How to Marry a Rake (14 page)

Mae fell in behind her, keeping her in sight, but making sure that plenty of traffic separated them. This grew more difficult as they left Newmarket proper and began the climb south and east out of the town. Mae kept her distance, but in a matter of minutes they were the only two on the road.

Miss Hague must have known she was being followed, but still she continued on, through the grassland and occasional tree belts until she reached a pretty little farm, nestled like a jewel in a valley of green chalk land.

Watching, Mae pulled her mount to a stop. The woman turned on to the track leading towards a small farmhouse and beyond. She continued directly past, heading for a clapboard barn at the edge of the valley. Pausing at the mouth of the rutted drive, Mae watched Miss Hague pull her carriage to a stop. She tied her single horse to a post and entered the barn without a backward glance.

Mae hesitated. Stephen’s warnings rang in her head. What could the chances be—that Pratchett might be hidden in that barn? Slim at best. The opportunities for danger suddenly felt more likely. She bit her lip. In the past she’d done a great many foolish things in pursuit of Stephen Manning. This one had the potential to put all the rest to shame.

She thought of all the voices, urging her to act or to not act, or to act in a certain way: Josette, her father, Lord Banks and even the lovely Mr Grange. She thought of Stephen, simultaneously inviting her in and shutting her out. Three days ago her life had been simpler, her goals clear.

She heard it then. Echoing from across the valley, emanating from the barn, the high call of a horse. A greeting.

Her hands gripped tight on the reins. Perhaps things would look simpler again, once Pratchett was found and all the distractions removed.

Urging her mount forwards, she headed for the barn.

Chapter Twelve

S
tephen left Barty Halford as soon as he was decently able—which turned out to be about fifteen minutes too late. Fifteen minutes. The damned chit could be anywhere.

Nevertheless, he stormed along High Street in high dudgeon—because he knew where she’d gone to, didn’t he? Right where he’d forbidden her to go.

Naturally.

He held his anger and fear for her in check while he made enquiries. Tamped it firmly down while he searched out Charlotte Hague’s house and used a combination of bullying and bribery to intimidate her discreet servants.

But now he had a destination. And a mount under him. And plenty of time to indulge in visions of punishment as he made his way out of Newmarket and into the surrounding countryside.

And indulge, he did. He could not stop himself. The girl needed tying up. Or a padded cell. Mae had gone
too far this time. He knew that once she made a commitment, it was heart and soul. He knew that she was likely to get caught up in the excitement and beauty of seeing her plans unfold. But it was one thing to blithely spout nonsense about ruination being preferable to an unwanted marriage. It was another thing altogether to court such a disaster with unruly, childish behaviour.

Mae didn’t understand what a misery a life shut out from all good society could be. Stephen did.

He knew all about the horrible loneliness. How, when the world forgot you, you began to lose yourself. He’d seen his mother fade away in isolation and exile, through no fault of her own. He’d be damned if he’d see the same thing happen to Mae.

Swallowing a curse, he urged his mount to a faster gait.

What had Mae expected to find as she followed Charlotte Hague? A clandestine meeting? A lover’s tryst, perhaps. Standing in the doorway, she blinked her eyes, fighting both disappointment and the gloom of the interior. This was no love nest disguised as a barn. Miss Hague stood within, alone at a stall’s opened half-door, stroking the neck of a dappled grey.

Miss Hague chuckled as the horse imperiously butted her shoulder. But when she spoke, her words weren’t directed at the grey. ‘Well—come in, then. I give you full marks for audacity. Now that you’ve come all this way, you might as well have your say.’

Mae took a tentative step inside. ‘Miss Hague?’

The woman turned and Mae paused. Charlotte Hague was an utterly incongruous sight in such a homey,
everyday scene. The woman was lovely, beautiful in a striking, dramatic way. Her dark beauty belonged in another time and place, in a Venetian gondola perhaps, or reclining on a Roman couch. Her lips were red, her skin an exotic olive—but her eyes—Mae’s breath caught when their gazes met. Charlotte Hague’s eyes were dark and heavy, full of too much knowledge and more than enough experience and, roaming over Mae, her expression took on an inordinately weary cast.

‘Well, aren’t you a fresh young thing?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I don’t know what nonsense Ryeton has told you, but if it’s the house you’re after, or anything in it, then you can turn right back around. It’s all in the contracts—and it’s all mine.’ Her beautiful bow of a mouth twisted a little. ‘But his lordship? You’re welcome to him.’

Mae shook her head. ‘No, you’ve mistaken me. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind.’

