HartsLove (24 page)

Three days before the Derby, they told Rose and Lily about the parcel. They all went to the stable. Rose stared. The parcel was still untouched. ‘What's inside?' she asked.

‘We don't know,' said Clover or Columbine truthfully.

‘Where did it come from?'

The twins exchanged glances. ‘We think it's come from Aunt Barbara.'

Rose sat down with a crash. ‘Oh no,' she said. ‘Oh no. Pa's done it, hasn't he? He's sold up and Aunt Barbara's sent us – I don't know – sent us something – packing cases – travelling cloaks – something . . .' She bowed her head. ‘I know The One's not really going to win the Derby, but Pa might have waited until it was over. Daisy and Garth coming back to this?' She gestured at the package as though it was filled with snakes. ‘How could he?'

Clover or Columbine tried to interrupt.

‘It
is
Aunt Barbara's writing,' Lily said, wringing her hands.

‘It might as well be the hangman's!' The writing made Rose weepy. She had not seen her aunt's hand since before their mother left.

‘Oh, will you both LISTEN?!' shouted Clover and Columbine together. They had expected Rose to be angry, not to weep. And what did a hangman have to do with anything? Defensive, they gabbled. ‘We found a letter from Aunt Barbara with the Light Brigade. The writing was hard to read, but the address was printed on the top and it seems that Ma must have gone to her when she left and we wrote to Aunt Barbara's address because we thought she might still be there – Ma, that is, not Aunt Barbara – of course Aunt Barbara would be there. Anyway, we told her – Ma, that is, though obviously she wasn't there – that The One was going to win the Derby and that everything would be all right after, so she could come home, and we thought – we thought . . . well, we thought she might at least write back. Then this came.'

Rose had only picked up one sentence. She stopped weeping. ‘
You
wrote to Aunt Barbara?'

The twins nodded. Rose could shout at them now and that was fine. They were used to it. It was better than her weeping.

‘When did you write?'

‘Can't remember exactly. A bit before Daisy went.'

‘And who sent the letters for you?'

The twins touched shoulders. Rose suddenly realised that they had got quite tall and that their dresses were far too short. ‘Father Nameless,' they said together and clasped their hands. ‘Please, Rose, don't be angry with him. He didn't seem to mind, and we checked all our spelling in the letter against the spelling in the newspaper.'

Rose looked from them to the package. The same thought occurred to them all. The twins gasped. Of course! Aunt Barbara had written the address, but that did not mean there would not be another letter inside. They crept nearer to the parcel, eyeing it up. ‘You open it, Lily,' said Rose.

Lily put out a finger and touched the paper. The package was well wrapped for something of its size. The string required three sharp tugs to undo it. Lily slowly pulled away the paper, revealing a large box with a lid. They all crept further forwards. There was no letter on top of the lid. Lily dragged the lid off and dropped it on to the floor. There was tissue, but still no letter. She removed the top layer of tissue. Under it, stacked together, their ribbons neatly pinned, were five hats: pink, white, yellow, red and blue. Lily took out the hats. More tissue. Still no letter. Lily handed the hats to Clover or Columbine. She removed the next layer of tissue. Five dresses, beautifully rolled so as not to crease, in colours matching the hats. Five sets of ruffled petticoats were under the dresses, with five pairs
of gloves and lastly four pairs of open-work stockings and four pairs of cloth boots, the tongues lined in pink, white, red and blue, laced on the inside and with leather heels. Beneath them was a pair of special stockings and boots with thickened heels for callipers. Right at the bottom was another, separate, package, and inside this was a cotton shirt with a crossover collar, a tan leather waistcoat and a pair of worsted stockings tucked into a pair of long black leather boots. Slowly, Lily tipped the whole box upside down. A card fell out. She leaned down, picked it up and offered it to Rose. Rose shook her head. ‘Good luck at the Derby. With love from Aunt Barbara,' Lily read. She passed the card to Rose, who passed it on to the twins without looking at it.

Clover and Columbine dropped the card. Rather dazed, they picked up the cloth boots to measure against their feet. ‘They're the right size,' they said. They picked up the white dress and held it against Lily, and the pink against Rose. ‘The dresses fit too.' They unwrapped each hat, inspected every ribbon and finally took deep breaths and set up a clamour. ‘They're Derby dresses, Rose! She's sent them for us to wear for the race! Can we go? We must go! Please?'

