by Julia Parks
Max sniffed the amber liquid and gave a grunt. Handing her the sherry, he said, "Drink this right down. It may not solve any problems, but I find a good drink can clear the head like nothing else."
She took a sip, wrinkling her nose. He touched her hand, and she took another swallow before returning it to him.
"Now, what can your two Sir Miltons do to come to your aid, fair Iseult?" asked Max, the question making her smile.
"I do not think there is anything you can do, Mr. Darby. It is about my mare, Early Girl. Papa is going to sell her."
"All this over a horse," muttered Tristram, earning a glare from both occupants of the couch. He sank onto a chair and pursed his lips.
"The mare you brought from home? Why ever would he do such a thing?" asked Max.
"It is money again. It is always money."
"Well, yes, it does often come down to that," said Max glumly. "Still, there must be some other way. Why does he not sell Thunderlight? You have no great emotional attachment to him yet, do you?"
"No, not really. Oh, he is a sweet goer, but it is not the same as when one has watched a horse be foaled. You spend hours earning her trust, gentling her, teaching her ... I am sorry. I am just rattling on," said Kate.
"Not at all. I know just how you feel. So what about Thunderlight?"
"I asked Papa, but he reminded me that our stallion is getting on up there, and that we need new blood in the line, and Thunderlight. . . well, you can imagine how delighted my father was to win him."
Max nodded and said, "Just so. Then we must think of something else. When is he going to put the mare on the block?"
"Thursday, at Tattersall's, and being a lady, I cannot even go and watch," said Kate.
"Would you wish to do so?" asked Max.
"Oh, yes. At least I would know what sort of person has bought her. Oh, Mr. Darby, I do not know if I can bear it," said Kate, taking his hand and squeezing it.
The tears threatened to overflow, and it seemed only natural when he pulled her against his chest to comfort her. His arms around her, Kate felt the weight of the world slip from her shoulders. Mr. Darby, Mr. Max Darby, would think of something.
A moment passed, and she straightened and whispered, "I should be going."
"What? Oh, yes, but perhaps it would be best if you go back through the garden gate," said Max, rising and giving her his hand.
"What garden gate?" asked Tristram.
Ignoring him, Kate agreed and allowed Max to lead her into the garden. At the gate, he bowed over her hand, kissing the back of it lightly.
"Never fear, fair Iseult, Sir Milton will see you clear of this bramble."
"Thank you, Sir Milton," she said, managing a smile for him before slipping through the garden gate.
When Max returned to the drawing room a few minutes later, his brow was furrowed as he pondered Kate's problem.
After several moments, he snapped his fingers and said, "I have it, Tris. I will arrange another match race for Thunderlight. With the winnings, Kate's father will have another horse, a different horse, to sell at Tattersall's on Thursday!"
Tristram groaned, "Max, this is where you got into trouble last time. What's more, it is how Miss O'Connor's father won the stallion in the first place."
"Yes, but I was not riding him. Do not concern yourself over this, Tristram. I will handle everything. You'll see! Everything will be fine!"
"Have you lost your mind?" asked Tristram.
"Not at all," Max replied, sitting down at the desk which was usually Tristram's spot. He picked up a leaf of paper and then the pen, thinking for a moment before dipping it in the inkstand and beginning to write.
Tristram wandered closer to peered over his shoulder.
"Palmer? Nance? What the devil are you doing?"
"I am making a list of people who make a habit of purchasing horses that are too much for them to handle. They like their cattle to be the best, the fastest, but on the whole, they are the most abysmal horsemen. They
do not realize this, of course, so it makes them easier, uh, targets."
"I didn't think Palmer was like that," said Tristram.
"Perhaps not as much as some of the others, but he irritated me the other night at Lady Murray's ball when he mentioned my losing Thunderlight—as if / ever would have lost him!"
"Max, use your common sense for a moment. This is wrong."
"Wrong? To help a damsel in distress? I thought that is what you are always going on about in those stories of yours. And if you base this Sir Milton on me, then you must know that I will do whatever it takes to help the damsel."
"But Max, Thunderlight is not yours to lose, as some of these gentlemen may point out to you."
"No, but with Kate there as the owner, they'll bite. At least one of them will. Don't worry, little brother. I know what I am doing."
"Seems to me that is the same thing Papa would say just before he loses another wager," said Tristram, not even flinching when Max pushed back the chair abruptly and glared at him. "I am just telling you what I see."
His teeth clenched, Max ground out, "Do not ever compare me to our father like that again. I am not some fool throwing away good money after bad. I would never consider this if it weren't for Kate. I get nothing out of this."
"Nothing? What about Miss O'Connor's admiration? Have you stopped to ask yourself what she thinks about your role in this? Do you wonder if perhaps she will view this as tantamount to a proposal of marriage?"
"A proposal... bah! You are well out on that score!"
"Am I? Will she not ask herself why her handsome neighbor is going to such extraordinary lengths to help her keep her beloved mare? Might she not think it is because you are trying to win her affection?"
"You know, this habit you have adopted of asking questions one after the other is very annoying." Looking away, Max took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. "Do you really think I am encouraging her to think that?"
