Fortunate Wager by Jan Jones Read Free Book Online Page B

laughter.
    In the catching-up bustle outside the church, which Caroline privately thought was the major reason most of her mother’s acquaintance attended the devotions, she was surprised to see Mr d’Arblay make a point of distinguishing Harry, asking him how many stable-hands Solange had crippled so far. ‘Only two,’ replied Harry in the same cheerful tones, ‘and they both have a spare foot, so we haven’t lost any work through it.’
    Giles laughed and declared Harry to be enviously game. His eyes wandered past Caroline and settled on Selina. It being obvious from her close bonnet that she was not yet out, although she might as well be, the amount their mother took her about ‘ to get her accustomed, you know ’, he made her an elaborately regretful bow and moved on. Harry spotted some friends and strolled away from the family party likewise.
    ‘Miss Fortune,’ said a cool voice.
    Caroline could hardly believe her ears. Lord Rothwell was addressing her! ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said affably. ‘I didn’t see you there.’  
    Was that a twitch at the corner of his mouth? ‘Kindly appriseyour brother of my intention to call at Penfold Lodge tomorrow morning. I would do it myself, but I perceive your mother to be issuing invitations of some description and would as lief be away before she progresses this far.’
    Did he mean to offend or was he so arrogant that he simply didn’t care?
    ‘Certainly I will let him know,’ replied Caroline, anger giving her words an edge and reminding her of another cause of offence, ‘but pray do not bring Jessop with you. He has difficulty enough comprehending the words “not on our property”. Flood was obliged to eject him only yesterday.’
    Lord Rothwell looked sardonic. ‘Doubtless he was visiting an acquaintance amongst your grooms.’
    ‘They say not. Our men do not think very highly of him. Or his morals.’
    ‘And what do you mean by that, may I ask?’
    ‘Merely that he gave every impression of spying – in order to put himself at an advantage, perhaps, when it comes to the betting for Solange’s race.’
    Caroline had not thought his lordship’s expression could grow any more austere. She was wrong. ‘I trust you do not think I had anything to do with his being at your brother’s establishment?’ he said, white-lipped.
    ‘Why, no. There would be no need. An owner, you know, must be welcome to see his horse whenever he chooses.’ A loud shout of indecorously unSabbath laughter drew her attention to the knot of young men and reminded her of Solange’s idiosyncrasy. ‘But only the owner, if you please, not his friends.’
    ‘I must say, you express yourself very freely for one who merely writes the reports for her brother.’
    ‘That is because Harry has too much bonhomie to enforce his own rules. I have no popularity to lose. Oh, I see Mama approaching. Would you care to be introduced?’
    ‘Your servant, Miss Fortune,’ he said, in tones of total dislike, and left.

CHAPTER FOUR
    M ONDAY MORNING. SIX o’clock. Alex reflected savagely that the majority of his acquaintance were no doubt asleep at this moment, most of them asleep in busy, lively, important London. But here was he, staring at the ceiling of a Newmarket coaching inn, thoroughly awake and already suffering from a surfeit of boredom. He rolled out of bed and irritably rattled open the curtains, ready to aggravate himself some more by looking out on a tedious, empty day.
    His preconceptions received a sharp shock. Tradesmen’s carts trundled along the High Street. Shutters were folded back and the street washed down. Maids were abroad marketing. Maids! Alex disremembered seeing such a homely sight in Newmarket before and couldn’t help recalling Caroline Fortune’s pithy remark about servants not setting foot out of doors during a racing week.
    Were his fellow bucks and bloods that perilous? Surely not. But Alex was fair-minded and reluctantly conceded that when in Newmarket,