Just Deserts (4 page)

‘
Call you
Pen
? I would be
honoured.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘But as it is quite incorrect that I
should do so, you will have to bear with
Miss Winsford.
In
company, that is—Pen.’

He said it so softly that her eyes danced and she glanced
about to see if anyone was within earshot. But their attitude of
close conversation had ensured a certain privacy, skilfully
fostered by Lady Rossendale, who was only too pleased to have the
Arbiter approve her niece.

Miss Winsford saw no sign
of Chiddingly.

‘
Your friend has gone,’ she observed. ‘Who was he,
Fitz?’

Fitzwarren gazed at her in genuine horror. ‘Good God, Miss
Winsford, if we are to talk of manners—! I beg your pardon. In all
the bustle I forgot to introduce him. He is Baron Chiddingly.
Christopher Chiddingly, you know. One of the racing
men.’

‘
Oh, he likes horses?’ Her eyes lit with sudden
interest.

‘
Likes
is too
tame a word. Do you?’

‘
Me? Oh well, yes, but—but not as much as—I mean—’ She broke
off again, and laughed. ‘Oh dear, I must seem wretchedly
tongue-tied.’

‘
There is no need for embarrassment. I should perhaps tell
you that I know all about your escapade this morning.’

To his amusement, her eyes began that merry dance
and unquestionably she giggled. ‘Yes, I—I
do
ride.’

‘
Ride? I am led to believe you a nonpareil,’ he teased. ‘I
am tempted to rise hours before my time only to witness your
prowess. Should I meet you if I did so?’

The mischief in her face deepened. ‘It is
possible. But whether it would be worth the effort I cannot say.
You might not find my—my
Indian manners
quite
so agreeable as you thought.’

Chapter Two

‘
I tell
you,
she has a temper like the fiend.’

Fitzwarren shook his head. ‘I cannot believe
it.’

He sat at his ease in one of the comfortable chairs
provided by Mr Padiham in the cosy parlour set aside for those of
his patrons who came for the company and not to play at dice or
cards. It was a favourite haunt of the racing men, for Paddy, as
the proprietor was affectionately styled, had been a knowing tout
who had often put the gamesters on to a good thing. When he
retired, grown fat on the proceeds, he opened a discreet gaming
establishment which rapidly became the rage.

Fitz came for the play and the company, since Chid was not
the only one of his friends to all but desert the older and
stuffier White’s or Brooks’s.

It was a day or two since that memorable morning when the
outrageous Miss Winsford had burst into their lives, but Chiddingly
was still nursing his grievance.

‘
She behaved as though the entire episode had been wiped
from her mind. If there is one thing I cannot abide, it is
duplicity.’

‘
Perhaps she had genuinely forgotten,’ Fitz
suggested.

Chiddingly gave a short laugh. ‘If she had, then she is
either a madwoman or a fool.’

‘
Well, she is certainly not a fool.’ A reminiscent smile
hovered on Fitz’s lips. ‘And though she might be considered
eccentric, I cannot think her insane.’

‘
It is as I told you,’ Chiddingly said with impatience,
turning to the fire where he stood with one hand resting on the
mantelpiece, and kicking the logs in the grate with an impatient
foot. ‘She may be as charming as you please in a drawing-room, but
the woman has the temper of the devil when she is
roused.’

‘
Well, for the love of heaven, man, so too have you,’ Fitz
said, exasperated. ‘Do you mean to turn your back on a fortune
merely for a fault you have yourself?’

His friend looked at him. ‘For that, no. But for a liar and
a cheat, yes.’

There was a brief pause. Fitzwarren broke it, his tone
strangely despondent. ‘That is what puzzles me.’

‘
There is nothing to puzzle over. She had a use for you, so
she must needs employ arts to attract. As for myself, no doubt she
saw how her conduct must seem in the eyes of society had I chosen
to put the tale about, so she pretended to forget. And when that
failed she enacted a pretty little scene of contrition.’

