To Win the Lady

by Mary Nichols

  ‘For that outrageous ride to York, I suppose.’

  ‘Why outrageous?’

  ‘Why?’ she snapped. It was easier on her nerves to be angry with him; friendship she could not cope with at all. ‘Because you will ruin goodness knows how many horses and it cannot be good for you either, all those hours in the saddle. And all to salve your pride and score over a fat reprobate who puts one over on you.’

  ‘Fat reprobate,’ he repeated, grinning. ‘Is that how you describe someone who hopes to become your husband?’

  ‘He may hope,’ she said flatly.

  ‘You mean you have turned him down?’ He was suddenly very cheerful, but then he remembered her sister and was sunk again into gloom.

  ‘I have neither accepted nor rejected him, for he has never made the offer,’ she said. ‘Now, do you think we might change the subject?’

  ‘Delighted to do so, my dear Miss Paget,’ he said. `How about coming to Newmarket with me tomorrow? I need to engage a good jockey for Bright Star if she is to race next week.’

  She was about to refuse, but changed her mind. For Bright Star’s sake she wanted to meet the jockey Richard chose for her and she really ought to keep up to date with what was going on. Moreover, it would not hurt to show herself as someone to be reckoned with in the racing business. Not for a moment would she admit that a day at the races with Richard Baverstock would be a pleasure she did not want to miss.

  ‘Yes, I should like that,’ she said.

  ‘Good. I shall call for you with the curricle.’

  She made no comment, though it crossed her mind that the vehicle would not be large enough to accommodate her maid. Their only chaperon would be his tiger, if he had such a thing in the country.

  They returned to the stables and she handed Bright Star over to Dawson and asked Tom to lead out his lordship’s horses.

  ‘They’re good,’ Richard said, casting a critical eye over them. ‘Almost a perfect match.’

  ‘They are sisters.’

  ‘And they will take postillions?’

  ‘Of course, though Bess is more accustomed to being ridden than Silver.’ She paused. ‘Oh, you are not thinking what I think you are, are you?’

  He gave her a disarming smile. ‘Not unless it becomes necessary. I have to have thirty horses, Miss Paget, thirty horses with speed and stamina. What else can you offer me?’

  ‘I do not know that I want to let you have any,’ she said. ‘You know how I feel about the whole mad escapade. In fact, I should like to buy Pegasus back.’

  ‘He is not for sale. Besides, you cannot afford him; his value has gone up by leaps and bounds since I acquired him.’

  ‘You are insufferable! I’ve a mind not to come to Newmarket with you after all.’

  ‘Oh, that would be a pity,’ he said. ‘I need your help choosing a jockey and if I should make other purchases...’

  She laughed suddenly. ‘Are you saying, Major Baverstock, that you value my opinion?’

  ‘Indeed I am,’ he confirmed, doing his best to maintain a serious expression. ‘Two heads are always better than one, are they not? Do say you’ll come.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ She tried to sound offhand but the prospect was already exciting her. It had been like that the first time she had been taken there by her father. The noisy crowds, the betting, the beautiful horses, the jockeys in their colourful breeches and caps all served to create an atmosphere that was unique and heady.

  ‘Do you think Dawson can spare Tom to ride up behind?’ he asked. ‘I am not such a coxcomb as to keep a tiger.’

  He had realised the necessity for a chaperon, after all, and one of her own staff would be more acceptable than his. It was very thoughtful of him. She smiled mischievously. ‘And would you wish him to dress in black and yellow stripes?’

  ‘As he will be behind us and I shall not see what he is wearing, it is a matter of indifference to me.’ He chuckled suddenly. ‘Perhaps something a little less loud, perhaps? It would be best if we did not attract too much attention.’

  Yes, she thought, because if they were seen by anyone of the ton it would be all round the capital in a couple of days, and though the outing was innocent enough and they had a legitimate reason for going and Tom was in attendance it might just be considered too daring of her. Not that she cared for herself, but Felicity must be protected from the least whisper of gossip.

