273. The Elusive Earl. Barbara Cartland
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he had eaten, he began to feel better and told himself that the reason he was not feeling in his usual good health was the fact that the rooms at Devonshire House had been over-heated and that the brandy supplied by the Duke had been of inferior quality.
As he had told Lord Yaxley, he seldom drank to excess and, while he had not been in the slightest degree drunk last night, he had, however, sipped the brandy while they were talking until it was nearly dawn.
He therefore had found it difficult to sleep when he eventually reached his bed and that, combined with the long drive back from Newmarket, had made him unusually fatigued.
He decided that what he needed was fresh air and went out the front door to find that a black stallion that he had bought only the previous week at Tattersalls was awaiting him.
Suddenly the Earl found that both his headache and his disagreeableness had dispersed in the spring sunshine.
The horse was magnificent, there was no doubt about that.
His muscles were rippling under his shiny black coat as he tossed his head and pranced about in a manner that told the Earl that he was an animal worth breaking in to his touch.
Two grooms were striving to hold the stallion steady and, finding it impossible to keep their hold on him as the Earl swung himself into the saddle.
As the animal bucked and reared to show his independence, it took the Earl a little while to get him under control.
They set off down Piccadilly and had reached Hyde Park before the Earl knew with a sense of triumph that once again he was the Master.
There was nothing the Earl enjoyed more than a battle with a horse that was determined not to be subservient to his will.
They had a number of tussles before finally the Earl, pressing his tall hat firmly down on his head, took the stallion at a sharp pace down the row.
Away from the fashionable part where it was considered socially incorrect to gallop, the Earl gave the horse his head and galloped him hard over the grass until there was a glimmer of silver ahead and he realised that they were nearing the Serpentine.
Pulling his mount to a trot, he took his gold watch from his vest pocket and looked at the time.
It was in fact just on nine o’clock!
He had intended not to be punctual, it never hurt to keep someone as importunate as the writer of the note waiting, but owing to the speed that he had galloped at he was in fact on time.
Steadily he rode towards the bridge and saw as he drew near to it that there was nobody there.
‘It must have been a hoax,’ the Earl told himself wryly.
Nevertheless, as he was curious to know why anyone should take the trouble to play such a trick on him, he pulled the stallion to a standstill and stood gazing at the long silver stretch of water in front of him
The horse fidgeted a little and the Earl had just made up his mind to leave and continue with his ride when he saw coming towards him through the trees a woman riding at a pace which almost equalled his own a little while earlier.
She was wearing a green riding habit and the veil that encircled her hat flew out behind her like a flag.
He stood waiting as she drew nearer and he noticed with an experienced eye that she was riding an extremely well-bred animal.
Then to his astonishment, as the horse came nearer, seeming to gallop straight at him, the woman threw herself from the saddle to fall to the ground directly in front of him.
The Earl was so surprised that for a moment he could only stare at her. Then hastily, as she appeared to be lying still, he dismounted, tied his stallion’s reins with an expert hand to a post on the side of the bridge and went to her side.
As he reached her, he saw that her eyes were closed, but as he bent down and put out his hands, she opened them.
“Are you the Earl of Helstone?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I am all right,” she answered him in a surprisingly firm tone. “But I have something to tell you and we shall have to be quick about it.”
“What is it?” the Earl asked.
She had obviously suffered no damage and was in no pain but she continued to lie on the ground, although now she supported herself on one elbow and her head was raised.
She was very attractive, he thought, with fair hair with a touch of red in it showing under the brim of her dark hat, a very white skin and large grey-green eyes that seemed almost to fill her small face.
She was young, the Earl realised, and yet her voice had a decisive note in it that he did not associate with a young girl.
“You have been asked,” she then began, “to stay with Lady Chevington for the Epsom Races?”
“I have,” the Earl answered.
“You must refuse! Write and make any excuse you like, but on no account accept the invitation.”
“But why?” the Earl asked in bewilderment. “And why should it concern you?”
The girl was just about to answer him when there was the sound of thudding hoofs and a groom came hurrying towards them.
He was middle-aged and, when he saw his Mistress lying on the ground, he exclaimed in consternation,
“What’s ’appened to you, Miss Calista? ’Ave you ’urt yourself?”
“No, I am all right, Jenkins,” the girl replied. “Go and catch Centaur.”
“Now, Miss Calista, you knows I won’t be able to do that – ” the man started.
The Earl looked up at him sharply.
“You heard what the lady said. Catch her horse and bring it here.”
The groom recognised the voice of authority at once and touched his cap.
“Very good, sir.”
He spurred the horse he was riding and moved away.
The girl raised herself until she was in a sitting position. Then to the Earl’s astonishment she puckered her lips together and emitted a long low whistle to be followed by a shorter one.
The horse she had been riding immediately raised his head from where, a little way to the left of them, he was placidly eating the grass.
The groom had nearly reached him, but at his approach the horse then turned, trotting away for a dozen yards to put down his head again. The groom followed him only for the same thing to happen.
The Earl looked down at the girl beside him,
“You taught him to behave like that?” he said. “And he did not throw you, you threw yourself off!”
“Of course Centaur would never throw me,” the girl answered, “but I wanted to talk to you and, if Jenkins had thought that we had met by arrangement, he would have told Mama.”
“Who is your mother?” the Earl enquired.
“Lady Chevington!”
He looked at her in perplexity.
“Then why are you telling me I am not to accept your mother’s invitation to Epsom?”
“Because,” the girl answered, “if you come to stay, she will make you marry me!”
For a moment the Earl thought that she must be joking, but as he looked into her eyes, he realised that there was a serious expression in them and there was little doubt that she meant what she had just said.
There was a faint smile on his lips as he parried,
“I assure you that I can look after myself. If I do stay in your house for