"I do," said Tristram.
"Then I will have to talk to her, to explain to her that ... that it has nothing to do with ... that if she has any idea of marriage to me, then ..."
Max spun on his heel and marched to the door.
"Where are you going now?" asked Tristram.
"Next door. I never did pay that call. I think it is time."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I think one Darby brother paying an unannounced call on our neighbor is quite enough." Pausing at the door, Max grinned and added, "Besides which, I really do not need any witnesses to my foolishness."
Max hurried out the door and down the front steps, retracing his path. This time, his knock was answered by a respectable-looking footman who took his card and asked him to wait in the hall while he ascertained if his mistress was receiving.
A moment later, the servant returned and ushered Max up the stairs to the drawing room.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Darby. I have heard a great deal about you," said a tall, thin man with wispy red hair and a mild Irish accent.
"Good afternoon, Mr. O'Connor. I have heard a thing or two about you, too," he replied.
"Allow me to introduce my good wife."
Max executed a bow over her hand and said, "How do you do, Mrs. O'Connor. After our little contretemps in the park yesterday, I feel I already know you."
Her laugh was musical, and she motioned to him to take the chair beside the sofa. "I was never so pleased to see a stranger, I can tell you, Mr. Darby. You saved all of us from that horrible woman. Oh, I do beg your pardon. She must be a friend of yours."
"A ... an acquaintance, merely. I... I have a particular interest in her daughter," he confessed baldly. There, that should quickly get back to Kate, and she would know he did not have any designs on her in that respect.
"Oh? Should we offer you congratulations?"
"No, no, not yet. I have only . . . but there, this is hardly a proper topic for us, having only just met."
"Quite right," said Mr
. O'Connor. "The young man has probably called to see if he can visit the stables and see his old horse, Thunderlight."
"That would be wonderful, but I am also calling on your daughter. I met her at Lady Murray's ball," he lied. "And then yesterday, in the park, I was quite impressed with her quick thinking, which kept the carriage horses from bolting. I hope she did not suffer any lasting discomfort."
"From holding the ribbons for a couple of silly carriage horses? Hardly likely, my boy. Obviously, you are not well acquainted with my Kate," said the father with pride.
"As I said, sir, I have met her only twice," said Max, looking around the drawing room as if expecting to discover her lurking in a far corner. "Is she here this afternoon?"
"Why don't you ring for the footman to go up and see, my dear?" said Mrs. O'Connor. While her husband did as she requested, she asked, "Are you visiting in London, Mr. Darby, or do you make your home here?"
"Actually, my brother and I are visiting, and as luck would have it, we are next door to you."
"How extraordinary. Then you must come for tea one afternoon, both you and your brother."
"That would be wonderful, ma'am. I shall look forward to it."
"So you are also a great lover of horses," she commented.
"Yes, they are a passion of mine. I'm afraid while I am in London, I make do with horses from the Marquess of Cravenwell's stable. He is ... an old family friend."
"I see," said the matron.
As usual, mention of the marquess in polite company put an end to most conversation. The man's reputation was legendary.
"Kate will be right down. She said she wants to thank you for rescuing them from the beast," said Mr. O'Connor.
The glimmer of a smile crossed Max's face at this. O'Connor had not specified whether the beast he mentioned was the pet monkey or Mrs. Beauchamp. Max rather thought he would say the latter.
"You're a trifle large to be racing, but you must have a way with the horses if the stories I have heard about all those match races you won last spring are true, Mr. Darby."
"I do not know what you have heard, Mr. O'Connor, but I did manage to win every time. I think it was due more to Thunderlight than to me."
"Spoken like a true horseman," said the older man with a nod of approval. "I have to admit that I am quite happy you were not riding the stallion the day I set my gelding against him. It might have turned out quite differently."
"No doubt about it," said Max cheerfully.
"You're sure about that?" said the Irishman.
"Well, there is only one way to tell, isn't there? I could ride Thunderlight against your gelding and see what happened."
O'Connor slapped his thigh and said, "By Jove, so you could! We may well have to arrange that, my boy."
"Ah, here is our Kate," said Mrs. O'Connor.
Max rose until Kate had taken the seat beside her mother.
"Kate, I understand you met Mr. Darby at your aunt's ball. You did not mention it that evening."
"I met so many people," she said, smiling at him.
Max returned that smile. "We did not quite understand that we lived next door to each other, or I would have called before. I trust you suffered no lasting harm yesterday ... in the park," he added when she looked puzzled.
"Oh, no, I am fine, thank you. How kind of you to call and inquire, Mr. Darby."
"It has been a pleasure becoming acquainted with your charming mother and father."
"This is the young man who used to ride our Thunder-light," said her father.
"Indeed? You must miss him terribly," said Kate, her green eyes dancing.
"As anyone would, who truly cared for a horse," replied Max. "Do you ride, Miss O'Connor?"
Her father snorted, and Kate said politely, "Yes, I do, Mr. Darby."
"Perhaps we might go for a ride in the park one afternoon."
"That would be delightful, Mr. Darby."
"On Thursday, perhaps?"
"That would be all right, would it not, Mama?"