  He took his leave, leading the two new horses, and she went indoors to decide what she was going to wear the following day - certainly not a shirt and breeches.

  It had taken Fanny, with the help of Mrs Thorogood, two days to clean and repair her clothes after their mistreatment by the highwaymen and being bundled willy-nilly back into her trunk but they had done their best and most were still wearable. She picked out a jacket in a soft blue jaconet which fitted her figure closely, curving into her neat waist and then flaring out a little over a flowing skirt of shot silk. The jacket had a stand-up collar and was frogged in black across the front. Her tall hat had a curling brim and an ostrich feather which was fastened on one side and swept across the brim to brush her cheek on the other side. She offered up a little prayer of thanks to her aunt for making her buy it. Now was not the time to worry about what it had cost.

  ‘You look a treat, Miss Georgie,’ Fanny said as she twirled before her the next morning. It was not for her to criticise the actions of her beloved mistress, but she fervently hoped that no one, not Miss Georgie or Miss Felicity, or indeed that nice Major, would be hurt by it. ‘The Major is waiting downstairs.’

  Georgie went down to meet him, conscious of the excitement which bubbled up in her and was making her tremble and blush. What a ninny you are, she told herself; you are only going to the races and he is only a man. But what a man!

  He had taken equal care with his appearance. Although his mulberry-coloured coat was a civilian one, it was cut in the military style and fitted him to perfection. His plain waistcoat had silver buttons and his cravat was a pristine white tied very simply and not in the complicated fashion prevalent in London. He wore buff-coloured nankeen breeches and hessians in which it was possible to see your reflection, supposing you were to stand close enough.

  He looked up at her coming down the stairs towards him and caught his breath. Not for the first time he found himself comparing the strikingly beautiful woman she undoubtedly was with the ragamuffin urchin clad in breeches and voluminous shirt, pretending to be a man. She could never be a man, not in a thousand years, and he wished he could make her see that.

  He realised suddenly that she had reached the bottom step and he was still staring at her as if mesmerised. He pulled himself together and went towards her, taking her outstretched hand and bowing over it. It was trembling a little, he noticed, and her cheeks were pale. ‘Miss Paget, good morning,’ he said. ‘Are you quite well enough to go?’

  ‘Of course I am. And I do not intend to miss a single race, so let us by on our way. Is Tom there?’

  ‘Yes, and proud as a peacock in his Sunday go-to-church suit.’

  They approached Newmarket across the heath and arrived at the course about noon. Race week attracted all manner of people from the highest to the lowest who rubbed shoulders together, often quite literally, to the detriment of expensive tailored coats and the pockets of the same, for pickpockets also abounded.

  Everywhere people were making bets and shouting the odds. Young bloods, noisy and already half foxed, mixed with the more sober race-goers. In the paddock, the horses paraded restlessly, waiting to go to the start. Jockeys in light breeches in red, yellow, green and blue with caps to match were almost swallowed by the crowd as they made their way to be weighed in.

  As Richard drove in among the huge variety of conveyances taking up their positions all round the railing, there was a concerted shout of, ‘They’re off!’ and six horses thundered round the track to the shouted encouragement of their backers.

  Richard watched in amusement as Georgie stood up in the cur
ricle in order to see better, jumping up and down in excitement. He looked at Tom and grinned; if she did not tip them all out it would be a wonder. ‘Would you like to put a bet on the next race?’ he asked her.

  She had heard him but she was too absorbed in the race to answer until it had ended, when she sat down, almost too breathless to speak. ‘Yes, let’s go and have a closer look at the runners,’ she said when she had composed herself.

  Leaving Tom to look after the curricle, they made their way through the crowds to the paddock and after inspecting the horses she picked one out.

  ‘Right,’ he said. `I’ll back it too. You see how much faith I have in you?’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ she said. ‘What if it loses?’

  ‘Then we shall both have lost our money.’

  ‘Then, I beg of you, risk only a modest sum.’

  He laughed, almost carefree. ‘As you say, a modest sum. A guinea perhaps? It is seven to one.’

