Love Unexpected: A Regency Romance (The Saunders Family Saga Book 1) Page 8
“Ride hortheth.” A well-loved wooden rocking horse stood by the window in his nursery.
“Me too!” said Marianne. “Maybe your mama can sketch one for us!”
* * *
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Captain Saunders had run her to earth in the garden after luncheon one day. “Don’t you think I could benefit from discussing my strategy with you?” He had mentioned during the meal that he had invited some people for drinks at the club that evening.
“I think everyone you meet will happily discuss their hopes for the King’s Plate,” she said. “Could you hold up this stem while I tie it? The wind came through last night, and the garden needs a bit of a cleanup.” The task of tying up the roses was awkward work.
“You are upset about Octavia,” Ernest said, holding the stem.
Unfortunately, after asking for his help, she couldn’t walk away. She cursed herself inwardly.
“Upon what grounds do you suppose me to be upset?” she asked. “Your taste in women is not within my purview.”
“I assure you, I am the pursued, not the pursuer in that case.”
“It is really none of my business.”
“I should like you to make it your business.”
Her heart gave a great thump. “You are flirting with me. Please stop. There is no point,” she said. Her business with the rose bush complete, she stood. “Thank you for your help. I can deal with this on my own now.”
“How stern you are! You remind me of my nanny!”
She reverted to his original purpose. “As to strategy, I think you will do well on your own. In your profession I am sure you have learned to be very wise as to the character of men. While I have never been to a gentlemen’s club, I imagine racing is often the topic of conversation.”
“You are correct. ‘I say, Waverly, who have you put your money on for the four forty?’”
“Do you really think anyone is going to reveal their guilt?” she asked.
“Perhaps not, but we need to at least get an idea of the players. That will help us in the long run. We will know who to watch at the race. Besides, forgot to tell you, but I dropped Tony a line. He and Virginia are coming and staying to go to Newmarket with us. They will be a help.”
Marianne grasped at this conversational opening. “Oh, I am glad to hear it. I do like Virginia and Tony. I hope they bring Angelique.”
“You must miss your brother. You seem very close to his friends.”
“I have known them for years. Bertie holds his friends dear. He has been close friends with Tony and Beau since school days when they all went about together.” She smiled a little. “I used to want to marry Tony myself. He and Beau were always exceptionally kind to me when I was a girl.”
“You didn’t want to marry my brother?”
“He was a bit too much of a womanizer for me. I did not think he would be true, but he has proven me wrong. He is devoted to Penny.”
In spite of herself, Marianne could not help but take note of how handsome the captain was as he stood there. She suddenly had a hard time breathing.
“Yes. Saunders men are hard to tie down, but once tied, they do not stray. We learned that from our father.”
She decided to be bold. “The odds of any marriage being what I would call a success seem very long to me. Penny is exceptionally lucky.”
“Or exceptionally wise. From what Beau says, she had another suitor she almost married. She must have thought the matter through.”
“On the contrary,” Marianne said. “The whole matter was decided by a timely kiss.”
The captain smiled broadly, and they shared another look. She read a dare in his eyes, and her heart quickened.
Surely he is not thinking of kissing me!
Deciding to remove herself from temptation, she turned away. “I must get back inside and see what Gweet is up to. I imagine she is pestering Cook again.”
“Coward,” he said.
* * *
For the rest of the day, Marianne had difficulty remembering what she was doing. While talking to Gweet, her conversation faltered. When she should have been concentrating on the flowers she was arranging, she found herself standing and staring into space, only to be recalled to her duty by a prick from a rose thorn. During luncheon, she caught herself watching the captain’s hands as he cut and ate his food.
At Penny’s at home that afternoon she caught herself wondering what a kiss from Captain Saunders would be like. She had not been kissed in years! Marianne imagined he was an expert. No doubt he had kissed dozens if not hundreds of women! Just imagining his well-formed lips on hers send a shiver through her.
