Lady Jane's Ribbons (29 page)

Only once during the next stage did they even catch a glimpse of their
opponents
, and that was when the road ahead rose over Banstead Downs. Jane could see the others quite clearly, and it seemed that somehow or other Henry had taken the lead, dashing over the summit with the Nonpareil at his heels.

Will’s injured hand was giving him a great deal of pain, but he struggled valiantly to continue, and he was gradually coming to terms with the brakes, which had after all probably saved their lives in the dell. But five minutes was a lot to make up, and Jane knew that with each mile to Reigate, only seconds were being clawed back.

After the incident with the sheep, and Will’s certainty that it hadn’t been accidental, she was still very nervous, scanning the road ahead and the fields for a sign of further trouble. She was trembling inside, and clinging to the edge of her seat more tightly than necessary. Oh, how she wished Lewis was with her and that he’d never gone back to Maywood the night before.

The air on the downs was sweet and warm, and she could hear the
high-pitched
songs of larks far above. She saw Tumble Beacon again, and
remembered
wryly the defiant thoughts she’d had when last she’d seen it. She’d been so convinced that the Swan was going to take the others on as an equal, challenging them on their own level; the truth was proving very different.

They reached the top of Reigate Hill with no further sight of the other two stagecoaches. The spectators following were now stretched in a long,
straggling
line, with a considerable gap between Lord Sefton and his friends and the first of the carriages. As the Swan began the dangerous descent, Will applied the brakes with something approaching confidence. The countryside of the weald stretched ahead, hazy with sunshine, allowing only a vague impression of the distant South Downs, beyond which lay Brighton, their goal.

The Swan dashed through the town of Reigate, where people lined the pavements to cheer the tardy coach on its way, the women again calling encouragement as they saw Jane on the box. At the White Hart, where the Iron Duke and the Nonpareil had changed teams minutes before, the lapse of time was sufficient for the tired teams to have been led away out of sight. Will shouted an inquiry as he drove past, and an ostler called back that the others were still nearly five minutes ahead, with the Iron Duke still
somehow
in the lead. Jane’s hands clenched and unclenched with frustration. In spite of their efforts, they weren’t making any impression on that gap!

On the far side of the town, more grooms from Maywood were waiting with the fresh horses, and to Jane’s great joy she saw that Lewis was with them. He was mounted on a nervous, capering black horse, his head uncovered so that his golden hair shone in the bright sunlight. He wore a dark green riding coat and beige breeches, and he looked concernedly at Jane as he maneuvered his horse close as Will drew the coach to a weary standstill. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes. Just.’

He reached over to put his hand on hers. ‘What’s been going on? Why isn’t Arthur driving? And why on earth are you so far behind?’

She explained a little breathlessly, glad of the reassurance his hand gave her.

His gray eyes darkened as her story unfolded. ‘Chapman should be strung up!’ he breathed. ‘But you still haven’t explained why you’re so far behind. The business with the sheep would explain two minutes away, but not five.’

‘Will’s hurt his hand rather badly. He’s in a lot of pain, Lewis.’

He looked quickly at the unhappy coachman. ‘Is this true, Will?’

‘Yes, my lord. I only wish it wasn’t. I wasn’t doing that well before it happened, but now….’ His voice trailed miserably away and he shook his
head. ‘I’m just not up to it, my lord. Even with both my hands good I haven’t got what it takes for something like this.’

Jane looked equally as miserable. ‘Oh, Lewis, we’re going to fail utterly, and it just isn’t fair!’ She felt foolishly close to tears.

His hand tightened over hers. ‘I think you should wait here for Blanche to arrive and go the rest of the way with her. In safety.’

‘No! No, Lewis, I won’t hear of it! I’m going to stay with the Swan!’

He studied her insistent, rather dusty face for a moment and then smiled. ‘Yes, I rather see that you are,’ he said softly, ‘which means that I must too.’ He dismounted then, glancing at the grooms, who had unharnessed the old team and were leading them away while the fresh horses were brought forward.

Lord Sefton’s cabriolet was fast approaching along the road now, together with the Duke of Dursley and the rest of the little coterie of light vehicles, but of the carriages of the other followers there was as yet no sign. Lewis hurried over to the yellow curricle. ‘Good day to you, my lord.’

