A Gallant Gamble (14 page)

Now he thought about it, he never once had to call Alexander by his title nor had he been ordered to carry out any tasks. Neither had he ever been excluded. From trips into town to picnics on the beach, he had been welcomed to every meal or outing. He had laughed alongside Alexander as they had both slogged and sweated with Giles to bring the castle back in some semblance of order. They had played cards for brandy bottle stoppers and had drunk each other under the table on the old Duke’s best brandy, at every opportunity.

Alexander had even given him his own suite of rooms in the old castle!
Geoffrey hung his head in shame as he thought of the way he had always scorned it all, pretending that he preferred the stables simply because he was too proud to appear as though freeloading off a friend...a friend. The words rattled around his head.

Good grief! How could this evening have turned out so arse about face?
They had been talking about a relationship between his valet Coalport and the Duchess, before he’d shoved his own huge foot in his mouth and made it all about himself.

Charlotte was right about one thing. He needed to take the poker out of his stubborn, selfish arse and shove it right in his eye where it might make him realize what an ungrateful, rude and self centred friend he was being. Not that he wanted to sponge from Alexander, he would have to make that very clear, but working in the stables, exercising the fabulous horses and taking his fair share of the income from breeding new blood should be enough, and it was. It really was.

Alexander had been paying him for something he loved doing, something he should have been doing for his friend without thought. Alexander fed him, housed him, and entertained him. He had barely spent a penny in nearly four years, hoarding it beneath his mattress in old feed sacks and counting it twice a year like an ancient miser. A miser like Latham’s father who would rather see a young woman ostracized from her friends and thrown out on her ear than help her in any way he could.

A clock somewhere in the house struck four in the morning and several others joined in a few moments later. He looked out of the window and saw a crack of light in the sky. A bird outside the kitchen door began its dawn chorus. He rose slowly from the table and took a firm step towards the door. He needed to sleep on things and for once he didn’t have to be up early in the morning.

Their visit to the Prince’s stables wasn’t until three in the afternoon but whatever the Prince offered him, he now knew that he would refuse it. His loyalty rested within Ormond. He would repay the friendship Alexander had so unselfishly offered him and refuse the Prince’s request. Depending on what he saw he might put young Latham’s name up instead. The fellow knew how to handle a horse and would do a fine job. In winning, Latham would save his friend Annabel, a far worthier cause than Geoffrey attempting to have Charlotte for his own, something he now realized would never happen.

She was determined to remain an independent woman, had more or less said so only a few moments before she had run from the room, and who could blame her after what she had suffered in the last years before Giles had rescued her. Turning the conversation from Olivia and Coalport to his own selfish needs had only reinforced what Charlotte already believed. Men thought only of their own passions and wants, and he had proved to her that she was correct in that belief.

He cursed himself for a fool as he thought of ways to make the situation better. He would maybe ask Charlotte if he could ride Lightning in the steeplechase. Not to win, that would be left for Latham to take the glory, but it would be a step up for their stables if he could come second on his first attempt in the race on one of their own horses. And it would be a step up for him too. His first active role to gain them more trade, a way to make his own money and his way in life. A way to build respect where he deserved it, and to keep that of his friends.

He rinsed out their cups before he walked from the kitchen with a much clearer head and a far better feeling in his gut. He had a plan of action that would raise his well-being and his status. Something he should have thought about years ago instead of wallowing in his own self-pity at what he wanted but couldn’t have.

He climbed the stairs and turned the corridor but quickly stepped back into the shadows as a male form suddenly appeared coming out of the Duchess’ room. Coalport’s shirttails flapped briefly as he turned back to the still open portal and kissed the woman inside passionately before walking quickly along the corridor and disappearing up another flight of stairs.

Geoffrey heard Olivia’s door click closed. He crept along the hallway and smiled as he heard gentle, happy singing coming from her room. At least love was in the air for someone.

Chapter Seven

Tempers and Temptation

The sweet smell of fresh hay hit his nostrils first. Horseflesh followed quickly behind it and Geoffrey breathed it all in deeply, suddenly realizing how much he missed the warm, heady atmosphere of the stables at Ormond. A soft nicker caught his ear and the responding whinny was music to his ears. Clearly these were well kept animals in a clean and comfortable stable.

He glanced down at Charlotte as she stepped delicately over the cobbles and peered with great interest through the stall rails. After their argument of the previous night, they had maintained a forced cordiality at breakfast and at luncheon with the Duchess, though it appeared she noticed nothing amiss. The older lady kept losing track of the conversation and sighed as she stared off into mid air while her sausage remained poised on her fork and her eggs grew cold on her plate. In the afternoon, while Olivia pleaded exhaustion and sent her apologies to the Prince, Geoffrey and Charlotte climbed into the royal conveyance and carried on to the palace with Louise trembling in her seat as she sat as chaperone.

