Fortunate Wager (9 page)

‘Good God, as if Giles will even notice! It will be nice to have some company that doesn’t cosset me beyond bearing, I can tell you.’

He had the drawn look of one who had been up for too long, but if Caroline suggested as much he would likely blast her clear across the room. After showing Mr d’Arblay in, she hovered in the passage, not liking to go too far out of earshot in case she was required.

‘I’d have thought you’d have that bandage off by now,’ she heard Giles say by way of a greeting.

‘Tomorrow, I’m told,’ came the reply.

‘And still abed! I never thought to see that. Getting feeble in your dotage?’

‘For your information I have been up all day and am only just returned here. Under duress, I might add.’

Caroline snorted. Men were so boastful. She moved down the passage to avoid eavesdropping further, but Mr d’Arblay’s voice was tiresomely penetrating.

‘… shocking bad luck yesterday,’ he was saying. ‘The only good horse on the whole damn heath was Wilson’s colt. Lord, Alex, do you really need all these medicines?’

‘No, of course I don’t. I wish you would desist from roaming around the room, Giles. It’s enough to make one dizzy.’

‘Today wasn’t much better. Of course we all went for Manfred or Sylvanus for the Newmarket Stakes after yesterday’s showing, and the blasted nags were nowhere in sight at the finish!’

‘Who took it then? Gazelle?’

‘Yes. How the devil did you guess that?’

‘Do you never study form, Giles?’

Caroline grinned to herself. Study form indeed. Alexander had got that straight from talking to Harry last night.

‘Heigh ho, thank God it’s a fuller programme tomorrow. Shall I put something on the One Thousand Guineas for you?’

‘Do sit down, Giles. And thank you, but no. I have lost quite as much as I want to the Newmarket roughs.’

‘Pshaw. Small change.’

‘If you consider the contents of my pocketbook small change, no wonder you are always sailing close to the wind. Do you dine at Cheveley tonight?’

‘Yes. What o’clock is it? I’d better be off if I’m to make myself ready.’

Caroline snorted again. An extremely short visit. She wondered Mr d’Arblay had bothered to call at all. She went towards the entrance hall, meaning to see him firmly off the premises, but was arrested by the sound of his voice.

‘Sure you don’t want a flutter? Trictrac’s supposed to be a dead cert. Oh, by the by, I’ve been looking about for you, but I haven’t seen anything smoky. Not unless you count your precious host collecting indecently large rolls of soft this morning from the bookmakers.’

‘Giles, we have had this before. He is a trainer. And an owner in a small way. What is it Bunbury always says? That if it wasn’t for the betting, no racehorse owner could afford to keep a string at all?’

‘Ha! Seems damned unlikely that his untried colt should run the legs off Grafton’s the other day with all that pedigree behind it. Lost me a pretty packet, I can tell you.’

‘Your losing bets are always the unlikeliest of occurrences. Leave it.’

Caroline retained just enough presence of mind to whisk up the passage as the bell sounded for the butler. She was so angry she found it difficult to give Mr d’Arblay even the coldest of nods as he bid her a cheerful farewell.

‘I knew Alex wouldn’t let himself be hedged around with nurses and suchlike for long,’ he said as he straightened his hat in the mirror.

‘No indeed,’ she said. ‘He is so improved that I daresay he will be back at the White Hart with you in short order.’

Mr d’Arblay looked a little startled. ‘Do you think so?’

‘Oh, certainly.’

The shorter the better as far as she was concerned.

It wasn’t until after Lord Rothwell had dropped off to sleep that a messenger arrived with the news that the night-nurse was very sorry, but she’d been called to a confinement.

Caroline was not best pleased. Lord Rothwell may not share his friend’s conviction that Harry must have fixed Fancy’s sweepstake, but she did not feel very friendly towards him nevertheless. She had been prepared to talk him out of any dream terrors, but she didn’t want him falling asleep on her shoulder again and she would have much preferred to spend the rest of the night in her own bed for once rather than the wing chair.

‘I’ll sit meself in the passage, Miss Caro,’ said the footman obligingly. ‘I’ll soon hear if you need me.’