‘I won’t promise answers—or answers you want to hear, in any case. And if you’ve come for a fight, then you are in for a disappointment. I don’t fight over men, darling. There are more than enough to go around.’ She waved a negligent hand. ‘And if you’ve questions regarding Ryeton, then I’ve only one answer—pick another mark.’

Mae started again to correct her, but stopped. ‘Why?’ she asked simply.

‘Ryeton spends his money on his horses, not his women. It was not so bad at first, but lately?’ She shook her head. ‘Ah, perhaps he is too old to maintain more than one obsession. Or it might be that we are just too familiar—we have been together for a good spell.’ She
raised a shoulder and pursed her lips. ‘Either way, I’ve no talent for playing second fiddle.’

She spared Mae another glance. ‘Nor should you start out that way.’

‘I don’t intend to,’ Mae answered truthfully.

Miss Hague turned back to her horse. ‘In any case, Lady Ryeton is in Newmarket—which would scratch any chance of you hooking him now.’

Mae took a few steps farther into the barn. ‘Is that why you are leaving?’

The other woman laughed. ‘Word is out already, is it?’ Her sigh was almost swallowed in all the soft, rustling sounds of the barn. ‘It’s partly the reason. Why not? She’s invaded my territory, so I shall breach hers. I’m in need of a new protector—and all the nobs here will be gone in a matter of days.’ She shot a glance over her shoulder. ‘I’d advise anyone starting out to hie to London and do the same.’

Approaching the stall, Mae got close enough to see that the grey mare had gone heavy with age and indulgence. There was nothing wrong with her nose, however. She had only just reached the pair of them when the mare swung away from Miss Hague and took a step in her direction. She pushed her nose past Mae’s outstretched hand and straight to her pocket.

Miss Hague chuckled. ‘You must have something good in there.’

‘Sugar,’ Mae answered with a smile. ‘Would you mind?’

‘Of course not.’ The other woman’s voice took on a note of almost parental lenience. She reached out and ran a fond hand down the arch of the mare’s neck.
‘This is Minna. She’s my oldest and dearest friend. I can’t even begin to tell you all the adventures we’ve had together.’ She sighed. ‘I sold her once, when things had got so bad …’ The words trailed away.

Silence hung in the air a moment, along with all the strong and oddly comforting smells of a working barn. Miss Hague gave herself a little shake and continued on as if nothing had happened. ‘I bought her back as soon as I was able—at twice the price. And I’ve never parted from her since. It’s a nice set-up we have here in Newmarket. She has plenty of room to roam, a nice man to spoil her, and I can drive out and visit her any time I like.’

Mae shivered at the tickle of the mare’s velvety nose against the palm of her hand. She heard Miss Hague’s unspoken words—and saw the sorrow they lent to her caressing hand. ‘It sounds like you’ll miss her while you are gone.’

The other woman shot her an amused glance. ‘Indeed I will. I’ve been fitting in extra visits as I prepare to leave. She’s not young any more and I fear …’ Unable to finish the thought, she gestured towards the back of the stall. ‘But Minna won’t be completely bereft. She’ll have Argus to keep her company.’

‘Argus?’ Mae stepped to the side until she caught a glimpse of black towards the back of the stall. A small goat lay curled in a bed of straw, regarding her with unblinking eyes.

‘Argus is Minna’s special friend,’ said Miss Hague with a smile. ‘He was already living here on the farm when I first boarded Minna here. They took one look at each other and have barely been more than a few
feet apart since.’ She chuckled. ‘At this point, I think it would be far more difficult for my darling to be separated from Argus than from me.’

Immediately, Mae thought of Pratchett and his cat companion. ‘That is an odd coincidence. I’d only just heard about how some animals strike up such relationships.’

‘Yes, they are all talking about Pratchett, are they not? And he does have a friend—a solid black cat.’ She shivered. ‘They do say as black cats are odd, and that one is no exception. I’ve seen that thoroughbred in a right towering temper tantrum, and that cat will just walk up, cool as you please, and rub up against his leg—and just like that, the horse goes flat and easy as a becalmed ocean.’ She gave a rueful laugh and her grey responded with a nod. ‘Now Minna would be the opposite. She’s as easy going as the day is long, until Argus is out of her sight, and then she starts to get agitated.’

Mae took a step over to the next stall, where a bay with four white stockings stood with his hindquarters towards them. ‘But where does that leave this lovely boy? If those two are so close, I wonder if he feels left out?’ She turned to Miss Hague with a smile. ‘He looks to be in wonderful shape. Is he yours as well?’

