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Authors: Cathy Spencer

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BOOK: The Marriage Market
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Margaret and James caught up to him.  “How are you feeling, Tim?” she asked.

“I’ll live,” he grunted.

She snorted and lowered the gun from her shoulder onto the ground.  “Of course you will, you idiot.  It’s your own fault you got shot in the first place.  You do look pale, though.  Ralph, give him some more brandy.”

Ralph drew a flask from his pocket and handed it to his brother.  “Hope it puts some colour back into your face.  You look like a corpse.”  Timothy shot him a nasty look before taking a deep draught.

Victoria heard a rattling noise and turned to see the footman guiding the horse and wagon over the rutted ground at the edge of the clearing.  “It was tight getting through the trees, sir,” the footman said as he came closer.  “I’ll lead the horse on the way back until we are clear of the woods.”

“Very good, Nigel,” Mr. House said, clapping the footman on the shoulder.  Turning back to the others, he said, “Come, boys, let’s get him into the back of the wagon so he can lie down.  Stow the guns in beside him, and I’ll ride up front with young Nigel.”

David leapt onto the vehicle and helped Ralph to lift his brother inside.  Stripping off his coat, David bundled it under Timothy’s head to serve as a pillow.  James lifted up the guns and David slid them under the seat.

James leaned against the wagon to address the injured man. “Please let me apologize again, Mr. House.  I am extremely sorry about this.  I hope that your leg will be better soon.”

Margaret responded, “Do not baby him, Mr. Wovington.  Timothy is indestructible.  Besides, it’s not the first time you’ve been shot, is it Tim?  Although it’s usually by a jealous husband or an angry father, eh, you young cad?”  She laughed while Timothy scowled at her.

Her father said from his seat, “Now, don’t kick a man when he’s down, daughter.  Let’s go, young Nigel,” and the footman led them away until the horse and wagon disappeared from view among the trees.

“I’m ravenous,” Ralph said.  “Let’s see what Cook has sent for sandwiches.”  He picked up the hamper from where the footman had deposited it on the grass, and set it upon the rock his brother had just vacated.  Opening it, he pulled out an assortment of sandwiches, a wedge of cheese, and some jars of ale.  Margaret and James crowded round him, Margaret choosing a ham sandwich and sinking onto the ground to eat.  Victoria hung back a little with David.

“But how did it happen?” she asked.  “How was Mr. Timothy House hurt?  Who shot him?”

“I did,” James said, looking at her with a grim expression.  “It was an accident, of course.  I had been following a hare through the trees when it disappeared into the undergrowth.  I lost track of it for a moment, but then I saw some tall grasses trembling in the right direction, so I fired into them.  Next thing I knew, Timothy House was writhing on the ground and shouting.  I tried to stop the bleeding with my handkerchief, but then the others caught up and Miss House made a tourniquet with a strip from her underskirt.  We were just bringing him here so that he could be taken home in the wagon.”

“But what was Mr. Timothy House doing in the undergrowth?” Victoria asked with a puzzled frown.

James’ face reddened and David said, “He was not alone, Victoria,” waggling his eyebrows at her.

“Oh,” she said, sitting down abruptly on the ground beside Margaret.

“Yes,” said Margaret, chewing her sandwich, “it’s just what you think.  Still, this would never have happened if the lazy good-for-nothing had gotten out of bed and come downstairs to meet you this morning.  Apparently, he had a rendezvous planned for this afternoon.  Maybe this will teach him a lesson.”

“I doubt it,” her brother said, “but let’s not let Tim’s little accident spoil the remainder of our day, shall we?  It’s a beautiful afternoon and there’s still a pretty stroll ahead of us.  Tim should be sorted out by the time we get back to the house.  So, who wants some of this excellent lager?”  He looked at David and James in turn, who shrugged and helped themselves to jars.  Victoria selected a sandwich for herself and joined the others on the grass, where they were soon talking of more pleasant matters.

 

Chapter Thirteen – A Disagreement

 

It was late in the evening on the same day.  The gentlemen had lingered over port and cigars in the dining room, and the ladies had retired to bed.  David decided to take a turn along the front drive before turning in, and James offered to accompany him.  The night air was chilly and tendrils of fog drifted over the lawn.