"Well, I suppose so, dear," said the matron, fixing Max with a puzzled frown. "Though we shall understand, of course, if Mr. Darby has other interests that prevent him from escorting you."
"Other interests? Why, I cannot think of anything. Do you prefer to ride in the morning or the afternoon?"
"Shall we say eleven o'clock?" she said.
"Eleven it is," replied Max, rising to leave.
Bowing to the ladies, he mouthed the word "garden" and made his departure.
Kate nodded and bade him good-bye.
"I am sorry it took me so long," whispered Kate, joining Max on the bench on his side of the garden wall. Seeing his open, handsome face made her heart dance, and she pursed her lips and frowned, trying to quell this madness. She hardly knew the man!
"It hasn't been so long. An hour perhaps," said Max, smiling down at her. "I am glad you could get away."
"I had a fitting, and ... oh, how I despise London and all of the constraints it puts on me," said Kate, her green eyes flashing with defiance.
"But I thought the objective of all young ladies was to come to London and find the man of their dreams," said Max. "It never occurred to me, I suppose, that anyone would not like it here."
"Most young ladies are like that, I suppose, but I am not in the least excited by the prospect of balls and such.
What I really want is to get my hands on enough money to go back home with my mare and live in peace."
Kate watched his face as he digested this information. She tried to ignore the niggling hope that his expression would register disappointment—disappointment that she might not want to become a part of his world.
His eyes, however, showed only puzzlement, and he said, "The mare your father is selling to finance the Season you did not even want."
Her chin held high, Kate said, "Yes, that's the one. Ironic, is it not?"
He smiled again, his blue eyes twinkling. "Then you will be delighted when I tell you that I have come up with a plan."
"You have?" she exclaimed with a little squeal before shushing herself and leaning closer to him.
"Certainly. I know what it is like to have no money, to have to sell the thing that you love. We are friends, are we not, Kate? I want to help you. I mean, my own future and happiness will soon be secure. I want to do what I can to secure yours."
Kate smiled up at him. How could she not? He had no idea that her feelings for him had changed, but he still wanted to help her. He really was like Sir Milton.
"What is your plan, Mr. Darby?" she asked eagerly.
"We have had the means all along," he said.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't you see? Thunderlight. You can race him again. There are always young men up from the country who think they have a chance to beat him. Men who rate their own mounts and horsemanship too highly."
"But, Max, I cannot do that! What would happen when Papa found out? And you know he would! And
then Mama would learn of it and become upset. I would be ruined—not that I care, but Mama does. I simply cannot do it," she said dolefully, not even realizing she had called him by his given name.
In return, Max said, "Not you, Kate ... me!"
He sat back, his arms folded across his chest, supremely confident that he had saved the day. Kate frowned a moment and then her face cleared, a growing smile on her lips.
"Oh, Max! How clever of you! Papa and Mama may learn of it and be angry, but they cannot accuse me of ruining my reputation. It is the perfect scheme!" said Kate, throwing her arms around his neck.
Then his lips met hers, and Kate felt a jolt of excitement course through her veins. In amazement, she kissed him back. After a moment, she withdrew her arms, and he lifted his head, grinning at her from ear to ear.
Kate sat back, her own eyes glowing with some undefined emotion. She quickly looked away, though she knew he had not noticed. She could tell from his fervent gaze that he was already picturing himself riding Thunderli
ght to victory.
"When and how?" she asked in a detached tone.
"Ah, leave that to me, my dear. I will take care of everything. I will send you word tomorrow. Now, you had better go. Wouldn't do for your parents to discover you here with me. Not yet."
Kate rose and went to the gate, pausing to look back at him. He had already forgotten his shocking kiss and was completely oblivious to its effect on her.
So much for Max Darby being her Sir Milton, her shining knight.
Five
Kate was in a better frame of mind by that evening when she was dressing for the theater. Maxwell Darby might not be her ideal knight, but he had devised a method for her to keep her beloved Early Girl. It was not foolproof, but it was as close to a sure thing as she had ever seen.
And while Max might hold a certain fascination for her, she prided herself on her practicality. First things first. Let him win another horse for her father to sell at auction. Then she would see if there was a reason to hope for more.
Kate grinned at her image, causing Dolly, who was arranging her red curls, to smile and tease, "You have a bloom in your cheeks, Miss Kate. You must be thinking of some young man."
"Nonsense, it is simply hot in here. That is why I am flushed. Why do you not open a window?" asked Kate, fanning her face with her hand.
"Window or no, miss, you cannot put anything past old Dolly."
"Nonsense," said Kate, but she grinned at the maid.
Just then the door opened and her mother, dressed in a pale lilac evening gown, entered the room.
"Oh, you look beautiful, Mama."
"A right treat for the eyes, madam," agreed the maid.
"You are too kind," she said, floating into the room and sitting on Kate's bed so that her image was in the dressing mirror.
"Did you want something, Mama?" asked Kate after watching her mother mutilate a lace handkerchief.
"Yes, I ... oh, it is so unpleasant, but you know that I called on your aunt this afternoon, after meeting our neighbor." Her mother's gaze met hers in the mirror.