They had sat in stilted silence until being ushered through the guarded gates, and after stiff greetings with the Royal household they had left Louise in the care of the Prince’s staff and made their way to the palace stables. They had taken a tour of most of the animals, all of whom appeared to be so well looked after that Geoffrey thought that some of them appeared fat and bored. Charlotte had glanced at him several times and her expression tightened as each following animal appeared to be more rotund than the last. A stable lad walked past them heaving a huge bucket of mashed oats into one of the stalls. A greedy looking grey shoved his nose into the bucket and began chewing. Charlotte raised her eyebrows, conveying her own thoughts to Geoffrey as clearly as if she had spoken them while she remarked aloud to the Prince.

“I cannot think that there are finer animals in the land, Your Highness. I had thought that my own stallion, Lightning was a contender for the prize in Lord Davenport’s race, but now I can see how wrong I was to assume such a thing. Your stable masters do you credit.” Charlotte tilted her head toward the Prince as she alluded to his matchless, if a little overweight stock.

The Prince gave a superior smile at her flattery.

“And so they should, the amount I pay them. We will move on to my most prized possession in a moment. I’m sure that you won’t find him lacking in any way.” He smiled at another young man struggling with a huge bucket of feed. The man’s eyes widened in surprise before he let go of the bucket and gave his Royal master a low bow. He didn’t stop bowing until the Prince’s party had passed.

A few stalls along, an older man lifted his head from where he wiped down a magnificent animal’s legs. The beast stomped and snorted and generally tried to keep the man from doing his job. Geoffrey instinctively knew this unrivalled mount to be the fabled Vanquish. He gazed at the beautiful horse as it tossed its head and screamed impatiently at the world in general. The man tending the animal looked up towards the sound of their voices and immediately dropped his cloth into the pile hay. He gave deep bow while trying to stay out of the way of the horse’s huge feet.

It was clear that the Prince didn’t come into the stable often.

The Prince stopped by the stall door and turned to Geoffrey.

“This is Vanquish, the horse that you will be riding next week. As you can see, he is a spirited fellow, but I suspect one such as you will be able to master him quite easily.”

Geoffrey was about to answer when there was a strangled cry from the stable as Vanquish brought his rear end around sharply and shoved the man in the stall against the side wall. For a moment it was all commotion and snorting as the horse jostled the man around.

The man cried out again and went down in a pile of hay, curling as he fell as Vanquish stamped his great feet. Three more men appeared from nowhere and stared over the stall rail but none of them leapt to the man’s aid. Geoffrey glanced between them, waiting for some direction, but the men did nothing. They all dithered and flinched before the mighty stallion. Geoffrey stood for one more second before he vaulted over the gate and caught hold of the horse’s mane with one hand while he pressed his shoulder into the stallion’s neck, pushing the animal gently but firmly backwards, talking all the while in quiet but forceful tones.

“So my big fellow, you like to push your weight about, but that man is no danger to you. He was seeing to your comfort, my glorious boy, not about to hurt you. You must learn patience my fiery friend. Hush and be calm while his companions take him out of your way.”

The horse tossed his head a couple of times but Geoffrey’s firm grip stopped him trampling any further. Vanquish gave a long snort, shook his head as much as he could and moved his bottom and his great hooves away from the now petrified man. The horse gave another half-hearted attempt at pulling away, but Geoffrey held him unyieldingly and after a few more seconds Vanquish stood quietly before he dipped his nose into the bucket of oats that sat in the opposite corner.

Still wary of being behind the unpredictable beast, Geoffrey signalled for the man to move. He scuttled sideways, crawling on bent legs, one of them dragging as he made his way towards the stable door. As soon as he was within reach, the other men opened the gate and hauled him to safety.

Geoffrey patted the stallion’s neck a final time and stepped back to join them. He closed the gate behind him and turned to look down at the injured man, who groaned on the floor while his fellows examined him.

“Leg looks broke.” One of them stood before the Prince who flicked his fingers towards another man.

“Put him on a pallet and take him from here. Fool should never have taken his eyes off the beast. You have all been warned often enough.” He turned to a horrified Charlotte. “Forgive my incompetent staff and try to be calm. I’ll have a doctor look at the man later.” The Prince turned towards Geoffrey. “You are a brave fellow and far more talented than I had been told. I have never seen Vanquish back off like that. This will be the third man lost due to his vicious temper, but he is such a magnificent specimen that I cannot bear to sell him. Not many can ride him, not many can even go near him. I look forward to seeing how you fare in the race.” He made to walk out of the stables and Geoffrey followed quickly.

He frowned deeply and shook his head as they moved past the injured man.

“I am going to have to disappoint you, Your Highness. Much as it pains me to say it, Vanquish is not ready to be raced. His strengths are obvious to see, but his fiery temper makes him unreliable in the extreme. People could be killed if one such as him is let loose in a crowd.”

The Prince stopped dead and stared up in surprise at Geoffrey.

“Are you denying me your services?”

Geoffrey looked back down at the man.

“Not denying you, no. Just declining your kind offer and advising on your best course of action. The animal could be a great contender, if trained. He has the spirit necessary but needs to learn to control it. He is young yet and will learn. If I had him for three months you would see a great benefit, not least of which would help with your turnover of staff.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the stableman who groaned in misery as his friends lifted him onto the pallet.

The Prince’s eyes widened.