‘Thank you,’ said Caroline, capitulating with a sigh. She
fetched her book, moved the chair so she would not keep catching glimpses of Alexander whenever she looked up, and prepared to wait.

She was still waiting some hours later. Or rather, she was curled up in the chair fast asleep when a noise woke her. She blinked, disoriented. Certainly she had heard a thud, as if Alexander had flung an arm out of bed preparatory to his usual tossing and turning, and that was the first direction she looked. But he was sleeping soundly. Besides, the noise had come from quite a different part of the room. Caroline stood up, puzzled, stretching cramped muscles as she traced back her waking memory. Not from the passage, it must have been something outside. Curious, she crossed the room in her stocking feet and pulled back the curtain. And screamed as a masked face leered through the glass at her.

The masked man turned and ran straight away across the lawn, disappearing through the archway leading to the road.

‘I’m here, Miss Caro,’ yelled the footman in a sleep-befuddled voice. He wrenched the door open wider and stumbled into the aperture.

‘Intruder,’ she gasped. ‘On the terrace. He ran towards the town. If you hurry you might catch him.’ The footman swore and staggered off.

‘What the devil is going on?’ said Alexander, sitting up in the semi-darkness. ‘Who’s there? What o’clock is it?’

‘There was a man,’ said Caroline, her voice shaky. ‘Outside the terrace door. He – he had a mask on.’

Alexander rubbed his eyes. ‘Sit down before you fall,’ he commanded. ‘What moonshine is this?’

Caroline regarded him with indignation, but as her legs were indeed about to fold up on her, she tottered to the edge of his bed. ‘It is
not
moonshine. A noise woke me and it wasn’t you so I opened the curtain and … and …’ To her horror she almost retched. She held it down. ‘I am never ill,’ she said fiercely. ‘Never!’

A warm arm came securely around her shoulders. ‘Easy. I believe you.’

‘So I should think,’ she muttered. His arm both helped and worried her. And she would be a lot happier once she had persuaded her stomach to behave.

‘I
meant
I believe you are never ill. I’m reserving judgement on the housebreaker.’

Furious, Caroline tried to wriggle free, but he held her more firmly. Warmth seeped into her, dispelling both the incipient hysteria and the unruly behaviour of last night’s supper. ‘Better now?’ he asked after a moment, his voice holding a suggestion of a laugh.

Caroline was better. She was also, if possible, even crosser.
She
was supposed to manipulate
him
, not the other way around.

‘He got away, Miss Caro,’ called the footman, puffing back up the passage.

Instantly, Alexander let her go and Caroline discovered she could stand very well after all.

‘I heard him running, like,’ continued the man, appearing in the doorway holding a hand to his side, ‘but he must’ve dodged down between the inns.’

‘It can’t be helped. You did very well. The house is still secure which is what counts.’

‘And he is unlikely to try again,’ said Alexander. ‘I daresay you gave him as much of a fright as he gave you.’ He glanced meditatively at her. ‘I believe a hot drink might be of service.’

‘You’re not wrong, sir,’ said the footman with enthusiasm. ‘There’ll be some warmth in the kitchen range still. I could mix a nice bumper or …’ His voice trailed off as he looked at Caroline. ‘Or perhaps a pan of cocoa.’

‘Cocoa,’ said Caroline.

‘Both,’ said Alexander at the same moment.

The footman hurried out.

‘Now sit down again,’ said Alexander, ‘and tell me properly what happened.’

‘I did tell you. I was woken by a noise and—’

‘I said properly. What, for example, were you doing in this room?’

‘Oh, well, the nurse had to go to a confinement.’

‘The nurse? Dr Peck was not of the opinion that I needed a nurse any more. There was no nurse here when I went to sleep.’

If Caroline had ever given into the urge to howl in her life, she would have howled now. First the face at the window, then Alexander’s arm around her shoulder, now she had to tell him he’d been having nightmares. He would hate it, hate this evidence of weakness. ‘You do not need a nurse during the day,’ she began falteringly, ‘but at night you … that is, when you sleep you….’

His temper snapped. ‘Caroline, sit down here and tell me why the devil you were in my room overnight, completely unchaperoned.’