The marshal tipped his top hat back and gave a wry smile. ‘After the Swan’s abysmal performance so far, I’ll refrain from wishing you a good day in return, Ardenley.’

‘It isn’t the Swan’s fault, not by a long chalk. There’s been more than a little interference from Chapman.’

‘I take it you’re referring to the fire?’

‘And the nobbling of Arthur Huggett, to say nothing of sheep blocking the way before Sutton.’

Lord Sefton stared at him. ‘Sheep? So
that’s
why I nearly caught the Swan up! I couldn’t understand why it was suddenly so close. Chapman’s a tricky customer, and no mistake. If I actually catch him at it, I’ll have his
conniving
guts for garters.’

‘I’m tricky enough myself when need be,’ replied Lewis. ‘Tell me, is there any reason why
I
shouldn’t drive the Swan from now on?’

‘You?’ Lord Sefton grinned. ‘No reason at all, dear boy.’

‘And is there anything in the rules which lays down the exact route which must be followed?’

‘Not as far as I know. Why?’

‘If foul means are Chapman’s order of the day, then I can match him.’

The marshal cleared his throat uncomfortably, leaning closer to prevent the nearby gentlemen from hearing. ‘Ardenley, I must warn you that if I see anything untoward, I shall be forced to disqualify you.’

‘Oh, there won’t be anything like that. I intend to content myself with
legal
trickery, I promise you.’

‘I’m relieved to hear it.’ Lord Sefton glanced at Jane, who was watching them anxiously from a distance. ‘Is your interest due to the lovely lady?’

‘Why should it be?’

‘Because I can’t imagine that you really meant to settle for the fool’s gold of Brantingham when you could have had the real thing in Felbridge’s
delightful sister.’

‘I didn’t settle for anything, sir; it was settled for me.’ Lewis turned to look back at the coach, where his grooms had almost completed the change of team.

The noise of the following stream of carriages was beginning to fill the air now and then the first one appeared around the bend in the road behind them. Lord Sefton nodded at Lewis. ‘Hadn’t you better get on with it, then? Time, the Iron Duke, and the Nonpareil wait for no man.’

Lewis hurried back to the Swan, where Will had climbed down now and was pacing nervously up and down, trying to flex his aching hand. He turned sharply as he heard Lewis approaching. ‘My lord?’

‘I’ll take over, Will; you’re in no condition to carry on.’

Will couldn’t hide his relief. ‘I’m sorry to have failed you all, my lord.’

‘You didn’t fail, man, you did damned well! Driving a coach and four with an injured hand is no easy matter.’

Will smiled with pleasure at the praise. ‘Thank you for that, my lord.’

‘Credit where credit’s due,’ answered Lewis, climbing lightly up onto the box next to Jane. Then he leaned down to Will again, nodding toward Blanche’s landau which had at that moment drawn up behind Lord Sefton and right alongside the Duke of Dursley’s purple cabriolet. ‘Go to Miss Lyndon, Will; I’m sure she’ll gladly convey you the rest of the way.’

‘I’ll do that, sir. Good luck.’

‘We’ll need it,’ replied Lewis, gathering the ribbons and watching the Duke of Dursley, who was doing his utmost to attract Blanche’s attention and was being ignored for his pains. Then he looked at Jane for a moment. ‘Well, madam, it seems you must trust yourself to my care for the rest of the race.’

‘I do so gladly.’

‘Gladly? I’m overcome by such enthusiasm.’

‘I mean it, Lewis.’

He met her gaze for a moment. ‘Yes, I can see that you do,’ he said softly. ‘I wonder what Charles would say? However, first things first, so let’s see what we can do about this race, eh?’ He nodded at the waiting grooms, who released the horses. At a barely perceptible command, the team sprang eagerly forward, moving the Swan swiftly on its way once more.

Will dashed across to the landau, where a curious Blanche had opened the door to see what was happening. Still ignoring the rather cross Duke of Dursley, she called out to Will, ‘What’s wrong? Why has the Swan lost so much time?’

‘I’ll explain, Miss Lyndon, if you’ll please be so kind as to take me with you.’

She nodded, sitting quickly back for him to climb in.

