The Gallant Guardian (8 page)

“Yes. Griggs is as knowledgeable a man as you could hope to find where horses are concerned. If he takes a liking to you, as he seems to have, he can teach you more than anyone I have ever known about blood stocks and breeding, the ins and outs of knee action, how to raise horses that don’t shy. You cannot go wrong with Griggs as your teacher. He was an orphan and grew up on a stud farm in Yorkshire. I was lucky to persuade him to come to me when his master was forced to sell out. I offered to pay him handsomely, but truth to tell, he finds life a good deal more dull with me. Training horses is his true interest and he only bears with the tame life I give him because I pay him so well and I have promised to set up a stud farm of my own some day.”

“A farm of your own? For race horses?” William was quite pale with excitement.

“Yes. I have one or two particular ideas of my own about breeding and training that I should like to try, though at the moment I am too involved in other things to give the project my full attention.”

If Lord Lydon had been a hero in William’s eyes before, he had now reached the status of a demigod. “Do you go to Newmarket? Jem and Tim have told me that that is the place to see the fastest horses. How I should love to see it. I have asked Charlie if we may go some time, but she says that it is not the sort of place for young ladies to be seen.”

“And she is entirely correct in that.” The marquess directed a rueful smile in Charlotte’s direction. “But we shall have to see what we can do about that. In the meantime, remember you
did
agree to go out driving with me,” again he directed a meaningful glance at William’s sister, “after you have finished your lessons.”

Charlotte smiled fondly at her brother. “It was very good of you to remember your lessons when Lord Lydon offered you such a splendid invitation.”

“I was good, wasn’t I, Charlie?” He responded proudly. “But Lord Lydon said I could go with him another day.”

“And so you shall, but now you had better run along. You do not want to keep Dr. Moreland waiting.”

William looked as though he would not mind in the least making the vicar wait when such stimulating company was to be had, but he gave in with good grace and, bestowing a quick hug on his sister, went off toward the schoolroom.

“You are very good to take him driving, my lord, but you must not let him tease you. In general William is very well behaved, but horses are his passion and he tends to forget his manners in his excitement over them.”

“I do not mind in the least,” the marquess hastened to assure her. “I enjoy driving, and from the little I have seen, I can tell that William seems to understand highbred cattle thoroughly enough that he is likely to be a good passenger.” Maximilian was gratified to see the anxious look fade from her eyes.

Charlotte’s devotion to her brother was unlike anything he had encountered before. He was touched and humbled by her selfless dedication to the welfare of someone whom most ordinary people would simply ignore. For a moment the marquess wondered, almost wistfully, what it would be like to be loved so completely and disinterestedly.

Chapter Nine

Maximilian had not been wrong in his assessment of William’s capacities as a passenger. The boy’s face was alight with happiness as they bowled down Harcourt’s tree-lined drive the next day. He sat quietly, his eyes fixed for the most part on the marquess’s hands. “You must have to be very strong to keep them in check when you spring them,” he observed.

“Yes it does take a good deal of strength, but they have very sensitive mouths and respond very quickly. The thing is to plan ahead so that you pace them correctly and do not have to make any sudden moves. One should never have to haul on the reins so much as to lean back or to stand up. A good deal of that can also be prevented by being sure you have chosen the height of the seat correctly so that it gives full support to the back and legs should you have to rein in your horses. A driver should always remain straight in his seat.”

“I
thought
that was the way it was supposed to be.” William nodded with a good deal of satisfaction. “Cousin Cecil always leans way forward. He told me that is the way an alert person handles his horses, but I think he does not like to drive. He usually has his coachman drive; he says that being driven commands the proper respect from tenants, but
I
think he is afraid of horses.” William lapsed into silence as they emerged from the drive onto the road and picked up speed, but after some minutes of what appeared to be deep thought he turned to the marquess. “Do you like Cousin Cecil, sir?”

