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“Is she all right?” he asked with concern as he headed for the stables.
“Cut her face a bit, but she’ll be all right. Take a look at the sharp studs on the inside of that halter.”
When he had gone, Antonia placed her hand over her still rapidly beating heart. “Oh, Roz, he was lying there so still and so pale, I thought he was dead, but he was only unconscious for a minute.”
Roz looked at her keenly. “You’ve had a real fright, darling. Come, I’ll give you a little brandy.”
Antonia shuddered and coughed, for as the brandy went down it took away her breath, but it certainly gave her a warm feeling of confidence as it spread like a red rose inside her chest. “I was overcome with fear when I saw him lying there. I felt utterly alone without him, as if I’d been abandoned.”
“Praise God it was only a little accident and not fatal. If anything happened to Anthony, we’d have more to worry about than missing him.”
“What do you mean?”
“That wretchedly smooth, fortune-hunting cousin of yours, Bernard Lamb, would inherit not only the title, but the Hall and the property that goes with it. Even the town house in London. You and I would be out on our derrieres to put it crudely.”
Antonia shivered as if a goose had walked over her grave, in spite of the brandy. She had lost all desire to go sailing. Instead she became thoughtful about how dependent women were upon their men. She picked up a book and wandered out to the garden, but it lay in her lap unread as one disturbing thought led to another.
Antonia didn’t even have any money of her own. The new tack would have to come out of Anthony’s allowance. She knew vaguely there was money for her dowry, but suddenly she felt humiliation sweep over her because she was going to have to find a husband to take care of her for the rest of her life.
How pitiful to be dependent upon a father, then passed on to a brother, then a husband. She had better find one before Anthony found himself a wife, or she would find her position intolerable. She would have a roof over her head on sufferance and her status would be no more than that of old spinster aunt to her brother’s children.
Antonia was not a young woman who acquiesced helplessly to a situation. She decided to go up to London and question the family solicitors. She would insist on knowing the amount of her dowry. If she decided against marriage, she wanted to know if she could have the money once she turned eighteen. She would also demand to know if she had been left anything in her father’s will, and if not, why not!
As children they had been treated as equals. Antonia had always assumed because they were twins, that theywereequals. Now that they were no longer children, the rules of the game had changed. Apparently a male was far more equal than a female.
Because they had never had secrets from one another, Antonia spoke to her brother about her intentions. Anthony showed no inclination to go up to London.
“Find out when that Savage fellow is coming. I’m going to the saddlery at Rochester to buy new harness and tack, so I’ll be in need of money soon.”
Roz and Antonia, accompanied by Mr. Burke, set off for London. The town house had servants aplenty, so they needed no maids, but Burke was indispensable. Roz felt safer traveling with another man besides their driver, Bradshaw.
“This trip to London will do us a world of good. Even though we cannot attend any balls, we can visit with Lady Jersey. Frances will fill us in on all the latest gossip.”
“How did you two come to be friends, Roz?” Antonia wondered out loud.
“Your grandfather, Lord Randolph, was a friend of the Earl of Jersey. I met her for the first time at her wedding, a very grand affair. Though she was a few years younger than I, we became fast friends because we seemed to have so much in common. We are exactly the same size and we both possess an acid tongue. When we attend the same function we are capable of terrorizing the assembly. She’s also a grandmother now, which proves that age simply sharpens the wit.”
Antonia and Mr. Burke exchanged amused glances. All were unaware that as the carriage gained speed, the large cast-iron nut holding the back wheel in place was gradually working itself loose.
Bradshaw was tooling along at such a rackety speed, Roz braced her feet on the seat opposite to keep her balance. “Bradshaw must think he’s Hellfire Dick!”
Antonia laughed. “Who, pray, is Hellfire Dick?”
“You never heard of him? Oh, Lord, you are such an innocent little rustic, darling. He drives the Cambridge Telegraph coach. He has a great gap between his two front teeth through which he spits with amazing accuracy.”
Antonia narrowed her eyes with skeptical amusement. “I’m not rustic enough to believe all your stories, Roz.”
“Darling, it’s gospel truth. Lord Ackers had his front teeth filed and paid Hellfire Dick fifty guineas to teach him to spit through them. London is chock-a-block with eccentrics. Coach-driving is one of the new ‘passions.’ Even women are dressing like coach-drivers and swearing at the horses, which are now called ‘cattle’ in fashionable circles.”
The carriage began to slow and Bradshaw pulled into the yard of a coaching inn. He jumped down and Mr. Burke opened the carriage door and stepped outside.
“Summat’s wrong. The coach is swaying about like a drunken lord,” Bradshaw announced, keeping a firm hand on the reins of the sweating horses.
“No bloody wonder. You drive like a maniac!” Roz accused through the window.
Bradshaw touched his tricorn and looked inordinately pleased.
Mr. Burke said, “Drive across the yard while I watch.”
