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Authors: Fenella J Miller

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A roar from
behind them made the girls spin round. Lady Grierson took her youngest
daughters’ hands. ‘Quickly girls - that was the ponies on their way. We must join
Edward and Papa or we shall miss the finish.’

They hurried
across the track that curved round the edge of the vast green and threaded
their way through the crowd to the spot Lord Grierson had chosen to watch his
son race. Marianne was dismayed to see the Hawksmiths were stationed right
beside him and the earl was staring at her in a most unsettling manner.

 
 
 
 
 

Chapter
Nine

 

‘Ah, there you
are my dears, I was becoming quite anxious,’ Lord Grierson called as they approached.
‘You have missed the start but the ponies will be finishing here as well - they
only make one circuit.’

The crowd
obligingly moved apart to allow the three women to stand at the rope barrier.
Marianne could see the horses about to take part in the main event milling
about in a rudimentary collecting ring a little distance away. Emily tapped her
arm and whispered to her.

‘Arabella’s
parents are standing next to Mama. It is time I introduced you to them, for
Arabella is my dearest friend and you are now my sister.’

Marianne nodded
and automatically stiffened her spine, adjusted her gown and checked her bonnet
was secure. Emily waited until her parents had completed their greetings before
leading her forward.

‘Lady Hawksmith,
I would like to introduce to my new sister, Miss Marianne Devenish, she is to
make a home with us in future.’ Marianne curtsied and Lady Hawksmith nodded
frostily. ‘Lord Hawksmith, may I introduce Miss Devenish to you?’

Emily smiled and
Marianne curtsied, uncomfortably aware Arabella’s father was staring at her
again.

‘Good heavens,
Miss Devenish, do you know you are the image of a young lady I used to know
many years ago.’ He frowned as he tried to recollect the name. ‘I have it -
Amelia Stanton - that was it. I forget who she married but I’m certain it
wasn’t a Devenish.’ He smiled. ‘It will come back to me. I have no doubt your
family is linked somehow to Miss Stanton’s because the resemblance is too close
for there not to be a connection.’

The crowd roared
as the ponies came into sight and Marianne was able to slip backwards through
the spectators unnoticed. She had to escape, to get away before he revealed her
as Martha Frasier. Lord Hawksmith could remember at any minute to whom her
mother had been married.

Where could she
go? Frantically she looked round for refuge and caught sight of the church
tower behind The Lion inn and recalled her guardian had said that he walked to
the service on Sunday. Yes! She would go to Bentley Hall; it could not be more
than a short distance from The Lion.

She heard the
cheers as the winning pony galloped past the finishing line just as she hurried
into the bustling forecourt. She guessed there would be a wicket gate somewhere
for her to use which would lead into the church yard. She was obliged to hide
as a group of young officers staggered from the building brimming ale pots in
their hands. She had no wish to be accosted as without a maid or male companion
she might be mistaken for something she was not. Gentlemen in their cups could
behave in a way they might bitterly regret when sober.

She hovered
behind a convenient diligence praying the problem would walk itself away. To
her relief the officers, laughing and shouting, set off in the direction of the
starting line. The main race came next. Charles and Cousin Theo would be
competing but she had no desire to watch, all she wanted was to hide away from
Lord Hawksmith. She wished John had not gone to London to see the lawyers, he
would know what to do. If Sir James turned up her new family would reject her
out of hand. No daughter of theirs would have such a vile acquaintance.

Her passage was
clear so she continued towards the rear of the inn hoping her conjecture was
correct and there would be a way through. In the distance she heard the loud
shouting of the race goers as the main event began but in her agitation it
meant nothing to her.

She rounded the
large building avoiding ostlers and grooms who viewed the intrusion of a
lovely, fashionably attired and unchaperoned young lady as a bonus.

‘Excuse me, but
are you lost, miss?’ A groom, bent with age, asked.

‘I sincerely
hope not. I am expecting to find a way through to the church. I pray there is
one?’

‘Yes, if you
come with me, miss, I’ll show you.’ Grateful for his escort she followed him
and there in the far corner was the gate she sought.

‘Thank you. I
shall be able to continue safely from here on my own.’ She fumbled in her
reticule finally drawing out a silver sixpence with which to recompense him. On
light feet she ran to the gate and slipped out from the noise into the peaceful
churchyard.

