The Sergeant Major's Daughter by Sheila Walsh Read Free Book Online Page A

my boy.” Felicity was beginning to feel uncomfortable under that sardonic eye. “Well, Miss Vale, we must find you a suitable mount. I should have thought of it sooner. Would you care to come now and choose?” With Jamie clinging tightly to her hand, she again walked down the line of stalls—and was again drawn irresistibly to the bay mare.
    “Starlight? You are ambitious, Miss Vale. Can you manage her, do you think?”
    Felicity detected a note of amused skepticism and rose impulsively to the challenge.
    “I believe so, sir. At any rate, I should like to try.”
    “Very well. You may put her through her paces.”
    She looked up, startled. “You mean ... now ?”
    “Why not. There is no time like the present,” said my lord blandly. “You do have riding dress?”
    “Yes, of course, but... ”
    “Cold feet, Miss Vale?” he suggested.
    “Certainly not!” she retorted with spirit. “But there is Jamie...”
    “Nurse will cope adequately for a short time. Benson will have Starlight saddled while you deliver Jamie into her charge—and change your dress. You may have twenty minutes.”
    There was a curious silence when she had left the yard. Benson, squarely built and forthright of manner, coughed and shuffled his feet.
    “Beggin’ your pardon, m’lord—but that Starlight is no fit mount for a lady, and I’m surprised at your countenancing such folly when there’s a sweet-natured hack like Amber just waiting to be exercised.”
    “Doubtless I had my reasons.” The Earl’s manner discouraged argument.
    “Well, it’s courting disaster if you ask me,” the groom persisted stubbornly. “A nice young lady like that!”
    “I am not asking you,” said my lord gently. “You are a prince among grooms, Benson—I have often remarked it, but do not be so foolish as to trade on my good opinion; I do not pay you to air your views. You will oblige me by doing as you are bid—and you may have Vulcan saddled for me.”
    Felicity came back into the stable yard looking confident and business-like—and inches taller in a riding habit of dark green wool. The close-fitting jacket with black frogging emphasized the junoesque proportions of her figure. A severe, high-crowned shako in black, trimmed with the same dark green, completed her outfit, together with a pair of soft black leather gloves.
    The sight of the two horses being walked by a couple of young stable hands brought an instant thrill, followed by slight misgivings. On closer inspection, the young mare displayed an uncomfortable degree of temperament; Felicity hoped she would be equal to her impulsive boast. As for that raking black hunter ... she swung around to the Ear l. “You are riding with me, my lord?”
    “Naturally, Miss Vale. You do not suppose that I would permit you to ride unaccompanied.”
    Was she imagining the note of fiendish anticipation? The suspicion that he was expecting her to make a cake of herself put an added sparkle in her eye. She accepted his compliments on her appearance with a composure she was far from feeling and allowed herself to be led to the mounting block.
    Starlight greeted her in the usual way, but the moment Felicity settled i nto the saddle she could feel the packed-down energy waiting to erupt. She commanded the groom to let go and in the ensuing seconds forgot Stayne and all else in her efforts to thwart the mare’s manifest determination to unseat her.
    She was vaguely aware of faces—white blurs only at first as the horse caracoled, backing and rearing in an attempt to dislodge her; figures revolved like a crazy roundabout—Benson, granite-jawed, crouched, swaying lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to spring; pop-eyed stable lads, and Stayne’s young tiger, eyes bigger than the rest, shouting encouragement. But, above all, there was Stayne, tense, the scar showing lividly against one cheekbone, eyes narrowed as though gauging the exact moment he would intervene.
    The mere possibility lent Felicity