“Well, James, you certainly had an exciting day,” David said.  “If you don’t mind my asking, how goes it between you and Miss House?  Has shooting her brother had a negative effect upon your friendship?”  He grinned, and puffed upon his cigar.

James smiled back ruefully.  “Oddly enough, it seems to have had the opposite effect, old man.  Shooting her brother seems to have given me a certain panache in Miss House’s eyes.”

“That is strange, but then Miss House is an unusual woman.  What do you think of her, by the way?”

“She’s intriguing.  I’ve never met anyone like her.  Certainly she is well-bred and conducts herself conventionally most of the time, but sometimes she takes me by surprise.  She was rather indelicate this afternoon when she made that comment about jealous husbands and fathers shooting her brother.  I was surprised that she referred to such things in mixed company.  Miss House has, shall we say, an ‘earthy’ quality.  Her voracious appetites for riding and dancing, her sense of humour, and her independence are all unusual in a woman.  I believe that she does not care a fig for social convention if it interferes with her enjoyments.”

“She is certainly independent.  I suppose that her wealth and beauty, as well as her father’s influence in her upbringing, have made her different from the rest of her sex.  But does she seem like a potential wife?”

His friend groaned.  “Really, David, first your wife and now you?  For pity’s sake, I have only known the woman a few weeks.  Yes, I admit that she has a definite allure, but is that not usually the case with women until you discover something ghastly about them?  Besides, I am not so quick to be ‘out of the fire and into the frying pan’ after your wife’s last matchmaking attempt.”  David laughed heartily, and James relaxed.  “Give it some time, my friend, and we’ll see what develops.  And convey that message to Victoria, if you will.  No more plotting!  I’ll find my own wife, if you please.  Meanwhile, this visit to the country has proven unusually diverting – so far.”

The gentlemen re-entered the house and ambled down the candle-lit hallway.  David said, “Well, at least she does not bore you, James.  For you, I think ‘boring’ is the worst fault a woman can have.”

James glanced sidelong at David.  “You may be right about that.  I can forgive a woman for being shrewish, unfaithful, slovenly, or a multitude of other sins, but heaven help her if she is boring.”

“Chacun à son gout,” David responded as they climbed the staircase to the second floor and made their separate ways to bed.  David cracked opened the door to his chamber and crept into the room.  Victoria was sitting up in bed, however, with a candle lit on her bedside table.   “David?” she whispered, peering into the shadows.

“Yes, my love.  You’re still awake?”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she said, holding out her hands to him.  He took them and sat down on the bed beside her.

“What’s wrong, Victoria?  You’re trembling,” he said.

  “Oh, it’s really nothing, David.  Only, Mr. House knocked at the door a few minutes ago to 'inquire after my comfort,' as he put it.  I called back that all was well and bid him good night.  When I heard the door opening so softly just now, I was afraid . . . . I wanted to be certain that it was you, that’s all.”

“Blast the old goat!  I should have come upstairs with you when you retired.  Here, lie down and let me cover you up.  You're cold.”  He drew the bedclothes up over her shoulders and lay down beside her, enfolding her in his arms.  “I’m sorry you had a fright, darling.  Better now?”

“I‘m fine, really David, just a little unsettled.  I’m sure he meant nothing by it.”

David kissed her cheek.  “Bless you, I don’t believe that for a second.  The gossip is that House gave his first wife a difficult time with his philandering, but I thought that middle age and a pretty, young second wife would have settled him down.”  He gazed at his own lovely young wife.  “If you are uncomfortable staying here, we can make an excuse and go home in the morning.”

“Oh no, David, let’s not exaggerate the incident.  No harm has been done, and I do wish to show James our support by staying.  But perhaps we should retire at the same time for the rest of our stay.”

“Certainly, my dear.   And I shall guard you more closely while we are here,” he replied, getting up to lock the door.

The next morning, the guests gathered for breakfast in the dining room with Margaret presiding at the table.  Mr. House had already departed on business, and Mrs. House was having a tray in her room, as was her custom.

“How is your brother this morning, Miss House?” Victoria inquired.

“He is better, thank you.  The surgeon instructed him to stay in bed, so of course he is taking advantage of it to be waited on hand and foot.  But it is a clean wound and Tim has not lost much blood, so there is nothing to fear.  Now, what shall we do today?  Shall we begin with riding?”