She had been about to resume her seat on the bed. Now she shot up as if there were live coals on the coverlet. Compromised! That was
another
complication she hadn’t thought about. A firm hand on her shoulder pressed her down again. ‘
Will
you be easy.’

‘You are still having nightmares,’ she said, too rattled to be anything but blunt. ‘And the door was ajar and Thomas just outside so I was
not
unchaperoned.’

‘Your parents may take a different view! Good God, I simply don’t believe it! Of all the ill-considered, idiotic schemes—’

‘They will not know! Have no fear, my lord, no one in this house is likely to acquaint them with the particulars. There is not the least danger of you being constrained to make me an offer.’

She felt a jolt of distaste from him. He did not like her to speak his thoughts out loud. ‘Has my valet perhaps left the house?’ he said icily. ‘Should he not have been the one to occupy that chair? He has been doing remarkably little else to earn his wages recently.’

A valet who had recourse to the sal volatile at the sight of a pinprick and who wore himself out just pressing a neck-cloth to perfection? Caroline gritted her teeth. ‘You do not understand. When you are in the grip of the nightmares, you grow extremely anxious – disturbed, even – and could easily injure yourself.’

His face grew grimmer. ‘And you – a slip of a girl – can cope with that better than a full-grown man, can you?’

‘I can cope with it better than your valet, certainly.’

He was surprised into a crack of laughter. ‘He is very good at what he does.’

‘He would have to be,’ said Caroline. She took a cautious breath, hoping she had diverted him.

‘But that still doesn’t explain why
you
, and not a burly footman for instance, should be the one to restrain me.’ He said this with measured revulsion, as if the thought of not being in control of himself was repellent.

Caroline moistened her lips. ‘Because my voice soothes you. I don’t know why, my lord. It just does.’

He frowned at her. She had the impression he was casting back through fevered memories. She hoped they weren’t the ones associated with Rosetta. ‘Say my name,’ he said in an odd voice.

‘Lord Rothwell.’

He shook his head impatiently. ‘Say my name.’

She looked at him. ‘Alexander.’

There was a moment of utter stillness. A nearly burnt log settled in the fireplace with a soft whump. Alexander sat back, shifting uncomfortably.

Caroline slid to her feet. ‘Your pillows are awry. Lean forward and I will straighten them for you.’

‘Thank you.’ He held himself stiffly until she had plumped them up. Then, ‘Did I dream tonight?’

His manner was casual, but Caroline was not fooled. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Dr Peck said you might not, the more active you became. It encourages me to hope that you really are recovering.’

‘Then there is no need for you to stay once you have had your cocoa.’

‘No, my lord.’

More cinders fell through the grate. Caroline crossed the room to put on another log.

‘What … what do I seem anxious about?’

Again it was said off-handedly. Caroline kept her face turned towards the fire. ‘Oh, you are not coherent for the most part.’

‘Caroline, please answer me.’

She walked slowly back to the bed. ‘That is twice tonight you have used my name.’

‘Please tell me,’ he repeated. On the coverlet his hands were clenched.

‘I think you must already know.’ He was hurting; she could
feel
him hurting. She sat down on the bed again and took one fist between her palms. This was no time for maidenly affectation. ‘When you dream, you are overwhelmingly anxious to reach someone called Lizzy before nightfall.’

He let out a sharp breath. From the way his fingers jerked, she knew she had understood his apprehension aright. This was the secret he did not want the world to know about, and no wonder. An elopement, if such it had been, was a scandal that no family would want spread about. ‘No one has heard you except for me and the nurse,’ she continued quietly. ‘
I
do not pry, and she has a score or more years of discretion behind her.’

There was another long silence. ‘Why did you not tell me?’

‘That you were still having nightmares after the fever had passed? Because I did not want any daytime anxiety to interfere with your recovery! I wish for you to get better and resume your normal life.’
Away from here. Away from me.

Footsteps in the passage heralded the imminent arrival of hot drinks. Caroline retreated to the wing chair.

‘Go to bed,’ said Alexander with finality once she had finished her cocoa. ‘I shall not dream tonight.’