‘Don't be absurd. Of course we can't go,' said Rose, blinking. ‘Aunt Barbara didn't send any money for tickets, and I don't even know where Epsom is except that it's miles away.'

‘Couldn't we drive Tinker?'

Rose shook her head. She touched the clothes. They seemed a little unreal. ‘Even if Tinker was a post-horse rather than a pony, and even if we set out now, we'd not make it in time.' She began to put the clothes back into the box. She did not know what else to do. Lily helped her, and after a while Clover and Columbine helped too. They dragged the box to the castle.

It took quite something to surprise Mrs Snipper, but she was genuinely surprised about the dresses. It was she who made the children put them on, the twins surreptitiously swapping when they were given the wrong one. ‘Should we show Pa?' asked Columbine, loving the swish of the blue.

‘No, dearie,' said Mrs Snipper at once. ‘Don't do that.' As each girl took her dress off, she hung the dress up.

In the early evening, their spirits very low, the four drifted down to the Resting Place and it was there that Arthur Rose found them. Rose, who had been lying on the flat stone, blinked as the shadow of his cob fell over her. She sat up at once.

‘Hello,' Arthur said, dismounting. ‘Don't move.' He loosed his cob to graze.

‘The One's gone,' Rose said. She knew she was blushing and wished she would not.

‘Yes,' said Arthur easily.

‘We haven't heard anything.'

‘No. That doesn't matter. It's not The One I've come for. It's you – I mean, you all,' he added hastily.

‘We're not animals and we're not ill,' said Clover or Columbine.

‘Of course not!' Arthur Rose said. ‘I've come to ask if you want to go to the Derby.'

A second's pause. ‘Of course we want to go,' said Clover or Columbine uncertainly.

‘Then we'll go together.'

‘What?'

‘Don't you want to go?'

‘Of course we want to go, only it costs money and Aunt Barbara didn't send any, only dresses and boots.'

Arthur did not seek an explanation about Aunt Barbara or the dresses and boots. ‘So we can all go together.'

‘Do you mean it?'

‘Of course I mean it!' He flashed them a bashful smile.

At once, the twins seized Arthur's hands and began to dance him around the chestnut tree. ‘The Derby! The Derby! We're going to the Derby!' they chanted. Arthur could not help laughing, though he was nervous that Rose would find him silly. He extricated himself.

‘It's very kind of you, but we can't go.' Rose rose, squinting a little in the sun.

‘Rose, Rose,' Arthur said, tucking her arm under his and walking her round the chestnut tree. ‘Remember the day The One was sound again?' She nodded. ‘Well, I promised Daisy then that I'd be at Epsom and I'm not going to break that promise.' He gave her a very direct look. ‘I can go alone,
but I think it's important that you're there too because I think she's going to be . . .'

‘Disappointed?'

‘Distraught,' Arthur said because it was time for truth. ‘I don't think she has any idea what The One's up against. She's going to need her sisters around her. For her sake, let me take you all with me.'

‘Garth's there already.'

He looked into her eyes. ‘Garth's not her sisters,' he said.

‘No,' she said.

‘Then we'll set off tomorrow on the train.'

‘But where will we stay?' Rose had to ask. ‘How will we –'

‘Leave all that to me,' Arthur said gently. ‘It will be my pleasure.' He would not allow her to ask any more. Instead, he walked her back to the flat stone, recaught his cob and mounted. ‘I'll be in the courtyard at eight o'clock.' He pressed his legs into the cob's sides.

‘No,' called Rose suddenly. He turned. ‘I mean, don't come to the courtyard. We'll meet you at the stables.'

He understood at once. She did not want their father to see them going. ‘To the stables,' he said. ‘I'll not be late.'

Columbine and Clover ran back to the castle. Rose and Lily followed. They first spoke to Mrs Snipper, then took down their dresses and tried on their boots before packing them away with Garth's and Daisy's clothes. In
the morning, though they had not asked her, Mrs Snipper pushed a hamper of food over to the yard in a wheelbarrow.

Arthur arrived half an hour early in a hired trap. Everything and everybody was quickly settled. Arthur picked up the reins. Rose leaned out, suddenly uneasy. ‘What will you tell Pa, Mrs Snips? I should have said something.'

‘Indeed You Shouldn't,' said Mrs Snipper. ‘You Look After Yourselves, That Horse, Master Garth and Miss Daisy. Leave Your Father to Me.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Sure as the Nose on My Face.' Mrs Snipper waited until the trap was through the arch before she wiped the Nose on her Face on her apron. She missed the old days. She missed Lady de Granville. She missed her son. Now she would miss the children. She leaned for a moment against the castle wall. ‘Hey Ho,' she said, before picking up Lily's birdcage and going back to the kitchen to prepare a breakfast she knew Charles would not eat.