‘No. He’s one of Lord Ryeton’s. I don’t think he’s been here long enough to feel left out.’

Mae’s heart began to pound. Ryeton’s? The earl kept a horse tucked away out here?

But Miss Hague had continued, and even through her excitement, Mae caught the bitter note in her voice. ‘If money is such an issue, it makes no sense to me that Ryeton would spare the expense to board this one
all the way out here instead of keeping him in his own stables. Heaven knows that his horses are more pampered than his women.’

Intense and hopeful excitement made Mae incautious. ‘Miss Hague, could this be Pratchett?’

‘Pratchett?’ The other woman’s surprise was genuine, as was the slightly mocking trill of laughter that followed it. ‘Good heavens, no. My dear, you must learn more about horses and racing if you are hunting for a protector among the racing set. Pratchett is a full bay, for one thing, and he
looks
like a champion, with a proud and regal bearing. He’s as temperamental as any stage prima donna as well, with a fiery heart and a tendency to nip out at anyone who would dare come this close to his stall.’

She waved a dismissive hand. ‘This one is fine enough, but he doesn’t have the spirit of a true champion—he cannot even be bothered enough to be curious about us!’ She cocked her head at Mae in curiosity. ‘And why in heaven’s name would Ryeton kidnap his own horse? It doesn’t make sense.’

Mae flushed, but more from disappointment than embarrassment. Oh, would it not have been the grandest thing to have found Pratchett so unexpectedly? How she would have loved to march back into Newmarket and toss that little nugget of information—along with his imperious orders—right in Stephen’s lap!

Still, she would find out what she could. ‘As you say, none of it makes sense to me. Do you have an idea why anyone would kidnap that horse? What gain could be got from it?’

Miss Hague shrugged. ‘A rival, perhaps? Pratchett
wins everything he enters. I wish I did know who had done the thing, for I would like to extend my personal thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ryeton so unhappy.’

Mae arched a brow at her. ‘If making Lord Ryeton unhappy would count as a motive towards this crime, then you would seem a likely suspect.’

The woman appeared to be more irritated by the observation than alarmed. ‘And you would seem a little fool to have confronted me about it, here where we are all alone. Were I that desperate, what would keep me from doing you a harm as well?’

Suddenly weariness descended over Charlotte Hague once again. ‘Good gracious, I’d forgotten what it’s like, to be so young and earnest. You exhaust me.’ She rubbed her hand across her forehead. Mae could see the conscious effort she made to smooth her expression. ‘It’s only bitterness that makes me wish to see Ryeton as miserable as he’s made me over the last few months. But I’ve neither time nor energy to waste on such pettiness. I have my own future to worry over.’ Her tone grew sardonic. ‘And fewer resources with which to approach it.’

She looked away from Mae. ‘Some day you’ll understand. The time will come when you are not so firm as you’ve always been, when you begin to need the tricks of light and the magic in your dressmaker’s fingers. If you are anything at all like me, then that will be the first time you actually fear what the future might bring.’

Mae had never had to worry about where her next meal was coming from, had always known she would have a place to lay her head, but still, she did know
something about the uncertainty and anxiety that went with fearing for your place in the world. ‘I know a little of what you mean,’ she said softly.

Both women startled at the crunch of gravel outside. Minna lifted her head and nickered a welcome and the other woman eyed Mae in knowing amusement. ‘Well, this is unexpected.’

Mae flushed and turned towards the open door. Could Stephen have found her already?

Charlotte Hague dropped a kiss on her mare’s nose. ‘I thought that today was going to be all about endings and goodbyes. I find that it makes things easier to think that it might also be about a beginning.’ She trailed one last caress across the grey’s nose. ‘Goodbye, my darling.’ The smile she cast at Mae was crooked and bittersweet. ‘And good luck to you.’

She strolled towards the barn door, but the light dimmed as a male figure suddenly blocked it. Mae’s heart began to pound. It
was
Stephen.

Anger shimmered off him in waves. He glared at Mae with a heavy-lidded gaze that stirred her insides to life. He ignored Miss Hague completely, instead raking Mae with a burning, head-to-toe glance. She straightened her spine and braced herself for battle.

Miss Hague gave him a solemn nod, as if they’d met along the streets of London instead of in the wilds of Suffolk. Without looking directly at her, he returned the gesture. She slid past him into the lengthening shadows.

Stephen stood in the wide barn door and smouldered. The gold sunset of Mae’s hair glowed against
the dark night of her navy habit. The sight fanned the flames inside him even higher. He feared that if he set foot inside, he’d set the place alight. ‘You just cannot do it, can you?’