‘
If that is so,’ Fitz declared obstinately, ‘then my
judgement of character is sadly at fault.’

Chiddingly tossed off his wine and set the glass down on
the mantelpiece with a snap. ‘Perhaps you think I invented the
tale?’

Fitz’s quizzing twinkle dawned. ‘Well, in one of your
hot-headed moods, you are inclined to exaggeration, dear
boy.’

Chiddingly regarded the blue and yellow bruise which still
decorated his knuckles.

‘
Exaggeration, eh? Very well,
Arbiter.
Accompany me to the park tomorrow morning. Then we shall
see.’

‘
Good God, must I?’ Fitz groaned.

‘
If you wish to settle the question, yes.’

But when, in spite of a good deal of complaint and protest,
Chiddingly inexorably led him to the park at the outrageously early
hour of half-past seven the next morning, it seemed they were
doomed to disappointment.

Though they rode for half an hour, there was no sign of
Miss Winsford.

‘
Or, for the matter of that, anyone else,’ said Fitz in
disgust. ‘For the love of heaven, let us go home! I am chilled to
the marrow, and besides having had little sleep, I am like to
contract an inflammation of the lung in this hideous
damp.’

‘
Nonsense. It has doubtless done your constitution a power
of good.’

But he turned towards the gate that would lead them out of
Hyde Park and back into Piccadilly. They had not ridden more than a
few yards when the sound of several sets of hoofs was heard,
together with the rattle of wheels.

A vehicle swept into view around the bend ahead. It was
travelling at breakneck speed, and the two horses were hurriedly
wheeled apart to seek the safety of the turf at either side of the
wide road that ran through the park.

They both watched the rapid approach of a stylish phaeton
pulled by a team of good-looking bays which Chiddingly instantly
recognised. They had been his own, sold at auction by Richard
Tattersall last year and ending up in Rossendale’s
stables.

His incredulous gaze took in the driver. Clad once again in
an overlarge gentleman’s frieze greatcoat, golden hair escaping
from under the big cocked hat and flying behind, was seated Miss
Winsford. Perched quite alone, whip at an excellent angle in one
hand, and reins threaded between her competent fingers, she drove
her team at the gallop with an apparent unconcern for life or
limb.

The phaeton flashed by and Chiddingly turned his stunned
eyes to his friend on the opposite side of the road to find Fitz
gazing after the phaeton with his mouth agape.

‘
What did I tell you?’ he yelled.

Then he wheeled his mount and set off in pursuit. He was
aware in a moment of Fitz’s long-tailed black thundering beside
him, and their two horses had no difficulty in overtaking the
phaeton which had slowed for the next bend.

‘
Miss Winsford!’ Chiddingly called. ‘Miss Winsford, I
say!’

She turned her head and saw the riders, automatically
checking her team as she did so. Her eyes passed over Fitzwarren
without a change and came to rest on Chiddingly. They
narrowed.

‘
You again!’ she said explosively, and the voice was once
more husky and low. ‘What do you want of me?’

‘
Are you completely out of your mind?’ he demanded. ‘This
neck-or-nothing style will not do for London, let me tell you,
whatever may have been acceptable in Bombay.’

Her eyes blazed. ‘Do you dare
again
to
censure my conduct?’

‘
I care nothing for your conduct. It is those horses that
concern me. If they have not strained a tendon apiece I must count
it a miracle.’

‘
You have the temerity to criticise my driving,
too?’

‘
You were not
driving
those cattle,
madam. You were slaughtering them!’

A tide of angry red flooded the classic features and a
snarl of rage contorted the fine lips.

‘
You may go to the devil!’ she spat, and began to tug at the
reins.

‘
Miss Winsford!’ Fitz called out. ‘Miss Winsford,
wait!’

‘
And take your friend there with you!’

Then the lady whipped up her horses and the phaeton leapt
forward in a swirl of dust.