The imposing
roof of Bentley Hall could be seen from where she was, all she had to do was
follow the grassy path between the tombstones until she found the exit that
would lead into the grounds of the Hall.

The sounds of
the race were becoming fainter but a sudden escalation of shouting, followed by
what might have been women screaming, made her pause. Had there been an
accident? Should she go back? No, she had problems enough of her own. She
resumed her journey and soon she was sipping a welcome glass of fresh lemonade
in the same room she had used on her arrival in Great Bentley just over a week
ago.

*

Theo could not
take his eyes from Marianne. What was wrong with him? He mustn’t allow a pair
of beautiful blue eyes to divert him from his purpose. Lucifer bucked and he
swore. By the time he had regained control and was free to glance across to the
Grierson party his ward had vanished. He stood in his stirrups and scanned the
crowd and was rewarded with a glimpse of an eau-de-nil bonnet weaving in and
out of the spectators heading in the direction of the inn.

What the devil
was she doing? And with no maid to accompany her - was she so naive she knew no
better than to go into an inn yard on her own? He glared at Lord and Lady
Grierson. Could they not see she had gone? What sort of foster parents were
they? Not good enough obviously. He would have to go after her himself. He had
no choice.

His decision
made, he sat back and prepared to extricate his mount from the melee of horses
waiting behind the starting line for the flag to be dropped. Before he could
retreat the starter’s hand fell and the thirty or so horses leapt forward.
Lucifer, trapped, was forced to go with them. He was committed, he had to race
at least until pulling up would not cause carnage.

He leant down
low over his horse’s neck and dug his heels in hard. The stallion responded by
lengthening his stride, eager to reach the front. Theo in the split-second he
had had to think decided to take the lead by forcing his way through the pack
and when he was clear he would turn Lucifer away safely and go and find
Marianne.

He had completed
a full circuit before he had his chance. He could hear the pounding of hooves
on the turf, the heavy breathing of the horses, the curses of the riders, but
he ignored it all. He was boxed in by two farmers astride massive hunters. To
get past he would have to take the outside line but there was no room to
squeeze through.

The hunters were
neck and neck, neither riders nor mounts prepared to give an inch. Sitting back
he pulled hard on the reins. Lucifer shortened his stride from a flat gallop to
an extended canter allowing the horses blocking his path to pull ahead.

Before another
rider could steal his place Theo expertly drove his horse to the right and
kicked him on. With his chestnut nose outstretched Lucifer shot past the
farmers and now there were only three left in front. The animal needed no
further encouragement.

Theo galloped
past the first, a grey ridden by an officer in full regimentals. Only then did
he realize who was leading. Charles was crouched low in the saddle, the mare
galloping well within herself, not straining, showing no sign of breaking down
as she had the previous year. But the horse a mere half-stride behind was
beginning to blow, its rider using his hands and heels vigorously whilst
shouting encouragement.

It should be a
simple thing to pass the two then he could leave Charles to take the
honours,
there was nothing close enough to catch him. The
gap between the main group and the leading three was widening with every
second.

‘Go Lucifer, go,
you can do it!’ He shouted into his mount’s flattened ears and the horse surged
forward. They drew level with Charles and were past. All he needed was a lead
of a length or two and he could pull aside and allow them to gallop safely by.

Charles must
have thought the race was being taken from him and desperately urged Bess to go
faster. The rider behind him did the same but his horse had nothing left to
give and staggered sideways crashing into the mare’s hindquarters, bringing
them both down with a horrible crash.

Theo felt the
impact of the fall and instantly threw himself back, hauling Lucifer’s head up,
bringing him brutally back to a canter. He wrenched his mount round, dreading
what he would see on the ground behind him.

Matters were far
worse than he had feared. The horse that had caused the tragedy was down, its
sides heaving as it drew its last breath. There was no sign of the young rider.
Bess was up but her nearside leg was raised, its fetlock dangling.

Theo pulled
Lucifer into the side as the remaining horses thundered past; no one else
stopped to investigate, all were intent on snatching victory. Accidents happened
– life went on for the rest.

It was strangely
quiet after the horses had gone. Even the noise from the crowd appeared to
fade. He dismounted and flipping Lucifer’s reins over he pushed his arm through
them.