Aunt Derwent looked a little sternly at him. ‘Sir, Betsy has already regaled us with dreadful tales of fires and my niece’s miraculous escape from death. I do trust that you aren’t going to give me further reason for recourse to the
sal volatile
.’

Will looked uncertainly at her as the landau lurched forward once more. ‘I don’t know what you mean, my lady, but what I’ve got to tell isn’t good.’ He told them what had been happening and Aunt Derwent tapped her
parasol
crossly on the floor of the swaying coach. ‘That wretched, wretched Mr Chapman! Just wait until I catch up with him in Brighton – he’ll wish he’d never been born!’

On the Swan, Jane felt as if she was flying now, for somehow Lewis managed to coax that little bit extra from the horses. The flower-dotted meadows of the weald passed swiftly by, the hedgerows bending to the rush of air as the coach thundered along the dusty highway. She felt a surge of excitement now, a thrill which she hadn’t experienced before, for she knew that Lewis was a different class of driver entirely from the unfortunate Will. She remembered that even Henry had grudgingly admitted that he
considered
Lewis to be the finest whip in the land, and now, as the Swan dashed through the countryside toward Crawley and the next change, she knew exactly what her brother had meant. She could almost feel the seconds being snatched back, and knew that no other man could have better negotiated the bends, ascents, and descents or covered the flat ground at such speed. Whereas Will had visibly driven the coach, Lewis seemed hardly to move. His commands were subtle, sometimes barely discernible, but he achieved far more, making the horses seem fresh when they must have begun to tire. Glancing behind, she saw that Lord Sefton and his friends were having
difficulty
keeping up, and there was no sign at all of the following throng of carriages. She wanted to laugh aloud with anticipation, and her eyes shone.

Lewis glanced at her and grinned. ‘I see you begin to appreciate the lure of coaching,’ he said, his voice raised above the rush of wind and the noise of the coach.

‘Yes, I do! Oh, Lewis, can we possibly catch them up?’

‘Going the way I intend to go, the answer has to be yes,’ he answered rather mysteriously.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Wait and see.’ He returned his attention to the road then, easing the team over the brow of a hill and then gently applying the brakes so that the Swan slid down the incline without putting any strain at all on the horses. There was no jarring or jolting as there would have been with Will, just a smooth flowing motion which didn’t seem to check the coach’s speed at all.

The crowds of Crawley passed in a blur, she hardly saw them, she was too intent upon the knowledge that gradually they must be catching up with the other two coaches. She didn’t glance at the George Inn, and she could hardly bear it when Lewis halted the tired horses for his grooms to change them. Seeing him on the box, the men worked as fast as they could,
informing
him that the Iron Duke was still in the lead, and that both coaches had
passed by only four minutes before. Jane’s excitement grew. Only four minutes! Oh, hurry, please hurry!

The change was completed in less time than usual, and then the Swan was speeding on its way, driving swiftly up through the cool greenness of Peasepottage Forest on its way to the fourth change at Maywood.

As they emerged from the forest and saw the South Downs beginning to loom in the distance ahead, she searched the road for a sign of the other two coaches, for surely they would soon see them! But there was nothing and they passed through Handcross, where more crowds were waiting, without seeing their quarry.

It was just outside Handcross, before they reached the gates of Maywood where the next change of horses would be waiting, that they at last saw the Iron Duke, but it was in circumstances which made Jane gasp with horror and alarm, for the magnificent coach was overturned in a ditch, with a small crowd of farm laborers gathered around it from the field where they’d been working.

Lewis immediately began to rein the Swan in, and Jane stared anxiously for a sign of her brother. The coach lay there, its beautiful paintwork scratched and spoiled, its axle quite obviously broken, while the horses, shaken but not injured, were being tended to by several of the men in smocks.

As the Swan at last came to a standstill, she saw Henry, leaning against the side of the Iron Duke, his face ashen and stained with blood from a cut on his forehead. With a mixed cry of relief and anxiety, she scrambled down from the box and ran to him. ‘Henry! Are you all right?’

He was very shaken, but managed to catch her close, hugging her
reassuringly
. ‘Yes, sis. I took a nasty tumble but no bones are broken.’

‘Oh, thank God, thank God!’ There were tears on her cheeks as she clung to him.

He smiled a little, stroking her hair. ‘Ah, so I’m back in your good books again, am I?’