Fitzwarren gazed after it in blank amazement. ‘I wouldn’t
have believed it.’

Chiddingly ground his teeth. ‘If I could but get my hands
on her! Look at that reckless pace. She will kill those
horses.’

‘
Gammon,’ said Fitz, reviving. ‘It may be a wicked pace, but
by God she is an excellent whip. Why, I have not seen even you do
better, Chid.’

But Chiddingly was in no humour to give credit to the
lady’s undoubted driving skill.

‘
And the violence of her temper,’ he pursued. ‘Do you see?
Where is the vaunted charm of manner now?’

‘
Come now, Chid, you did set up her back,’ Fitz said
reasonably. ‘Though I confess she proved somewhat volcanic. I can
see it might be a trifle uncomfortable to be married to such a
female. You would never know when she might erupt.’

‘
Married to her? Why, I should never know a moment’s peace.
Nor, more importantly, should my horses.’

They had turned their own nags by now and were riding at a
steady pace towards the gate.

‘
Still, I am intrigued,’ Fitz said, the amusement creeping
back into his face. ‘She did not recognise me, you know. An
extraordinary girl. Full of surprises, even if some of them are
less than pleasant.’

‘
Ah, so you did not like it any more than I,’ Chiddingly
remarked, not without a touch of satisfaction.

‘
I did not like her temper,’ Fitz agreed. ‘And yet, you
know, she said to me something of the sort.’ He grinned. ‘It is my
belief she is an incorrigible little prankster. She told me she
wants to cut a dash. I wonder if perhaps all these equestrian larks
are expressly designed to that end.’

‘
Larks? I hope you are still so complaisant when she breaks
her neck. And in any event no one is about, so I fail to see how
she could achieve her objective if that were the case.’

Fitz nodded. ‘There is that. This becomes more and more
fascinating.’

‘
Oh, let us have done with Miss Winsford!’

They had left the park and were riding down Piccadilly.
Chiddingly grinned at his friend.

‘
I have a far more fascinating female for you to meet. To
tell the truth, it was for that I dragged you out this morning and
not for an infernal witch whom I don’t care if I never meet
again.’

If Viscount Fitzwarren found these words cryptic he did not
remain long in ignorance of their meaning. When he would have gone
home to change, Chiddingly prevented him.

‘
Premature, Fitz. The lady I spoke of is of the four-footed
variety.’

For a moment, the viscount was puzzled, then his brow
cleared. ‘Not another new horse?’

‘
Another? A boatload! Come back to my lodgings for breakfast
and we will set off as soon as may be.’

Fitz was willing enough to accompany him, but he thought it
proper to scold. ‘Here you are whistling a fortune down the wind,
and you tell me you have purchased another string of bloodstock.
Where have they come from?’

‘
I purchased them off a trader when I was in Constantinople
last year. Mostly Barb and Arab. At least that is what the rascally
fellow promised he would send. I had to take a job lot to get the
filly.’

It was no surprise to Fitzwarren that Chiddingly was again
importing horses. The best champions came from mixed Arabian and
English stock, and Chiddingly had made several trips to the Arab
lands and the Moorish countries of the North African Barbary coast.
Between Barb and Arabian there was little to choose. Both were
compact horses, with short backs, arched necks and fine small
heads. Large expressive eyes and full and flaring nostrils were
characteristic, as were their sensitivity and intelligence. The
Arabian had perhaps a little the advantage of speed, the Barb of
endurance. But either provided any breeder with a quality animal to
inject fresh blood into his stock to try to improve his
chances.

By the time they had partaken of a hearty breakfast, his
lordship’s man came to tell them that the team had been put to and
his lordship’s phaeton was at the door.

Fitzwarren’s quizzical gleam came into his eye as he saw
the horses that awaited them in the street. ‘Ah, the magnificently
unmatched team. Now I wonder what a certain young lady might say if
she witnessed this partisan flying in the face of
convention.’