Garth had not hidden himself back at the Newmarket stables. Skelton was not pleased to see him, but at least Garth supported him as he argued with Daisy the morning after the Two Thousand Guineas.

‘We're going home,' Daisy said.

‘Don't be silly,' Skelton rasped. ‘This is the moment we've – you've been waiting for. If the horse can be runner-up in the Guineas wearing heavy shoes, imagine what he'll do when we get to Epsom and we put the racing plates on. Everything's arranged.'

Daisy did not seem to hear.

‘Daisy!' said Garth, disconcerted. ‘You can't take him home now!'

‘We're going home.'

‘No,' said Skelton and Garth together.

Daisy pursed her lips and began to pack The One's brushes.

‘Daisy!' Garth put his hand on her arm. ‘Didn't you hear me before? You won't have to worry about whips if I ride.'

Skelton knew he and Garth should stick together, but this was too much. ‘Come off it, Master Garth. You can't even sit on the horse – on any horse. You certainly can't ride The One in the Derby.'

‘I'm going to ride him,' Garth said with some spirit, ‘and I'm going to ride him better than that toothless streak of vomit you employed. Look what he's done!' He gestured at The One's welts.

Skelton barely glanced over. ‘Blame me for those, eh? Well, tell me this: who didn't teach the horse to start? Who's treated it like a domestic pet? Who can't even get himself into the saddle? If you want to win the Derby, sonny, you've got to do a bit more than quiver.'

‘That's it,' said Daisy. ‘We're leaving right now.'

Skelton put his hand across the doorway. ‘Now, look here. I thought the idea was to win, so I did what I had to do, and at my own expense. If your idea was to come last, you should have said so.'

‘He whipped him!' said Daisy without any expression. ‘He whipped him!'

‘For the love of Christ! Did you want the horse to be laughed off the track? Grint brought him home second!' Skelton was livid. To have his plans ruined when they were so close to fruition! He wanted to kill Garth and shake all
Daisy's teeth out. ‘The horse knows how to win better than you do. What a shame. What a crying shame for him and for Hartslove.'

‘We
are
going to the Derby,' Garth said.

‘Not according to Miss Daisy, Master Garth,' Skelton sneered.

‘We are, and I
am
going to ride. I swear it.'

Skelton's laugh was harsh. ‘For the love of God. Then we really might as well go home. With you on board, the horse couldn't win a donkey derby.'

‘Daisy!' cried Garth. ‘You believe I can do it, don't you? Please, Daisy! You must tell him!'

Skelton began to throw the brushes into the basket. ‘It's over then. I agree with you, Miss Daisy. No point in taking the horse to Epsom to be ridden by coward.'

Daisy was torn in two. She pressed close to The One. She could not bear this. Garth was not a coward – or only about riding. But she could not let Garth think she agreed with Skelton. She could not. She wanted to shout at them both to leave her and The One alone. She could not do that either. Instead she found herself saying, ‘Garth can do it. It's Garth or nobody.' She twisted her horsehair bracelet. She slumped.

Skelton slammed the basket down. ‘To think I've tried to help you. To think I've paid the entry.'

‘You go home,' Daisy said to him wearily. ‘Garth and I will pay you back the fifty sovereigns after the race.'

‘Will you just! And how, pray, will you pay for all the other expenses?'

‘That's our business.'

Skelton left them. This was impossible. Garth could not ride the horse at Epsom. He paced about, dreaming up a thousand plans, from kidnapping Garth, to injuring him, to pulling him off at the start of the Derby and whizzing another jockey on in his place. All these plans were hopeless. Skelton had to accept that if Garth did not ride the horse, the horse would not run, and if the horse did not run, there was no possibility at all of Skelton owning Hartslove. And the horse could win. After his Guineas performance, there could be no doubt about that.
But only with the right jockey, riding under Skelton's instructions
. Skelton sat on a milk pail and began to refocus. He sat for a long time before his eyes widened. What a fool he was! The answer was staring straight at him. There were many sorts of courage, and like father, like son! The boy could probably manage to ride in the Derby if his veins were filled with something a bit sparkier than his own blood. Brandy, for instance. Brandy had put Charles entirely under Skelton's thumb; surely it would do the same for Garth.