D
AWN STREAKED THINLY
through a gap in the brocade curtains. The fire was down to rosy ash. Alex lay in the unaccustomed silence of his room and contemplated the events of the night.

It seemed he’d added his sister’s thwarted elopement to his repertoire. That in itself was hardly surprising. He’d been out of his mind with worry that day – knowing he was to blame for not making his point more forcefully, knowing he’d been found wanting, all the leads sending him wrong, and time marching relentlessly on. Small wonder his unconscious mind kept reliving the agony. The astonishing thing was that he ever had a night’s respite.

He felt his hands ball into fists. He loathed the idea of nightmares he couldn’t control, but he had sweated them out before with no ill effects. What was far worse was Caroline now being conversant with his weaknesses, his lowest moments. And taking it upon herself not to inform him what was happening. Damned chit of a girl, thinking she knew best yet again. She seemed honourable enough, but just let him catch one hint of pity in her eyes and he’d … he’d….

He took a calming breath. This wasn’t solving anything. He would cultivate composure, become more active during the day, and the dreams would go away. That was the way it worked. He slid from the bed, testing the strength in his legs. He was infernally weak still. But he made it to the window in less time than it had taken yesterday and pulled the curtain aside.

Nothing. Nothing to show that there had ever been a face pressed up against the panes. Just a terrace, a lawn with a shrubbery and ornamental bridge, and the stable block over on the right leading to paddocks where horses and grooms were already at work. All perfectly innocent.

But, impossible as it seemed, something smoky must be afoot at Penfold Lodge. Last week he had been very efficiently put out of the way before he could, presumably, stumble on some compromising occurrence, and this week there had once again been an interloper in the grounds.

Who? And why? And who had they come to see?

He focused on the back of the stable block where a stripling was bent low, patting a horse’s neck before dismounting and leading it inside. That lad again. Was he part of the mystery? It was infuriating to be on the spot yet constrained by his injury not to take part in the routine of the house.

Frustration gave him the answer. He must make an attempt to alter the circumstances. In the first instance he needed to expand his boundaries. He was never going to learn anything if he kept to this room. He would start by breakfasting with the family.

Lord Rothwell’s declaration, delivered by the maid who had crept into his room to make up the fire, caused not a little consternation in the kitchen.

‘Eat with the family?’ repeated Caroline, a forkful of ham suspended halfway to her mouth.

‘Yes, miss. Ooh, he did give me a fright. I had no notion he was awake.’

‘He has no call to be awake this time of day,’ said Caroline crossly. ‘Tell me again what he said.’

‘To fetch his man to him, so’s he could get up and shaved and dressed and have breakfast with the family. He said as how he didn’t want to inconvenience the household any more than he need.’

‘He will inconvenience us more! None of us has “eaten breakfast with the family” since Lady Penfold died. What a
confounded nuisance. You’d better set some water on to boil, but don’t you call that fuss-pot valet of his before I’m back down. That’s all we need, him finicking about the kitchen.’ Caroline pelted up to her room to scramble into a dress. It was her own fault for not changing as soon as she got in from the horses, but the porridge had been bubbling hot and she’d been hungry and … It wasn’t a mistake she’d be making again this week, that’s for sure. She wondered what was really behind Lord Rothwell’s decision. He did not strike her as a man who habitually considered his hosts’ servants. Despite her vow to be more than ever rigorously uninterested in their house guest, Caroline nevertheless found her movements slowing as she thought of him. Would he be Lord Rothwell or Alexander this morning?

When Alex was shown into the breakfast parlour, he discovered it to be empty. He sat in solitary state as the footman helped him to bacon, kidneys, potato and eggs.

‘Good morning,’ said Caroline, entering the room a little later. ‘I am glad to see the alarms of the night have not interfered with your progress.’ She smiled at the footman. ‘Tea please, John. And toast.’

Tea and toast. Ha! As he’d thought, yesterday’s line about her eating an omelette had all been a hum to persuade
him
to eat. Just another instance of her high-handedness. ‘I wish I could say the same for you,’ he commented. ‘I seem to recall you mentioning that in general you made a very hearty breakfast.’