  They won on the next two races and lost on the third. After that, not being a true gambler, Georgie was reluctant to continue, but he laughed and said, ‘You can’t win them all, Georgie. Put on what you have won, then if you lose at least you won’t be out of pocket.’ He seemed not to have noticed that he had called her by her given name, and she had no intention of drawing his attention to the fact.

  ‘Very well. No more after this. And then I think we should think about finding a jockey for Bright Star. I have been watching them most carefully and there was one I thought might suit. He was in the third race.

  ‘The one you backed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He lost you your money.’

  ‘So he did, but he did well to come second and I liked the way he rode.’

  ‘Do I get a say in this? It is my horse, after all.’

  She turned to him in surprise at the reminder. They had been having such a wonderful time and the note of censure dampened her spirits, but then she noticed the twinkle in his dark eyes and relaxed. ‘I didn’t mean to dictate, but I am sure he is the best. If you don’t agree, we shall have to compromise. Tell me your choice.’

  He laughed, a deep cheerful sound, in keeping with the man himself. ‘Oh, my dear Miss Paget, I would not presume to disagree with you.’

  ‘Now you are bamming me.’

  He smiled and took her arm. ‘Let us see if he is available, shall we? And after that we’ll go to the sales ring.’

  The jockey was engaged and, after some discussion, because Georgie was convinced that stamina rather than speed was required, Richard bought two good strong horses. ‘Have them delivered to Rowan Park,’ he told the auctioneer. ‘Miss Paget will be training them.’

  If there was a snigger on the man’s face it was quickly wiped off when Richard glared at him. He shook hands on the deal and promised to have the animals at Rowan Park two days hence.

  ‘I am overwhelmed, Major,’ she said as they walked away. ‘Are you not afraid of being made a laughing stock?’

  ‘No,’ he said promptly. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Most decidedly not. I shall prove myself, you see.’

  ‘All alone?’ His voice was soft, sensuous almost, and she gave a little shiver of apprehension. She had not minded the idea of managing alone until now. Today they had done things together, laughed together, won and lost together, and they had been surprisingly at one over their choice of horses. Even the hiring of the jockey and the purchase of the mounts had produced no more than a friendly exchange. There had been no discord. Togetherness was something she had tasted for the first time today and it looked like being the last. With him as her brother-in-law, she could ask his advice, but it wouldn’t be the same.

  ‘Yes,’ she said firmly. ‘Alone but for my family. I shall always look to them for support.’

  He understood the implication of what she was saying without having to be told; he would be part of that family, her sister’s husband. He had been deliberately prevaricating, not the behaviour of an honourable man, he knew, and the longer he allowed himself to drift, the worse it would get. Tomorrow he must return to London and set matters straight.

  The sunny day suddenly became cool and the cheerful crowds seemed over-noisy and ill-mannered. He put a hand under her elbow to guide her back to the curricle, where Tom waited for them. They had almost reached it when she stopped suddenly.

  ‘Look!’ she exclaimed. ‘Those men...’

  He turned towards the group of bedraggled men she indicated. ‘What about them?’

  ‘They are the three who accosted us outside Bullock’s Museum, don’t you remember?’

  ‘So they are.’

  ‘And they rescued us when his lordship’s coach was held up the other day. Did he not tell you about that?’

  ‘Indeed he did.’ He handed her up into the carriage. ‘Pray stay here with Tom, Miss Paget; I must go and speak to them.’

  He left her to push his way through to the three men, who were standing by the rails, though the last race had finished and the crowds were drifting away. Corporal Batson saw him and came swiftly to attention. He looked incongruous, ragged, unshaven, with the toe coming off his boot.

  Richard smiled. ‘At ease, man, you’re not in the army now.’

  The man relaxed. ‘We were on the way to Dullingham House, Major, like you said, but we thought we’d ‘ave a flutter first. You never know when your luck is in, do you?’

  ‘I should say your luck was in when we met in London. Why did you not take advantage of my offer immediately?’

  ‘We started out. Had to walk, you know...’