“Good God! You are refusing to race Vanquish for me...You are braver than I had first supposed.” He took a deep breath. “I probably don’t need to tell you but this opportunity will not come your way again. There are many others who will willingly take your place.”

Geoffrey sighed and shrugged.

“Then I wish them and anyone else in the race very good luck because, at this moment in time, that horse is not ready. It would not be fair to him or to me if we were to race him. His inexperience could prove disastrous. I am afraid that you will have to give someone braver than I a chance.”

The Prince stared up thoughtfully at Geoffrey for a long moment before he turned back to Charlotte who had been kneeling at the injured stableman’s side. She looked up as the Prince waved his hand, beckoning her towards him.

“Come my dear, do not worry your head over him, and certainly do not soil your skirts. Men like these are two a penny. I’ll send him off with five pounds and have him replaced within the hour.”

Charlotte’s beautiful blue eyes hardened to shards of ice as she stood, but the Prince seemed not to notice and held out the crook of his arm. She glanced up at Geoffrey who fell back behind them as they made their way out of the stables, into the carriage that had brought them and back towards the palace. She wasn’t at all surprised when the Prince announced that he had sudden, urgent business and that their promised tea would have to wait for a more convenient time. His footman saw him down from the carriage as he gave instructions for his driver to take them home.

Charlotte sat back in the squabs, pulling threads from her glove as Geoffrey stared out of the coach window.

“I think I have offended him greatly.” Geoffrey spoke at last.

Charlotte nodded and stopped pulling the threads.

“I thought for a moment that he was going to have you taken to the tower. I can see why you refused him though. The man is mad to attempt racing an animal like that. I doubt that many could ever ride him.”

Geoffrey leaned back and considered her words.

“And yet I feel sure that someone will fill the saddle come race day. I fear that there are not many who would refuse the Prince. I will advise Lord Latham against attempting it though. Without criticising his horsemanship, there is no way that he is up to the task. The man would be thrown within a mile.”

Charlotte frowned.

“Did he want to ride for the Prince? Why on earth should he do such a thing?”

Geoffrey thought for a moment and then decided to tell the tale.

“His conscience is pricking him. His name was mentioned when a young woman’s virtue was called into question. Even though he had done nothing wrong he liked the girl well enough, and fearing the consequences for her if he did not, he made her an offer of marriage, but being an honourable woman, she refused him on the basis that her family had lied in order to force his hand. They are friends but they do not love one another. To keep her family quiet and in the hope of covering the scandal, his father paid the woman’s family a sum of money to remove her from his son’s circles. Her family accepted the payment and immediately disowned her. They have sent her to live with some ghastly old aunt in the country. The younger Lord Latham is not a wealthy man in his own right and I believe he thought that Lord Davenport’s prize money would be enough to set up his friend in her own home. But however badly he feels for the woman and however much he would like to help, there is no point in putting his life in danger. I must warn him not to accept the Prince’s offer if he should give it.”

Charlotte tilted her head.

“I had heard a rumour about Annabel Bellingham from Louise. The family are apparently notorious for their aspirations. Poor girl. I am glad that he thinks of her still.”

Geoffrey nodded.

“But not to the extent of risking his life. He says that he has luck at the gaming tables and sends her any money that he wins. It’s an admirable thing to do but not enough. Maybe he will place a wager on the race instead of riding, though I would not advise him to gamble on the Prince’s horse. He is likely to send his rider into a ditch.”

Charlotte looked quizzically at her companion.

“A wager? How interesting. I had not considered the possibility. How does one manage such a thing?” She stared out of the window as she spoke in light tones.

Geoffrey snorted.

“By the usual means, I suppose. One offers another odds on the winning outcome. I’ll lay you a wager that the Prince’s horse loses.” He raised his eyebrows in an obvious challenge.

Charlotte grinned at him.

“But that’s no wager as I don’t think he will win either. I don’t know what I can gamble against if I agree with you.”

Geoffrey considered for a moment.

“I see what you mean, but we could make it even more interesting. You can wager that Vanquish doesn’t win, but I will go one step further. I not only think that he won’t win, but that he won’t even finish the race complete with his rider. If the horse crosses the finish line in any place with his rider still on his back, you will have won our wager.”

Charlotte tilted her head.

“That seems fair enough but I’m afraid I do not understand these things. What will I have to gamble? What do I stand to gain if the Prince’s horse crosses the line with his rider intact?”

Geoffrey considered for a moment.

“It’s just for fun and neither of us are rich, so we should make the stake something small. Can you suggest anything?”

Charlotte laughed.

“I think that I am the richest woman you know. That blasted diamond is small but worth a king’s ransom if I could only sell it, but it seems I cannot so it is only a worthless bauble. How-about that for a stake?”

Geoffrey glared at her as he shook his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You cannot possibly gamble away your inheritance. Someone will buy it someday. Be serious and think of something that will suit. Something that costs nothing but is fun to win.” He looked to be deep in thought as he considered what to give as a prize. “I know what I can promise you. If you win, I promise that I will never again moan at your breeches when you are riding about at Ormond.”