“Dearest, are you cold? Is there a draft?” asked Penny.
Recalled to the present, she started. “Oh, perhaps a bit. I shall run up and get my shawl.”
As she stood, however, she was surprised to hear Lord Webbingford announced. Catching her eye, the visitor smiled at her and made his way across the room.
Returning his smile, she offered him her hand. Bowing over it, the tall man said, “My dear Lady Deveridge. What a pleasure to see you again.”
“Is Refulgent ready for the King’s Plate?” she asked.
He grimaced as though she had stepped on his toe. “She came up lame a few days ago. I had to withdraw her from the race. I’m racing Nemesis instead.”
“Oh! I am so sorry to hear that. What a disappointment! But what a wonderful name that is for a race horse! Tell me about him.”
“Thoroughbred coal-black stallion. Very well bred, but I haven’t had as long to train him, which is why I was running Refulgent.”
“I hope he does well,” she said with a smile.
“He was sired by Black Dawn out of Queen of Thebes. Only a two-year-old. I expect great things of him in the future.”
“Did you breed him yourself?”
“No. My specialty is training, not breeding,” the man said, his voice thoughtful. “He was bred by Howard Gibson, at Strangeways’s stud.”
“Oh yes? Lady Strangeways is sitting across the room. She and the viscount are visiting. We are to go to Newmarket together.”
He looked about him.
“She is the brunette in the dark-blue muslin. I shall introduce you.”
“Perhaps in a moment,” he said. “I’d like to tell her what a shame it is about their jockey, Simpson. He was one of the best.”
Marianne decided to push him a little. “Have you any further ideas about who might have done such a horrible thing? Surely you must. I am so concerned for Lord Strangeways and his operation. He is a close family friend.”
“I have had a chance to talk to quite a few of the owners. Most of them feel that someone hired the trainer to drug Virginia’s Prize. We think the jockey figured it out and confronted him and was murdered.”
“Whoever will replace him? Surely that has some bearing on who people will bet on.”
“Jockey named Billy Boxer. He is very good. I don’t think that should alter things at all.” The man looked down at her, and Marianne read admiration in his eyes.
She pressed her advantage. “Have you any idea of the big picture? Do you think Virginia’s Prize was targeted by an owner or a bettor?”
“I say, you have been giving this a bit of thought, haven’t you?” His heavy eyebrows lowered, and he leaned toward her. “There is a dark side to racing, dear lady. I wouldn’t go poking into this to satisfy your curiosity.”
She was startled by his open speech. “I suppose you are right. But what gave you the idea I was ‘poking into it’?”
Captain Saunders entered the room at that moment and came over to them. Marianne was suddenly glad of his presence. His face wore a frown. Apparently she looked shaken, for he said, “What have you been saying to upset the lady, Webbingford?”
“Just giving her the word that she should not try to investigate this matter with Simpson. It could be dangerous for her. Ladies sometimes don’t realize that the world has its ugly side.”
She looked daggers at the captain. “Oh, I have. Now I think I will just go have a word with Lady Strangeways. She just arrived from the country.”
Standing, she walked across to where Virginia was sitting by the fire.
“Did you bring Angelique with you from Kent?” Marianne asked, as she took a seat on the sofa next to her friend.
“Of course. I could not leave the little thing. I brought Mammy, too. I find I must keep the baby well swaddled. She is not used to the cool climate. Spring at home is soft and warm. But neither of us miss the thunderstorms, which can be quite violent.” Looking around them swiftly, she said sotto voce, “Tony tells me you and the captain are looking into poor Simpson’s murder.”
“Yes. And I have just been warned to keep my nose out of it by one of the owners.” Marianne repeated what Lord Webbingford had said. “He was just being a overly worried, I think. He thinks me a flower of brainless femininity.”
“I agree, my friend. Leave it to the captain. It is too dangerous for you. Now, let us change the subject.” She lowered her voice and asked, “Has the captain managed to stir a heartbeat?”
