Page 66 of Managing the Major

“Yes, word has gotten out, and there are wagers on the race already. So much for a quiet match-up.” Richard buttered his toast, foregoing jam. “The luggage should be on the carriage by now. Let’s leave in fifteen minutes, shall we? I see you received my note about leaving your valet behind, Major. Stephens is more than capable of helping us both. Marie can ride with him in the landau, Octavia.”

“So Jerome is coming with us? He’s Richard’s very entertaining stable manager I mentioned to you, Alastair.”

“Yes, I remember. He helped you with Lucifer.”

“The races would be nothing without Jerome’s lively commentary,” Richard said drily. “And no matter how he rises in the world, he won’t give up the post of my tiger.”

“How long do you suppose it will be before we reach our destination?” Alastair asked. “I haven’t been to Epsom since I was a boy.”

“I would guess two hours at a moderate pace; there is no need to rush,” Richard replied. “Octavia told me your father owned some fine racehorses in his day.”

“He loved the sport and always had one or two good ones in training. I always enjoyed going with him on the days they raced.”

“Was your father a military man as well?”

“No, as firstborn, he inherited the responsibility for our modest estate in Lewisham. My uncle, however, served as a corporal in the early Napoleonic Wars.”

“Fairfax is a splendid manor, Richard, on a lovely piece of property. Alastair is very unassuming.” Octavia pushed aside her plate, and Freya woke from her nap, stretching. “I’m ready to leave if you are.”

“Is Freya accompanying us?” Alastair asked, bending to stroke the terrier’s pricked ears. She looked up at him lovingly.

“I think not. She becomes a bit excited if there’s a crowd, and I hate to leave her in our lodgings. I assume we’re staying at the King’s Head, Richard?”

“Yes, I’ve secured rooms and a private parlor for the weekend.”

Picking up Freya, Octavia hugged her tightly. “Be a good girl for grandmama while I’m gone.”

Outside, it looked to be a beautiful day, with a cerulean sky and billowing clouds. Two carriages, each with four horses, waited at the curb. Four white-stockinged bays stood harnessed to an elegant black traveling coach, and Jerome stood at the heads of the chestnut team with the landau.

“Miss Octavia, ’tis a pleasure ta see yer lookin’ so well.” After all his years in London, Jerome’s West Country accent was still thick. “And Major Alastair, sir, ’tis an honor, indeed.” He tipped his wool cap. “Stephens and Marie are in the landau, Lord Richard…will ye be wantin’ to drive?”

“No, I think not, Jerome. I’ll travel with my sister and the major.”

Octavia went over to Peter, who waited by the coach to see them off and receive instructions for her absence.

“Lucifer may have today off, Peter, but please take Thor into the park every day while I’m gone, and Lucifer on Saturday and Sunday. I think Sigrun is fine working at home; she can still be skittish in the streets.”

“Will do. Have a safe journey, Miss Octavia.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

Jerome climbed into the driver’s seat of the landau and unhooked the reins. “This is just another drive in the park, this is, Yer Lordship. We made this trip plenty o’ times in lessen two hours. I’m just glad that yon Peter Duffy ain’t driving none o’ the horses, Yer Lordship,” he muttered. “’E’s got himself a pair of right bad hands.”

Peter cast a sour look in Jerome’s direction.

Octavia grinned and rolled her eyes. “Jerome and Peter have this relentless need to outdo each other,” she explained to Alastair. “It has continued for years.”

Indeed, the rivalry between the two horsemen dated back to their time at Merrick House together, when Jerome served as her riding instructor and Peter was just a groom.

“See if you can manage not to offend anyone else during this excursion, Jerome,” Richard admonished, shaking his head.

The tiger nodded and took up the whip. “Aye, Lord Richard.”

Alastair opened the door to the traveling coach, offering his hand to help her inside, where she settled into the thick damask cushions. He continued to clasp her fingers longer than was proper, caressing her gloved palm with his thumb, then released his hold and followed her inside, taking the opposite seat.

Octavia reached up to straighten the brim of her new straw bonnet, which was accented with teal and cream-colored ribbons.

“That is quite a fetching hat, Octavia.”