He walked up to
Bess, her head hanging, her eyes rolling in pain. ‘Sorry old girl. I am so
sorry. But it’s all up with you.’ He had no need to take her reins; she was
going nowhere. Then he saw the still form of Charles, his leg twisted at an
unnatural angle and blood oozing from a deep wound on his head. His jaw
hardened and he clenched his teeth.

It did not look
good. Had he unwittingly been the cause of it? If he had not gone past would
the accident still have occurred? He pushed the thought away, now was not the
time to dwell on such things.

He could hear
women sobbing in the distance and the sound of booted feet thudding on the
grass. The rescue party were arriving but too late for the two horses and
possibly for both riders. He prayed he was wrong and at least Charles would
survive his injuries. The other man crushed beneath the weight of his horse he
was a corpse for sure. He didn’t need to investigate to know that.

Lord Grierson
arrived, panting but calm. Taking in the scenario with one glance he assumed
command, ignoring Theo who was doing his best to stand helplessly as would be
expected of him. Tom and Billy were at Lord Grierson’s back. ‘Tom, go back and
fetch a pistol, you know what you have to do, lad?’

The young man
nodded his expression grim then turned and ran back towards the waiting crowd.
The race had not been completed after all. Stewards had run out onto the grass
waving flags and even the most determined of the riders had been forced to rein
back.

News of the
double tragedy was rapidly passing round the crowd and gradually it fell
silent, hats were doffed and slowly the spectators began to trickle away. There
would be no further races that Saturday.

‘Lady Grierson
must not see this, my lord.’

‘Lady Grierson
and my daughters will remain where they are for the moment.’

Theo glanced
over his shoulder and saw they stood obediently, faces
pinched,
no doubt praying Charles was not the rider who had been killed.

Lord and Lady
Hawksmith were marching a sobbing Arabella away to their carriage. She was
protesting loudly, wanting to wait to see how Charles fared but they were
having none of it.

Theo tossed his
reins to a local lad and joined the men trying to roll the carcass of the big
bay from the remains of the young man. This was a hard, unpleasant task but it
had to be done.

‘Who is the
lad?’ Lord Grierson barked at a young man mopping his brow, his face sickly
white.

‘It’s William
Whittle from over Thorrington way, my lord. His parents will be that upset. He
is the only son and the estate’s entailed.’

‘Are they here?’

‘No, my lord, they’ve
taken the little girls and gone to visit relatives in Colchester. William would
not have competed if they’d been present.’

Lord Grierson
glanced across at Theo. ‘Sir Theodore, will you go to Colchester and fetch

back the Whittle family? Break the
news of their son’s death? This young man will show you the way.’

Theo hid his
dismay. He could hardly refuse but he was desperate to find Marianne and make
certain she was unharmed. He also wished to discover what had so overset her
she had felt the need to run away.

‘I will go, Lord
Grierson, with a sad heart. I am always happy to offer my assistance in a man’s
hour of need. To lose a son is a dreadful thing in any circumstances but to
lose an only son is so much worse, is it not?’ He stared over at Charles being
attended to by the grave faced doctor.

William Whittle
was finally released and the sight of his mangled, bloody limbs was so shocking
several men turned away. Lord Grierson was made of sterner stuff. He had the
foresight to quickly remove his jacket and cover the body. It wouldn’t do for
ladies to see it.

Theo didn’t want
to depart until he knew how Charles did. He had also intended to draw Lord
Grierson’s attention to the fact Marianne was missing but thought better of it.
Tom had returned accompanied by Billy, a pistol in his hand. He looked green
and not up to the heartrending task he had been allotted. Theo hesitated for a
second, knowing his action might reveal more that he wished about his
character.

‘Here, Tom, give
it to me. I’ll do it.’ He took the gun and holding it hidden behind him walked
up to Bess who was staring, glassy eyed at the ground. Theo patted her neck,
whispering soothing words in her ears and before she realized his intention,
the barrel was between her eyes. The bullet killed her instantly. He knew what
he was about. The mare’s legs buckled and she dropped like a stone. He handed
the empty pistol back to Tom and spoke quietly to him. ‘Miss Devenish is
missing, Tom. You are to go and find her. Billy must drive the carriage in your
place.’

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