Highest Stakes (14 page)

  "Assuming he does not forbid the scheme, what is your plan?"

  "I'll send a message of appointment to
der Kapitän Ranzau
."

  "So
you
propose to ride?"

  "
I am the one
who issued the challenge. And there is no better suited mount than Hawke. In his racing career he suffered only one defeat, and
that
was due only to a strained tendon," he stated matterof-factly.

  "I beg to differ with you, Captain. If you recall, I was the rider who defeated him, and Rosie would have won regardless. She was still as fresh at the finish as when she began."

  Drake quirked a brow.

  "So you would pull rank on me, knowing I'm the best suited for the task? Though I know none who would criticize your manner with a horse, Captain, you know there is no better rider in this regiment than I, and no stouter horse than Ol' Jack. Besides, I carry a full stone and a half less than you. The weight will be very telling on the horse for the distance you propose."

  Major Winthrop's arrival from Field Marshal Stair's headquarters interrupted their discourse. Drake and Devington regarded him expectantly. As Winthrop spoke, his face was grave.

  "The field marshal asks if you both fully realize the repercussions of what you have proposed—that this trial could further ignite the animosities within our camp."

  "The possibility had come to mind. 'Tis precisely why I thought you should go as emissary to Field Marshal Stair to beg his approbation."

  "Damn-it-all, Winthrop, what was his response?" Devington demanded.

  "That is not so easily answered. His reply: Firstly, he offered 'to hang the damned lot of Hanoverians,' then catching himself, he offered up
any horse
in the entire regiment for the deed… including his own."

  "So! The field marshal himself has given us the wink and the nod. I daresay he is more than eager to finally see a Hanoverian set down," the captain said with deep satisfaction.

  "That may be so, however, he also stated that if asked by His Majesty, he will profess to complete ignorance of the affair, and lastly, he threatened that the challenger of this race will most certainly face the courts-martial… if he loses. Now I ask, gentlemen, if you are still so hell-bent on your scheme?"

  "Indeed a good question. Notwithstanding these caveats, are you still so eager to ride, Devington?"

  Perceiving his opportunity to prove himself at last, Devington answered with bravado, "You wish to win, don't you?"

  "To think I had amended my opinion that you are a cocky upstart," the captain declared wryly. "You are quite sure of yourself, then. What do you think, Winthrop?"

  "I must side with Devington. He handles a horse better than any man I know. A veritable centaur is our young corporal."

  "Then I suppose it's settled. We shall meet the Hanoverians three days hence at sunup. 'Twill be a race like no other, from Aschaffenburg to the village of Dettingen and back again. 'Tis nigh on six leagues across rough country and surely a distance to test the mettle of man and beast."

  "But who shall judge?" Winthrop asked.

  "I suppose we must have a man placed at Dettingen, but one who has no vested interest."

  "The Austrians, mayhap?" Winthrop offered.

  "Know you any trustworthy man within D'Ahremburg's camp? One who would have no stake in the outcome?"

  "I am acquainted with my Austrian counterpart. He and I have had many a discussion between the colic and the gripe. He owes me a boon and 'twould be no bad thing to have a veterinarian on hand after nearly a ten-mile run. I daresay he would show no favoritism."

  "Then, gentlemen… let the games begin."

A s
had become her habit, Charlotte rose before the sun, but rather than snatching on her riding clothes as was her custom, she lit a candle and drifted dreamily to the mahogany box on her dressing table, where she retrieved her letter.

  It was from Robert and the first word she had received since his departure from Woolwich nearly three months ago. Sick with worry, she had spent that time sleepless and without appetite, but now she knew he was safe. Robert was alive and well and thinking of her always, just as his image never completely vanished from her own mind and heart.

  With tears of joy, Charlotte tenderly opened the pages she had read and reread a dozen times since receiving them from Jeffries only the day before. As she committed his words to heart, her eyes caressed every pen stroke.

  Corporal of the Horse! Robert had already been promoted to corporal. He was well on his way to achieving his ambitions and making his mark. Soon, she reassured herself, soon he would return for her. He would appear one day in his handsome uniform and throw her up behind him and together they would ride away, just as she had dreamed they would.

  Holding the pages against her breast, she spoke her morning prayer for his continued safety and returned to her dressing table to replace his letter inside her treasure box, along with her father's silver watch and her mother's single strand of pearls.

  Now changing her shift for Charles's castoffs, which Letty had freshly repatched for her, she drew on her boots and moved stealthily through the quiet house. She exited the back, passing silently by the kitchens, and followed her well-trod path to the stables with a renewed spring in her step and whistling tunelessly as she went.

  "Good morning, Jemmy," she said cheerily to the gangly young man at work grooming a leggy gray gelding while the other boys still busied themselves shoveling and carting the muck.

  "G'mornin', miss." He paused with the curry to pull his forelock diffidently.

  "You've finished the mucking already?" Charlotte smiled teasingly, reminding him again of his impudence at their first meeting. In those early days, Jemmy had stood in awe of Robert, and as Charlotte had grown in Robert's esteem, so had she reluctantly grown in Jemmy's.

