Page 49

Mr Brabazon got up from his seat and prepared to escort her back to their mounts, but Sybella was still heated. ‘You must know that a young woman of breeding does not have an independent life unless she is very rich or marries well. Poor and unmarried, her future can look bleak indeed.’

‘Precisely so. You make my case better than I did for wealth bringing freedom and choice.’ He stood aside to let her leave the room.

‘Then it’s society and education that has to change,’ she said haughtily.

‘I agree.’ His voice was conciliating. ‘But how will you effect this, my fair warrior?’ She looked at him sharply. Was he laughing at her? But her defiant green eyes met merely the coolest gaze, as if amusement at her expense was furthest from his mind.

‘That is precisely the problem, Mr Brabazon. My sex precludes me from doing anything. But I can bring my son up to become a law maker, just in the causes of all.’ She swept out of the inn, her head high and her skirts held up by her left hand. He bowed in acquiescence, a wry smile on his lips, and walked through to the stables to collect Gem and their horses. Was that a little chuckle under his breath as he went, she wondered, surprising herself with how cross she still felt.

It was Mr Brabazon again who offered to help her mount Scipio and she knew it would be churlish to ask Gem instead. He seemed to sense her reluctance and with a glint in his eye grasped her firmly round the waist and tossed her into the saddle, as effortlessly as if she were a featherweight, which she knew most certainly she was not. Perhaps his sparring practice at Gentleman Jackson’s studio in Bond Street was more than mere affectation.

‘Thank you, Mr Brabazon,’ she said, now quite amused herself by their unexpected tiff.

They set off again on the highway. The great trees of Richmond Park were like a mirage shimmering on the horizon, urging them onwards. Sybella felt much less wary of Mr Brabazon’s usually lofty manner. He had revealed something of his heart and this gave her a kind of fellowship with him. But it did not mean she had lost her desire to ruffle his imperturbable, infuriating sang-froid. After about half a mile of easy talk about the surrounding farms and the likelihood of rain, Sybella thought she might test the waters on his seemingly implacable resistance to his ward’s marrying anyone other than his own choice.

‘Despite your low opinion of Lord Lynwood, I think Lucie really likes him. And he appears to return her affection.’ Sybella turned an innocent face towards her companion.

‘I’ve noticed,’ he said grimly. They rode on a few paces, and he met her gaze with a small ironic smile. ‘I’ve also noticed that Miss Carey is betrothed to Lord Ravenell, heir to the Duke of Ely and his great estate, a very fine match indeed.’

‘Is there anything you fail to notice, Mr Brabazon?’ She greeted this sally with amusement.

‘Very little, my dear Mrs Lovatt. It is my curse.’ They both laughed.

Richmond Park surprised Sybella with its beauty. It had all the attractions of true country for which her soul was famished but somehow the sylvan landscape was compacted and romanticised, as if it were a painting by the great Joseph Wright. They entered through the Richmond Gate, stately in its Palladian style. ‘It’s so grand. It’s wide enough for three carriages,’ she exclaimed.

‘That’s quite recent. When I used to come with my father, there was just a wooden gate and a stile.’ The horses knew they were somewhere that promised freedom and threw up their heads and sniffed the air.

‘Where can we let them have a gallop?’

‘Let’s go towards Sheen Wood, there’s a good flat piece of open land where we can give them their heads.’

‘Do you mean we should have a race?’ Sybella turned towards him, wide-eyed. She had never raced anyone other than Lucie at home and then in the most informal way. She was sure there was some impropriety involved in a young woman racing a man but had not come all this way not to have some fun.

Mr Brabazon glanced across at her with a look that was almost as roguish as his ward’s would have been. ‘Why not? You’re much lighter than I am, but Scipio isn’t as big and strong. So perhaps I’ll give you a few yards on me.’

Sybella’s heart beat faster. She so badly wanted to show her mettle and skill. Could she even better him in a race? His reputation as one of the best horsemen in London made the thought quite delicious. She knew she was good, a natural horsewoman, her husband had called her, but she could not expect to be as skilful as Mr Brabazon. She turned to her faithful groom, who had known her since she was a girl. ‘Gem, shall I race Mr Brabazon and Hades? Do you think Scipio and I stand a chance?’

Gem chuckled. ‘Don’t know how good the opposition is, Miss Bella, but you’re as good as any lady I’ve seen. But be careful. That Scipio’s got the devils in him. He’s itching for a fight.’

They had come upon the large green sward and Mr Brabazon pointed out the furthest copse of trees. ‘If we race from here to that copse, it’s about half a mile. Are you happy with that, Mrs Lovatt?’ Sybella looked around carefully. She was relieved there was no one else about. The land looked quite flat and she hoped there were no great rabbit burrows to catch a hoof in. She was nervous and she could feel through the reins that Scipio was quivering with anticipation. She nodded. She looked across at Mr Brabazon and noticed with a shock just how magnificent and confident he looked in the saddle, and how enormous and strong was his horse. Hades was as glossy as glass and as black as night, side-stepping and swishing his tail with his ears pricked forwards ready for the contest. Her own Scipio was standing calmly enough but she could feel his excitement through the reins and his ears were twitching and alert. She knew he was less expressive, but his energy was coiled, just waiting to be released.

Mr Brabazon turned to Gem. ‘How much of a handicap should I carry? What head start for your mistress?’

‘Over that distance, give her fifty yards.’

‘Mrs Lovatt, when Gem drops his handkerchief then you set off and after fifty yards, by that oak tree, I estimate, I’ll let Hades loose. Are you up for it?’ The merriness in his eyes made it clear what a sportsman he was and how much he enjoyed this kind of impromptu combat. He removed his curly-brimmed hat and gave it to Gem and Sybella undid her bonnet and did the same.

Sybella and Mr Brabazon rode up to the makeshift starting line and as they approached, Gem lifted his hand holding his red cotton handkerchief, and quickly let it fall. Sybella gave Scipio his head and he took off like a cork out of a bottle. Quickly he was in a full-stretched gallop and Sybella thrilled to the power beneath her and the speed of their passage through the air. In no time, she had passed the oak tree and knew that Hades would soon be close on her heels. She could hear the approaching thunder of hooves and her heart beat faster with a thrill that was close to fear. Scipio twitched his ears. He recognised he was now in a race and, finding his second wind, leapt ahead.

The copse that marked the finishing line was approaching fast and Scipio did not seem to be tiring. But to the left of her, Sybella could see the great black head of Hades, his nostrils flaring, his mane streaming, inexorably gaining on them. She glanced back quickly over her shoulder and there was the dark form of Mr Brabazon, his face intent, his teeth clenched with effort and his dark hair windswept and unruly. Sybella urged Scipio on and just managed to reach the copse with about a head to spare. The horses wheeled off as they slowed to a canter and then dropped their pace to a trot.

‘Congratulations, Mrs Lovatt.’ Mr Brabazon set Hades trotting towards her and he grasped her hand to shake it in a sportsmanlike way. Sybella, still flushed and breathless and leaning forward to pat Scipio, smiled up at him.

‘That was so exciting. Thank you.’ She dashed a hand through her curls, suddenly self-conscious at how much her hair was in disarray.

‘You’re the best horsewoman I’ve ever seen.’ She felt a shock of pleasure. ‘That’s a big, high-bred horse for a woman to handle. Well done, Mrs Lovatt, well done.’

She had never tested her skill before and now she had, it was exhilarating. She turned a glowing face towards him and he met her ecstatic gaze with a gleam in his eyes. He was about to say something when Gem rode up, grinning with admiration.