The Marquess and Miss Davies by Amy Lake Read Free Book Online Page B

Her own mount, Leopold—an animal she loved and missed terribly—had been left behind at Pencarrow, as Carys had decided that it would be selfish to subject an animal accustomed to the wild spaces of Cornwall to the traffic and chaos of town. As a result she now rode only occasionally, borrowing cattle from one friend or another, and then only when Talfryn could accompany her. Which of course he could not, of late. Her brother had suggested a year ago that he buy her another horse—we’ll find one who loves the city, he promised—but Carys had demurred, claiming it an unnecessary expense.
    What an idiot I’ve been , she thought, recognizing her real motive in refusing Tal’s offer. I’ve been like a sulky child, who refuses to play if she can’t have the best toy. The truth was that she had turned up her nose at the parks of London. She told herself that they had nothing to offer her, au young woman who was accustomed to ride for hours over the moors of Cornwall without seeing another soul.
    But Hyde Park was really quite large. And perhaps Lord Harcourt would accompany her, as Tal sometimes had, as far as Richmond Park, where one might see fallow deer.
    So, two horses. The viscount could well afford them, as Carys had known all along.
    * * * *
    But which two? The common idea in those days was to give a frightened rider the oldest and slowest of animals, a plodder who could be relied upon never to lift an unnecessary hoof. Carys very much disagreed. A horse like that was likely to have been poorly trained—why would one bother?—and none too intelligent. She needed a smart, self-possessed animal who could handle a frightened young woman on its back.
    A horse knows when its rider is nervous and scared. It tends to make them nervous as well.
    And so Benjamin Harcourt received a short note the morning just after Carys made her pact with Isa, a note suggesting that he accompany Miss Davies to Tattersall’s the very next day, where his assistance was needed in the selection of a pair of ladies’ mounts.
    Lord Harcourt replied that he would be perfectly happy to do so.
     

Chapter 10: Mr Torvald
     
    The evening before her expedition with Benjamin Harcourt to Tattersall’s, Carys again went to the Royal Society, drawn by the combination of Sir Everard Home speaking on the nests of the Java swallow, and the chance to advance her acquaintance with Mr Torvald.
    Isolde merely rolled her eyes. “Why are you encouraging that nodcock?”
    “He’s hardly a nodcock! He’s an intelligent, sensible gentleman.”
    “Who does not recognize you.”
    That was a shot, indeed, and Isolde immediately apologized.
    “I am sorry,” she said, hugging her sister.
    “I know you are only—”
    “Which you can—”
    “—but—”
    “In any event—”
    “‘Tis my choice—” said Carys, shrugging.
    Isa sighed. “Only do not forget,” she said, “the Lincolnshire’s ball.”
    * * * *
    They spoke at the first interval, after a somewhat dry presentation on the temperature of sea water.
    “Miss Davies!” said Mr Torvald, brightening as he saw her near the refreshments table, making a selection of a small sandwich and pastry. Carys had decided to take Isa’s advice on this occasion, and eschew hiding in a corner, inconspicuous.
    And the sweet biscuits did look, surprisingly, quite good.
    “Mr Torvald,” said Carys.
    “How marvelous to see you!”
    She wondered if he was attempting to make up for their last encounter.
    “Did you enjoy Sir Archibald’s description of his recent work?” she asked. Sir Archibald had been the first speaker that evening.
    “Entirely!” said Mr Torvald, with more enthusiasm than he had shown on any previous occasion. “Entirely! I believe he is entirely correct to ignore Wollaston’s objections.”
    “Ah,” said Carys, “then you believe that Mr Wollaston is mistaken?”
    “Very possibly, yes.”
    They chatted rather amiably for a few minutes, and Carys had nearly forgotten her