Having expressed himself with what he considered to be a nice irony, he was a little put out when she pulled the marmalade towards her and chuckled. ‘I did. Some two hours ago. I can particularly recommend the bacon today.’

She was, without doubt, a most irritating young woman. Now he looked more closely, he noticed that she had dust and straw on her gown again and her hair was almost certainly not as it had left her maid’s hands. It exasperated him that she didn’t seem to mind. No wonder she had not had any success in attracting offers. Not that that seemed to bother her either. ‘I was
hoping to speak to your brother,’ he said abruptly.

‘Oh, you should have said. Harry has gone out. I daresay he will be back before the racing starts. Or perhaps not. Maiden runs today. He will be trying to get good odds on her.’

Alex began to think he had got himself up for nothing. An enquiry about the newspapers elicited the information that they were upstairs with Mrs Penfold, but that he should have them as soon as she had finished.

‘It is her one luxury, not being obliged to rise for breakfast any more. Lady Penfold used to get up fearfully early, you see, and liked the whole household to eat with her when she had finished going around the stables.’

‘I can see why you got on so well with her,’ said Alex, somewhat acerbically.

‘Indeed, we had a lot in common. Did I mention that she was my godmother?’

‘Yes. She left you the chestnut stallion. I realize now that it was not so bizarre a bequest as I first thought.’

Caroline gave a peal of laughter. ‘You
are
out of sorts. Never mind, my lord, the doctor will be here later and I daresay will pronounce you fit enough to return to your rooms where the newspapers are all your own, the chef delivers what you want to eat when you want it and no nocturnal prowlers disturb your sleep.’

At this, Alex experienced a profound jolt. He had been sparring with Caroline as he might with Giles, or with his sister, forgetting that she was in a sense on the other side of the fence. He could not tell her that whatever the privations, he was by no means ready to leave this house.

‘Not go back yet?’ said Caroline, dismayed.

‘A couple more days,’ said Dr Peck. ‘He is weak still, and more worried about his nightmares than he would have you believe. I am firmly of the opinion that a quiet, orderly house will be better for his full recovery than a noisy coaching inn.’

Oh would it! Unable to vent her feelings on the object of her
ire, Caroline expressed herself at great length in a letter to Louisa instead.
However
, she wrote at the end,
I am determined to work with Solange as soon as he retires to rest. She is responding very well and it would be a crime to interrupt the training now. Oh, and I have just thought of a famous notion! If Lord R chances to be awake and sitting with us later (as I fear may very well be the case, for his indisposition seems to have robbed him of the ability to amuse himself) and we have an influx of callers as we did yesterday, I shall ask Hibbert to show them in without giving him the opportunity to escape. That should convince him fairly speedily of the need to return to his own well-trained servants, do you not think?

It was clear that Lord Rothwell had not considered this hazard of life in a female establishment. If she hadn’t been so determined to give him a distaste for continuing to convalesce here, Caroline might almost have felt sorry for him as the fourth set of callers in as many half-hours remembered the existence of her and Mrs Penfold and were ushered into the Yellow Saloon.

‘Do you seriously enjoy the inanities and time-wasting nothings that were paraded in this room today?’ he asked with some incredulity, once all the visitors had finally departed.

‘No, of course not,’ replied Caroline. ‘No one could who was not entirely pea-brained.’

‘Then why put up with it?’

‘Because not all of us are infernally rude. One cannot be forever saying one is not at home. Besides, apart from Mrs Penfold’s particular friends, they did not come to visit
us
at all.’

She saw the unpalatable truth hit him. ‘They came because I was here?’ he said indignantly.

‘Well, neither Mrs Penfold nor I have a title and an estate in Surrey.’ On the mantelpiece, the clock ticked on. Flood should be on the way back with Maiden by now. Caroline wanted to be in the stables to meet them and find out how the race had gone. She bestowed a kindly smile on Lord Rothwell. ‘I believe we might now tell Hibbert we are not at home. The doctor mentioned that you should not put in a whole day without resting if you wish to continue your encouraging progress. Will you eat dinner with
us later, or would you prefer to take it in your room?’

