience is wearing thin."
Lucy gulped and exhaled slowly. Think, think. Trying to steady her voice, Lucy said "I must naturally speak with my brother, Lord Perdan." Of course, there’s no way that will be possible any time soon, she failed to add.
"Really? When? Today, tomorrow. Maybe next year? That simply won't do. I notice you didn’t answer me as to the severity of your brother's injuries."
"Well,
Perdan’s hand lashed out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him. He lowered his face close toward hers and his lips curved slowly into a sardonic smile. Lucy tried to pull her arm from his grasp, but Perdan held her tight.
"I like women to fight. Go ahead, fight some more.”
Lucy stopped struggling and said nothing.
"Miss Goodwin, I don't think you understand. Your brother, and by extension you, are in my debt, and I expect payment. Though perhaps ... ," his eyes bored into hers, "we could make some alternative arrangements for payment in your case." He licked his lips slowly.
Fear began to worm its way into Lucy’s belly. She stood still and remained silent.
"After all, a man, or a woman," he smiled, "has to pay their debts or face disgrace. You wouldn’t want that now, would you?" Perdan reached out and traced a finger traced along the curve of Lucy’s jawbone line. A tide of revulsion rose from her belly at the unwanted familiarity in his touch.
Perdan pulled her closer."Why, we could start today. You know, woman love me. I could teach you things," he whispered into her ear.
Her skin crawled and fear trickled up Lucy’s spine. Gathering every bit of strength she had, Lucy wrenched herself away from him. It was only a touch to her face, but there was something unaccountably wrong with it, and with him. Was it a hint of cruelty? She could picture him as a child pulling the wings from flies and laughing.
Quelling tremors, in as frosty a tone as she could manage, Lucy said, "I believe it’s time for you to leave."
"Pity. I’m sure we could enjoy one another’s company. We may well yet. It remains to be seen. In the meantime, I have yet to receive payment and my patience is running short. Amazing what women will do to avoid disgrace." He smiled at her.
"I’ll expect to hear from you or your brother by the end of the week. Otherwise, I will start legal proceedings and you and your brother will be in disgrace. I’ll see myself out." Perdan sauntered from the room. At the door, he turned and smiled again at Lucy.
Lucy heard the front door close. She sank into a chair and fought the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. Lucy sat for a period of time until the fear evolved into anger. How dare Perdan threaten them and treat her like a trollop! Standing, Lucy marched across the room. Grabbing the door she fairly slammed it off the hinges. Fists clenching and unclenching, Lucy paced the floor. The rush of emotion gradually faded away and she was suddenly weary and drained.
Lucy dropped back into the chair in the corner of the room and stared numbly at the floor. She noticed inanely that the rug in the salon could stand to be replaced, or at the very least, could use a good cleaning. How many other things had she ignored? Apparently some very important things, like their financial condition.
After several minutes, Lucy pulled herself to her feet. She walked from the salon and into the hallway, footsteps heavy. Lucy had stupidly neglected to inquire into the basis for their encumbrance before she asked Perdan to leave. How could Lucien possibly owe so much money? Why had he put them in this position? If they didn’t pay Perdan, they would be disgraced. Not only would their family name suffer, so would their livelihood. Dear God, they could be ruined.
Lucy couldn’t risk asking Lucien about the debt. Even if he had moments of clarity, Dr. Willets had been adamant. Lucien mustn't be upset or worried about anything. Lucy would have to divine a way to pay Lord Perdan before they were utterly disgraced.
Lucy dragged herself up the staircase and barely registered Alistair when she passed him on the stairs. Entering Lucien's room, she sat on the bed beside him. Lucy gazed at his sleeping form for several minutes. Reaching out, she lifted his hand and pressed it to her cheek before pressing his hand between her palms.
"Lucien," she whispered. "What have you gotten into? Have you been gambling? Was father gambling? Have the stables done so poorly? What has happened? And why didn't you confide in me?" The tears glided down her cheeks. Lucien didn't respond.