Looking over at where the man stood, she saw that he was engaged in a lively conversation with Lord Webbingford. She pitched her voice low. “If he had, I would have only ignored it. I am not interested in a sea captain for a variety of reasons, chiefly because I want a husband who will be a husband and not spend his life elsewhere. I know it is very bourgeois of me, but there you have it.”
“I have wondered if you might not feel that way. I said so to Tony, but he thinks Captain Saunders’s charm will win out.”
“He is certainly charming.”
“Perhaps he will decide to give up the sea.”
She laughed. “Not likely. I do not think it is a good idea to expect a man to change.”
“You are probably correct,” said Virginia. “But whoever would have thought Tony and I would make a match of it? An American Republican marrying a British nobleman in the midst of a war between their two countries?”
“It does seem rather improbable. But I can tell you are happy. Were you not tempted to try to convince Tony to stay in America?”
“I almost dreaded going home because I thought I would never want to come back to England. But it turned out that once I freed my slaves, I was an outcast. I am really more at home in England now. My father is probably spinning in his grave.”
They laughed. At that moment, the captain joined them.
“I say, Lady Deveridge, whatever did you say to put the wind up Webbingford?”
Marianne frowned. “You know, I cannot think. I was only discussing racing with him. Did he tell you Refulgent is out of the race?”
“Yes. I am wondering if it was an intentional withdrawal. But we shall not discuss it here.”
Marianne registered a look of surprise on Virginia’s face and turned about to see what had caused it. Olivia Langdon stood there, her eyes trained on the captain.
“It seems you have a caller,” said Virginia.
Captain Saunders turned around, spotted the widow, and with a heavy show of reluctance went over to speak to her. Whatever he said was not to her liking; she took her leave.
Marianne’s color rose. Virginia noted it and said, “That woman is a pest. She was after Tony for a time before we were married.”
“I am grateful to her, actually,” said Marianne. “She reminds me that Captain Saunders and I have no future. I admit that I sometimes forget that.”
Chapter Twelve
Ernest was happy to see his friend Joseph Abernathy reading a newspaper at Brooks’s the next evening.
“Abernathy! Good to see you. Come have a drink on me. I’ve invited a few people in this evening.”
The former sea captain’s face lit with pleasure. “Don’t mind if I do.” Getting up, he came over and joined the group. Since it had been assembled with the love of the turf in mind, the man was soon involved in speculations about the coming race.
From what Ernest could gather, by far the majority of those in attendance were of the opinion that Virginia’s Prize was finished as a race horse. A very few thought that Simpson had been throwing the races. They saw the horse making a spectacular comeback.
Abernathy belonged to the first group.
“Even if the horse was only drugged, that sort of thing leaves its mark on a horse’s overall health,” he said. “Plus he has a new jockey. I don’t think Billy Boxer is half the rider that Simpson was.”
The group Abernathy was in fell to speculating about Simpson’s murder. To Ernest’s surprise, there were a few men who suspected the Strangeways’s stud.
Webbingford objected strongly. “Howie Gibson is as straight as a die. He would never be involved in a murder. You’ll have to look elsewhere. Has anyone even thought of Bert Huggins as a suspect?”
The group he was addressing had no idea of whom he was speaking.
“The stable minder,” Webbingford said. “Has just as much access to the horses as the trainers, the jockeys, and the owners. He could have been paid to drug Virginia’s Prize just as well as any of the others.”
Ernest thought it was time he inserted a prod. “It seems to me there is no chance of anyone being brought up on charges. There’s no proof pointing to anyone.”
“We’ll just watch and see who benefits,” said Webbingford. “Don’t think we won’t.”
The topic was thrown about with no further insights offered. Ernest decided the entire affair had only been a waste of good whiskey on his part. He would have invited Tony to keep his ear to the ground also but had been afraid his friend’s presence might stem speculation. As far as he could tell, he was absolutely no further along in his investigation.