As soon as he had opted to eat with them and asked for his valet to be called, Caroline sped out to the stable. The grin on the face of the stable-hand who most often cared for Maiden was all the answer she needed.

‘She won by a length and had plenty more in reserve, Miss Caro, only the rider said there was no need to show her hand a’cos the others were tiring. She’ll take the Novice Stakes next month for sure.’

‘Oh, I do hope so.’ Caroline reached up and buried her face in the filly’s neck, inhaling the lovely scent of warm horse. ‘You clever, clever girl. Extra feed tonight for you.’

‘Some weren’t so happy,’ said Flood quietly as the groom led Maiden into the stable. ‘One or two mutterings about how lucky Mr Harry was getting, and how it weren’t natural for a new trainer to be winning so often.’

Caroline looked at him, worried. ‘Influential people?’ she asked.

‘Depends on your outlook. Did seem as though most of the muttering came from groups Jem Jessop had just left.’

‘Jessop? On the heath when his master is laid up here?’

Flood shrugged. ‘While the cat’s away, Miss Caro. I did notice one thing….’

‘Yes?’

‘He was hanging around the ring when Mr Harry bet on Neva to take the One Thousand Guineas. Then he slips off. Then, lo and behold, his lordship’s fine friend arrives and puts money on Neva himself.’

‘Well! How two-faced can you get!’ Caroline was incensed. After Mr d’Arblay had sniped away about Harry yesterday – to blatantly use him like that! Like Flood, she was in no doubt at all that the events he’d relayed were connected. ‘At least he should be in a better mood tonight if he calls,’ she said crossly. Then looked at her head groom in sudden doubt. ‘Neva did win, I take it?’

Flood chuckled. ‘That she did, lass. You were spot on again.’
He ran over the other winners but for once Caroline’s attention wasn’t fully on the recital. Was there really such bad feeling about Harry on the racecourse? Surely the small wins they were enjoying ought to add to his prestige amongst the other trainers, not diminish it. Of course, it would help if their father would only be proud of his son for once and take his part. Oh, bother it, why were people so complicated? No wonder she preferred horses.

From his window, Alex watched Caroline stretch up and hug the chestnut filly. The horse must have won. He wondered if Giles had overcome his prejudice and put money on her. He was startled at how natural and spontaneous Caroline looked, compared, though he hadn’t realized it at the time, with the polite artificiality she had displayed towards the visitors in the saloon. Did all women act a part in front of others? Which her was it who coaxed him to eat? Or traded quips with him? Not that it mattered, of course.

She was talking to the head groom now, and even from this distance Alex saw her countenance change. Some sort of unwelcome news for sure. At length she made her way back, still looking thoughtful, and passed out of his field of vision. Now, how was he to find out what had taken the bounce out of her usual sprightly step?

‘Does your brother not dine here tonight?’

Caroline didn’t look perturbed at the question, so whatever had bothered her earlier, it wasn’t Harry Fortune. ‘He rarely does during a racing week.’ She finished her soup and helped herself to a large portion of the chicken in caper sauce. Alex had come to the rueful conclusion that her statement about substantial breakfasts had been no less than the truth. She was the least fussy young lady he had ever shared a dinner table with. ‘By the by, I am glad to hear you let Jessop go,’ she commented.

He frowned. ‘I haven’t.’

‘Have you not? We thought you must have done, because Flood saw him on the heath today.’

‘I daresay Giles took him.’

‘Oh, of course. Though why he would be at the betting post and not in the grooms’ enclosure is a little puzzling.’

‘Running an errand probably.’ Alex carved his own chicken thoughtfully. ‘I have never asked you what specifically you have against Jessop.’

‘Save that he has been turned off in short order from his last three positions, that he lies, that he keeps dubious company and that he is unnecessarily hard on the animals in his care, nothing. How did you come to employ him, my lord? I own I was surprised once I had seen you with our foals.’

A very odd warmth took Alex by surprise. That had almost sounded like a compliment. ‘He was sent by the livery office when one of my men left.’

‘I am astonished he was on their books, considering his character must be well known in the town.’