Chapter Four
The following morning, Millie finished buttoning the back of Lucy’s black crepe gown. The black matched her current mood. Besides, if she wanted to be superstitious, wearing the half mourning color of white had not worked well yesterday when she met Lord Perdan. The incident had left her deeply disturbed and she had slept only fitfully last night. Lucy grimaced remembering her reflection in the mirror. Best not to dwell on that image! Perhaps some tea and toast would help, though she doubted it.
Lucy sat still and Millie brushed out her hair. The scene with Lord Perdan repeated itself over and over again in her head. With a start, Lucy realized Millie was pinning her hair into an elegant upswept style. "Millie, thank you, but there's no need to style my hair. I must go to the stables this morning and check on the horses. I really need to ride Zeus. It's his turn for a ride and I'm sure he's antsy by now. My hair won't resemble anything civilized by the time Zeus finishes with me, especially after keeping him waiting so long!"
Their grooms took excellent care of the horses. They loved the horses nearly as much as she and Lucien did. Of course, it didn’t hurt the grooms knew the horses were the source of income that ultimately paid their wages. They were not likely to be careless in their duties. Still, she would feel better if she saw the horses and touched them herself.
In the kitchen, Lucy took her customary seat at the servant's table in the kitchen. Lucien generally did the same when they were not entertaining. It was just simpler for everyone.
Knowing her proclivities, Cook placed a kettle of tea along with buttered toast and a jar of marmalade before her on the table. Her stomach rumbled. For the first time since the accident, she was famished. Lucy poured herself a steaming cup of tea and tucked into her toast.
After she finished a second slice of toast, Lucy rose and strode to the stables to see her horses. Calmness descended on her the moment she entered the cool stables. The scent of manure and hay and the gentle rustling and neighing of the horses soothed her raw nerves. "Hello Zeus, sweet boy. It's your turn for some attention now, isn't it?" In a nearby stall, Thor neighed in protest. Males! They're all the same.
After the stable boy saddled Zeus for her, Lucy mounted the horse and trotted down the road. The coolness of the morning air invigorated her and sharpened her senses, which was just as well since Zeus required a more firm hand than Thor did. Zeus and Thor were both tremendous stallions, but, oh, so temperamental sometimes.
Lucy discovered years ago she seemed to thin
k more clearly whenever she rode. The rocking motion of the horse and the fresh air and scenery often lulled her into a peaceful state of mind. Today was an exception, however, and she fretted over her conversation with Perdan the previous day.
Lucy had poured over the account ledgers the night before. Nothing in the accounts indicated an actual debt to Lord Perdan. Yet there were several large unexplained payments to him over the course of the past year.
Lucien had been paying Lord Perdan for a reason. Why? And why was the obligation still so large? What was it for? And how was she going to pay the balance? She didn't have legal access to the accounts, but she was going to need funds if she was to care for Lucien and keep their reputation and business intact.
Other creditors needed to be paid too. Items like feed needed to be purchased. It was spring foaling time. How was she going to legally sign the siring and stud contracts and collect the money? Pondering these questions, Lucy returned to the stables and started her routine of brushing Zeus, lost in thought. She had to make this work. It was imperative she keep Lucien and herself safe.
"Miss Goodwin, I believe?"
Lucy jumped. She knew that molasses smooth voice that had intruded on her reverie. The hairs along her neck stood up. What was he doing here? Spinning, Lucy found herself looking into the intense blue eyes of Lord Chalifour.
"Lord Chalifour! This is a surprise." Her heart palpitated and her breathing became erratic. Why couldn’t her body behave when this man was around?
"I apologize we were never properly introduced the last time I saw you, but I see you know who I am now. I’ve come to see your brother on a matter of business. We’ve been corresponding for months and we were scheduled to meet. I was told he was indisposed and I should speak with you, though I don't see the reason for it. I told your servants I would return in a few days on my way back to Town. I can conclude my business with him at that time. They insisted I speak with you first, however."