  ‘I gave you enough for a fare.’

  ‘Food were more important, Major. And we sent most of the cash home.’

  ‘Of course, I should have realised. But my father also gave you money; I suppose that is all gone too?’

  ‘It is now,’ one of the others said, smiling ruefully. ‘The nags were all sheep.’

  Richard smiled. ‘Will you go to Dullingham House now? It is not above a dozen miles away.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ This last as Richard handed him a few coins.

  ‘And thank you for rescuing my father.’

  ‘It were nothing,’ the Corporal said. ‘Did ‘e tell you what ‘appened?’

  ‘He said the coach was held up but you drove off the attackers.’

  ‘That all he said, sir?’

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘They meant to kill ‘is lordship. He didn’t resist nor anything like that, but one o’ them took ‘im to one side. He had a barkin’ iron and he was goin’ to use it, too. I let pop with mine and killed him dead.’

  Richard did not ask how the soldier came to have a weapon; it was no doubt a souvenir from the war. ‘He didn’t tell me anything of this.’

  ‘Just afore I let fly, I heard one on ‘em say, "Make it look good." Now why should ‘e say that, less’n he meant to make it look like a high toby job when it weren’t that at all? Someone’s got it in for the old fellow, that’s what I says.’

  Richard could not think who would wish his father dead; he had no enemies that he knew of. In fact, he was well-liked by everyone: friends, employees and tenants. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ he said.

  ‘No thanks needed, Major. We ‘ad our eye on the main chance, but your young lady soon put a stop to that. Brave young miss, she be, and not afraid to speak out.’

  Richard smiled. ‘Yes, indeed. But you may do me another small service.’

  ‘Anything, Major.’

  ‘Go to Dullingham House as soon as maybe and take whatever situation his lordship offers you. I will double your wages if you keep an eye out for him. If anyone else tries to harm him, I want to know at once. Protect him, if you can.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’ Again that incongruous coming to attention, but this time Richard did not smile. He was still bemused by what he had heard. Had they been mistaken? He left them and returned to Georgie.

  ‘We had better make a push to leave before the crowds make it impossible,�
�� he said, climbing up beside her. It took all his attention to manoeuvre the curricle out of the course on to the highway, and he remained silent until they were bowling along the heath road towards Cambridge.

  ‘Those men,’ he said at last. ‘They have just told me something so extraordinary I do not know whether to believe them or not.’

  ‘Oh.’ She waited to be enlightened.

  ‘They say that the men who stopped Father’s carriage intended to kill him, that they were not real highwaymen.’

  ‘Did his lordship not tell you that?’

  ‘No, he did not. He passed the incident off very lightly, though I must admit Wendens looked decidedly green about the gills when my father was telling me of it.’

  ‘Perhaps he did not wish to worry you.’

  ‘Perhaps, but if he is in some sort of danger, then I must know. Tell me what happened, Miss Paget, every last detail. What they did, what my father did...’

  ‘He did nothing to provoke them, if that is what you mean. I remember thinking he was being so calm about it in order not to frighten me. But I did think it was strange when one of them took his lordship towards the bushes. I was quite sure he was going to be killed.’

  ‘And you, what did you do?’

  ‘What could I do? I was enraged, but very frightened too. They all had pistols.’

  ‘The soldiers said you were very brave.’

  She laughed. ‘That was after it was all over and I had recognised them.’ She paused, serious again. ‘I can’t really believe the highwaymen meant to kill anyone. After all, they had taken all our jewellery and what little money we had on our persons, though Lord Dullingham had hidden the bulk of his money and they did not find that.’

  ‘Can you describe any of the men?’

  ‘Not really; they all wore scarves over their faces. One did have a black beard, but he was the one who was killed by the Corporal. And they all wore black suits. I might know the horses again.’

  He laughed. ‘Miss Paget, you are priceless.’

  ‘Why, what have I said?’

  ‘That someone in the circumstances in which you found yourself should have taken note of the robbers’ mounts rather than the men themselves.’