* * *
He joined the party at Beau’s for breakfast.
“All of the owners fear one of them paid the murderer, but speculation about who the murderer is was rampant. The stable door minder was even mentioned,” he told them.
“What about the bettors?” asked Lady Deveridge. “Were any of them there?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Divided between those who think the horse was drugged and will never win again and those who think he will have a great comeback.”
“The devil’s in it, that’s for sure,” said Strangeways. “Sorry, ladies.”
“Bingham is under the hatches,” said Ernest. “That fact was bandied about without any specific accusations.”
“Remember, Webbingford warned me not to get involved with this,” Lady Deveridge said. “I do not know if that means anything, however.”
Tony spoke, “Bertie would never forgive me if anything happened to you, Marianne.”
The lady fidgeted. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”
Ernest felt a worm of concern in his breast. He vowed to keep her under his eye while they were at the races. She was a game little thing, but Webbingford was right to warn her. As though she hadn’t nearly died already. Except for her day in the park, she hadn’t been out in public since.
Suppose someone had a second go at her when they were at the races? Was it really safe to take her out?
She looked exceptionally lovely today, with her lively eyes the color of cornflowers.
Where the devil are my thoughts taking me? I’m no poet! Keep your mind on task!
After breakfast, the captain decided to visit Mallory, his man of business, in the City. Taking a cab, he tried to sort out the little bits and pieces he had overheard at the club. There was still nothing that particularly stood out in his mind.
Mallory was available, fortunately. A spare man with a florid complexion and spectacles, he stood at Ernest’s entrance, holding out his hand. “Captain, I had heard you were in town. Welcome back!”
Shaking the man’s hand, he said, “Thank you for all of your correspondence. I was gratified that you managed to keep my affairs in such good order. The investments
seem to be doing well.”
“Your prize money has been considerable. Congratulations! When do you return to sea?”
“I have six months’ leave,” he said. “Now, I wonder if you are willing to engage in a little espionage for me.” Taking out the lists of owners and high-flying bettors Tony and Abernathy had given him, he said, “There has been a murder. Lord Stangeways’s jockey has been killed. Rumor is that it was one of the race horse owners or a high-flying bettor. Here are a couple of lists. Could you give me a general idea of the state of their financial affairs? I know Bingham is in debt, but I haven’t a clue as to the rest. I should like a general idea before the King’s Plate race, which comes up next week.”
Mallory took a moment to look over the list. “This shouldn’t be too onerous a task. I don’t represent any of these men, so that shouldn’t be a problem. You want just a general idea, correct? No specific amounts.”
“Correct. You may just drop me a note. Preferably before we leave for Newmarket on Wednesday next.”
Ernest spent the afternoon playing billiards at Brooks’s, then took an early dinner with one or two of his friends he hadn’t seen since coming ashore. They played a bit of vingt-et-un, and then he took his leave. Without much thought, he gave the cabbie an old paramour’s address.
When the cabbie pulled up to the tall, narrow house in Half Moon Street, Ernest felt a heavy lassitude descend over him. What was he doing? He didn’t even like this woman. She was tiresome as a toothache.
The image of Lady Deveridge materialized in his consciousness. He would much rather be contemplating an evening with her. He thought of her soft, milky skin, her saucy mouth, and how disappointed in him she would be if she knew where he was.
Paying the cabbie, he got out, but once on the street, he couldn’t bring himself to approach the door. Instead, he took off on foot for the walk back to Wellingham House.
He arrived after ten o’clock, and it appeared that the whole family was out at one of Arabella’s entertainments. He let himself into Beau’s library with the intention of having a drink. The fire was lit, for which he was grateful. There was a nip in the air. Walking over to the fireplace, he poured himself a whiskey from the decanter that was on the mantel. Only then did he notice Lady Deveridge curled up on the sofa facing the fire, a book in her lap. He felt the familiar zing of his senses he was becoming accustomed to when she was near.