273. The Elusive Earl. Barbara Cartland
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The Earl rose to his feet
“I am sure you mean well in trying to warn me,” he said, “but I don’t quite understand why you should be so perturbed. I promise you, Miss Calista, I have no intention of marrying anyone.”
“And I have no intention of marrying you,” she replied almost rudely. “But if you do disregard my warning and then accept Mama’s invitation, she will contrive that we shall be married.”
The Earl laughed.
“I just cannot imagine any circumstances in which I could be coerced into accepting a situation that is none of my making. You may rest assured, Miss Calista, that what you fear will not happen.”
Calista rose to her feet.
“You are a fool,” she said. “I might have realised I was wasting my time in writing to you.”
She shook the dust from her riding habit and added,
“Why do you think the Duke of Frampton married my eldest sister, Ambrosine, or the Marquis of Northaw my younger sister Beryl?”
She waited as if she expected the Earl to reply but, as he said nothing and only looked at her speculatively, she said,
“They found themselves engaged to be married because Mama had made up her mind to have them as sons-in-law. Now she has chosen you as – my husband!”
“The idea obviously fills you with horror,” the Earl said, a sarcastic note in his voice.
“I imagined you would have more sense than to treat it as a joke. You are spoken of as being intelligent,” she said, “but I was obviously misled. All right come to Chevington Court, but I swear I will not marry you whatever happens.”
“What could happen?” the Earl enquired.
“You will see,” she replied ominously. “And let me tell you that Mama will win a bet of one thousand guineas the day our engagement is announced in The Gazette.”
“I assure you that she will be a loser,” the Earl said.
He thought that Calista gave him a contemptuous glance before she looked to where the groom was still vainly trying to catch her horse.
It was quite obvious that the animal was playing a game.
No sooner did the groom reach his side and bend forward to take hold of the reins than he moved away, tantalisingly near but just out of reach.
Calista gave another shrill whistle, a single note and now without a moment’s hesitation the animal came trotting up to her, the stirrup swinging as he moved.
She put out her hand, patted his neck and he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.
“Did you teach your horse these tricks?” the Earl asked.
“Of course,” Calista answered. “He understands everything I say to him. That is why he is called ‘Centaur’!”
“A creature half-horse, half-man,” the Earl smiled.
“I am glad to see you are more proficient in Greek than you are in good sense,” Calista remarked.
She looked beyond the Earl to where his stallion was trying to free himself from the bridle which held him to the post.
“What a magnificent horse!” she exclaimed in quite a different tone of voice.
“He is my new acquisition,” the Earl said. “Had I realised the part I was expected to play this morning, I would have brought a quieter animal.”
He went towards the stallion as he spoke to untie him.
The horse reared up, his front hoofs waving above the Earl’s head.
He talked quietly to the animal and, after patting his neck, swung himself lithely into the saddle almost before the stallion realised what was happening.
He turned the horse round to find that Calista had mounted as well.
“Thank you, sir, for your kindness in assisting me,” she said loudly and he realised that she spoke for the groom’s benefit.
“Bow to the gentleman, Centaur,” she commanded.
To the Earl’s surprise, her horse put out one front leg, bent the other and then lowered his head.
Next, without looking at the Earl again, Calista rode away.
He watched her go, realising that she had an excellent seat and rode superbly.
Then, as he thought of what she had said to him, the strange way that she had behaved and the manner in which she had thrown herself from her horse at his feet, the Earl smiled.
‘I must certainly discover what lies at the bottom of all this,’ he told himself.
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