  Now, in Robert's absence, he had somehow deemed himself her de facto protector. He tended her horse, accompanied her on her rides, and stood as sentinel to guard her secret from those who would not condone her regular presence in her uncle's stables.

  "Indeed so, miss. I started early so's yer horse would be ready."

  "My horse?" She regarded Jemmy askance. "Where is Amoret?"

  "Jeffries has took her North. The Bart had a mind to breed her to Hobgoblin."

  "Indeed? The get of that cross would be twice Darley bred. I would think breeding her with Godolphin's stallion would result in a superior cross."

  "You mean the old teaser stallion what is makin' such a name for hisself?"

  "Yes. He is the sire of Lath and Cade, both exceptional runners. Breeding Amoret with him would blend the blood of two exceptional families, the Darley and the Godolphin. But if she is gone, who now am I to ride?"

  "Don't ye fret about that, miss. Jeffries told the lads you was as able to ride the cracks as any of their sorry arses. 'Scuse me, miss." He blushed. "Forgot meself."

  Ignoring his slip, she flushed with pleasure. "Jeffries said that?"

  "'Deed he did. Says since Robert left, you was the only one could ready the runners for the fall season. Says you was to have yer pick o' the lot of 'em… that is, any but Rascallion."

  "Rascallion?"

  "He be the Bart's newest crack, miss. Bought yesterday. He be bred to run and looks right enough, but his temper is rightly soured. A vicious bast… er… beast, that is. Jeffries has his hands full, if the Bart 'spects 'im to run come spring."

  "Indeed? I should like to take him out then."

  "Not
that one
, miss. Jeffries need get 'im in hand first."

  "Then who
am I
to ride, Jemmy?"

  "This one 'ere is a fine colt, miss."

  "Tortoise?"

  "Indeed. Jeffries thought you might take to the idea, given that he's full brother to Rosie and all. Robert done started 'is training afore he left. Said that if he can run like 'is sister done, the Bart might finally have a go for the King's Plate. Jeffries has high hopes for him, even if it is wi' Master Charles up. Yer cousin is a right enough chap, ain't 'e? If'n not, ye might teach this horse o' his a trick or two."

  "Charles's horse? Indeed I should not!" She laughed. "Charles has been ever kind and is my only friend within the family, though he rarely dares stand up to my uncle or even to Beatrix's bullying. Poor boy, though competent enough, he is not a gifted horseman, and sadly, that is the only accomplishment my uncle cares about. I fear he shall never live up to his father's expectations, and I think Charles knows it, too. No, I will return his kindness by teaching his horse good manners. Charles needs every advantage in a race. I'll finish up and saddle this one myself, if you want to go ahead and get your own mount ready."

  "'Tis a'ready done, miss." Jemmy broke into a gap-toothed grin. "There be no need for ye to dirty yerself anymore groomin'. 'Tis a job for the lads."

  "You know I don't mind the dirt," she protested. "I enjoy caring for the horses, though I am nonetheless grateful for your help. But if you are ready, let us not dally! I need keep my rides short these days. I dare not risk discovery. Beatrix would relish any opportunity to sour my uncle's temper against me."

  She lightly tossed the saddle pad upon the gelding's back, placed the saddle behind his withers, and buckled the girth around his belly. Jemmy, meanwhile, slid the bit into the horse's mouth and drew the headstall into position. Charlotte then took the reins from Jemmy's hand and led the gelding out into the misty stable yard, where Tortoise tossed his head with delight.

  "You're a fresh one this morning," she declared and sprung up into the saddle. "Jemmy," she called over her shoulder, "catch us if you can!" And Charlotte cantered gleefully out of the yard.

D evington awoke on the appointed day, his mind and emotions
awhirl. His opportunity to distinguish himself had finally presented itself, and he had grasped it with both hands, but his burden was multiplied by the weight of his entire regiment upon his shoulders. This race was a matter of honor.

  He dressed with deliberate care, not desiring to give the Hanoverians any fault to criticize in his appearance or bearing. He lastly strapped on his sword, and taking up his riding tack, he walked briskly to the officer's stables, where his horse had been housed for the night. The corporal was surprised to encounter Major Winthrop and Captain Drake arrived ahead of him, and moreover, devastated to see Captain Drake walking the limping gelding out of his stall, whereupon Major Winthrop pronounced him dead lame.

  "The devil he is!" Devington cursed. "Just yesterday he was rock solid."

  "'Tis far from the case today. Nigh on three-legged lame, he is. Here, take him out a few paces at the trot."

  Taking the horse's lead, Devington forced the gimping animal forward with a smart swat on the rump. After ten paces, they circled back with Jack's head jerking spasmodically upward with every step of his right fore.

  "I found naught amiss in the sinews," Winthrop remarked. "I suspect it might be his right forefoot."

  "Have you hoof testers?" Devington asked.

  "Aye. We'll test him," the vet concurred.

  Captain Drake located the device while Winthrop lifted the horse's foreleg and braced it between his own knees. He then clamped the hoof between the calipers and gently compressed. The jolt of the horse's body instantly confirmed his suspicions.