“I would be happy to accompany you, Miss House,” James said, “if you think the rain will hold off.  The clouds are thick, and the wind is picking up.”

“We must not let a little rain thwart us, Mr. Wovington.  Beside, since Ralph has not deigned to get up yet, you may ride Fireball.  Mrs. Ladbrook, perhaps you would like to try Miss Suzy and a little jumping this morning?”

Victoria turned to her husband with a slight frown.  “Do you think I am ready, David?”

“Now Mrs. Ladbrook, I have told you that no horse is safer for beginners than Miss Suzy,” Margaret said.  “If you are going to be the mistress of a country estate, you must be a horsewoman or people will not respect you.  Have no fear, I would trust Miss Suzy with a child.  A strong young woman like you will have no trouble at all.”

“If you think so, Miss House, I will try,” Victoria replied with a small smile.

“Marvellous.  Let us make our preparations and meet at the front door in a quarter of an hour.”

A little while later, the ladies and gentlemen were waiting outside the stable for their horses to be saddled.  Victoria’s Miss Suzy was led out first, and David helped his wife into the saddle.  Margaret greeted Dancer as the groom led him out.

“Let me give you a hand up, Miss House,” James said.

Margaret smiled at him and gripped the pommel in readiness.  Grasping her around the waist, James lifted her into the saddle.  She arranged her skirts over the horse’s back while the stable boy brought out a large grey mare with a white blaze on her face for David.

“I had them saddle Queenie for you, Mr. Ladbrook.  We’ve had her for three years now.  She’s very steady, but she can give you some speed when you ask for it.  She’s good with Miss Suzy, too.”

“Thank you.  She is a fine animal,” David replied.  He stroked the horse’s neck and murmured into her ear before climbing into the saddle.

There was a clatter of hooves on the cobblestones, and two groomsmen appeared leading a prancing Fireball between them.  The stallion began to rush forward when he spotted the other horses. 

“Whoa there, boy,” soothed one of the groomsmen, dragging the animal to a halt.  Margaret’s Dancer sidled away nervously, but the two mares held their ground.  Fireball was pawing the stones as James approached him.

“Hey there, Fireball,” he said, offering the animal a lump of sugar.  Fireball gobbled it up, whinnied, and shook his head.  “Enjoyed that, did you,” James said, grasping the reins and swinging himself up into the saddle.  The groomsmen stepped back and James turned the horse into the lane.  Fireball skittered ahead of the others, kicking up his heels in little spurts.  Margaret trotted after James.

“Perhaps Mr. Wovington and I should start at a more vigorous pace to give the horses some extra exercise, Mr. Ladbrook,” she called over her shoulder.  “We’ll come back for you and Mrs. Ladbrook later.”

“Excellent idea,” David shouted as she broke into a gallop.  David and Victoria watched as Dancer caught Fireball and went past him headed for the meadow.  As Dancer passed, Fireball reared and took off after the gelding at a gallop.

“Oh David, do you think that James can handle Fireball?” Victoria asked.  Her hand caught at her throat as she watched James dash past Margaret and thunder across the field headed straight for the woods.

“James has managed any horse I’ve ever seen him on, but that animal is a devil and James does not ride as regularly as he should.  Let’s follow them and see how he’s doing.”

“Wait for me!” Victoria called as David pushed his mare into a canter.

James was using all his skill to control Fireball as they cannoned toward a hedge.  “Give him his head, Mr. Wovington!” Margaret shouted from behind him.  Fireball gathered himself and cleared the hedge easily with Margaret following right behind them.

“Don’t fight him.  Let him run hard for a while until he is calmer,” she called, galloping beside him.

James gritted his teeth and muttered, “Come on, you beast, let’s see what you've got.”  He drove his heels into Fireball’s flanks.  The animal spurted forward and James leant in close to his neck.  Margaret and Dancer were left behind as the trees blurred past him.  A log lay across the path and Fireball cleared it without even breaking stride.  They pounded down the path through the woods and broke out of the trees into the clearing.  James guided the animal along the field’s eastern perimeter and made a circuit of the space.  Fireball was calmer by the time Margaret and Dancer caught up with them. 

BOOK: The Marriage Market
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