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Stanhope bowed over my hand.
“It has been a great pleasure to meet you, Miss Wentworth. I stand in awe of your skill.”
“You are most kind, Mr. Stanhope. Thank you for your attentions.”
“May I escort you back to the house, my dear cousin Clarissa?”
Mountjoy positioned himself not quite in between Stanhope and myself, but most definitely placed to interrupt our conversation.
In truth there was little I wished less than Percival Mountjoy’s company, but there was no way to avoid it. Ignoring his outstretched arm, I nodded and strode out toward the house, pushing my steps in an effort to override the growing ache in my legs.
Mountjoy chattered incessantly during the suddenly interminable walk back across the overgrown lawn, but I scarcely listened. He seemed determined to impress me with the quality of his stable; perhaps he did have a good string of horseflesh, but was completely unaware of how far he had sunk in my estimation by the way he had acted with Saracen. Even the veriest cawker should know better than to grab at a spirited horse like that.
Stanhope had stood back, at the ready to move if necessary, while Saracen had expressed his displeasure that our ride was over, but remained perfectly still. Now there was a man who knew and respected good horseflesh. I could almost feel sorry for depriving him of Saracen, but I wanted that magnificent beast as I had never wanted anything before. He was the first thing that had truly sparked my interest since Father’s passing.
“So you agree?” Mountjoy asked in a warm tone. He had been babbling on almost constantly since we had left the stable yard, but I had been so enamoured with thoughts of Saracen - and to be honest, of riding with Stanhope - that I had paid no attention.
“I’m sorry,” I said with no feelings of repentance, but giving him a melting smile that I had long used to my advantage, “I was woolgathering. It is a terrible habit of mine and I fear you must show you forgive me by repeating what you have said, with which you expect me to agree.”
He tried, but he could not completely conceal the flash of anger followed by consternation which flickered over his face. For some reason, this only fuelled my growing contempt for him; was he so accustomed to having young ladies hang on his every utterance? If that were true, it did not paint English misses in a good light!
“I was saying that I agree with you that Saracen should stay in the family. Sir Mordecai was never a lover of horses, and has no appreciation of the noble beasts. Small wonder that the Wentworth stables have gone to rack and ruin under his rule. I have offered to purchase Saracen, but unfortunately my pockets are nowhere as deep as Stanhope’s, so he easily outbid me. Within a year of your purchase of Saracen the family stable should become one of the foremost in England.”
Much to the displeasure of my aching legs I stopped short and stared at him in amazement.
“You are saying that I should purchase Saracen and leave him here?”
He stammered, but the look of startlement on his face told me I was right.
“But my dear cousin, of course Saracen should stay. Who in the colonies could properly appreciate such a spectacular specimen?”
I could have named a dozen, both men and women, without a moment’s thought, but kept my mouth shut to keep from wasting breath.
“Besides, you cannot be serious about returning to such a primitive life, so it only makes sense that you and Saracen both stay. It is an eventuality I personally relish very much.”
With a smirk that he doubtless thought a smile he, reached for my hand, lifting it towards his lips.
I snatched it back with an insulting asperity. Harsh words bubbled behind my lips, and it was as hard a task as I have ever undertaken not to give them life. All I could do was give him a hard stare, then turn and stalk toward the house. So great was my fury that my legs seemed to cease to ache.
Chapter Three
Unfortunately, I could not leave all unpleasantnesses behind so easily. As soon as I walked into the house, Freeman informed me with suitable gravity that my grandfather was in the dining room, and I was to join him as soon as I had changed.
This was not an interview to look forward to. I had been dreaming of a short rest, but obviously such a respite was not to be granted. Painfully I climbed the stairs, wondering what would be the best way to handle Sir Mordecai. I wished my father were here. It might have been unpleasant for him, but at least he’d had the gravitas of being a son, a basis of negotiation I obviously lacked.
“You are come at last,” said Patience, closing the door of my room behind me. “Let me help you remove your habit.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked rather stupidly. “Where is Miss Brown? She should be here to help me dress.”
She looked startled. “She is already gone.”
“Gone?” I stood still as she peeled away my jacket. “But why? I know she is odious and a completely useless creature, but I need her to be my maid while I’m here.”
“I am here to help you now, and this afternoon I am to see if there is anyone on the staff who will serve, until we can get a proper maid down from London.”
“From London!” I gasped, totally astonished. “But who am I going to get to act as chaperone when I return home?”
She knelt at my feet, offering her shoulder for me to balance against as she removed my heavy skirt and petticoat.