Here was a question indeed, and Lord Lydon, for all his usual address, found himself at a standstill. The blue eyes fixed so trustingly on him begged him for some sort of an answer, but he knew not what. “I only just met him so I hardly know the man well enough to form an opinion.” He hedged. For one who constantly scoffed at the polite lies that members of the
ton
traded with one another, Maximilian was finding it remarkably difficult to admit the truth, which was that he found Sir Cecil Wadleigh to be a rather nasty piece of work, and he chided himself for his lack of courage.

“I think he does not like me. I try to be nice to him and I told Charlotte that he could ride Duke if he likes, but she says that perhaps he is not used to boys my age and I should let him get to know me better. What do you think?”

Privately, Maximilian thought that he was in thorough agreement with the sentiment once expressed to him by Charlotte; he infinitely preferred William’s company to Cecil’s. At this particular moment he wanted to do nothing so much as tear William’s slimy cousin from limb to limb for causing the look of hurt bewilderment in the boy’s eyes. “I expect that your sister is in the right of it. Your cousin Cecil seems to be a bit starched up. He must have had some unfortunate experience with rag-mannered young people and therefore expects you to act the same way.”

“Oh.” William did not look convinced. “But he looks at me with mean eyes. I wish he were more like you, sir. You are a great gun, aren’t you?”

Maximilian chuckled as he neatly feathered a corner. “There are not many who would agree with you. In general, I am looked upon as a shocking loose screw.”

“You, sir? But you are top-of-the-trees. Anyone can see that.”

“Why thank you, William. But in most company, it takes more than an eye for well-bred horseflesh and light hands to be accepted.”

“But you would not want to be liked by people who did not admire those things, would you, sir?”

The marquess’s lean, tanned face twisted into a sardonic smile as he recalled the disapproving stares of the town tabbies, marriage-mad young misses, and mothers of eligible daughters. “No, William,” he replied slowly, “I would not. You are quite in the right of it.”

Max gave the horses their heads as he mulled the entire conversation over in his mind. There was something strangely gratifying about the boy’s unhesitating and unquestioning admiration. It had been a long time since someone had simply appreciated Maximilian for the person he was. Too often he was subjected to the disdainful looks of people who, without bothering to know him, accepted the general hearsay that he was a sad rake. Or he had endured the calculating smiles of women who cared nothing for the man, but only for the envy they would inspire in the breasts of others by attaching someone who was known to be unattachable.

With William the marquess felt the way he did with Felbridge and Griggs and with the horses and dogs he had loved over the years; that he could just be himself, Max, and that that was sufficient for them to enjoy his company. Responding to this comfortable feeling, he surprised himself by turning to the boy. “Would you like to hold the ribbons for a while?”

William was breathless with the honor of it all. “Could I?” he eventually managed to gasp.

Telling himself that he must be thoroughly and completely mad, the marquess nodded. “Here, sit closer to me and put your hands on the reins behind my hands, holding them just as I do.”

William edged carefully over on the seat, doing just as he was told, his brow furrowed in concentration as he gently took the reins.

Slowly, carefully, Lord Lydon loosened his grip and withdrew his hands, watching closely and tensing himself to grab them back should the lad upset the horses with any unexpected movement.

He need not have worried. William, who always found quicker acceptance among animals than humans, was well aware that any sudden movement or change in the pull on the mouths of the horses could have disastrous effects. He remained as calm and steady as the marquess could have wished, hardly daring to let himself breathe. In fact, the team seemed to be entirely unaware that any change had occurred. They continued on as before without even so much as the flick of an ear to betray their sense of a new pair of hands on the reins.

They drove several miles this way, William sitting ramrod straight, his hands and arms maintaining the precise angle that the marquess’s had, his eyes fixed steadily on the road ahead of him. Lord Lydon heaved a sigh of relief that the kindly impulse he had yielded to had not brought them to any calamity.

They approached a more winding, hilly stretch of road and William, never taking his eyes off the team, broke his silence of concentration. “I think you had better take over now, sir.” He maintained his position steadily until the pressure on the reins in front of his hands slackened as the marquess took them back into his capable grasp. Then he slid smoothly back to his place on the seat. “Thank you ever so much, sir.”

The blue eyes shone with gratitude and his entire being glowed with happiness. “You are so kind. I cannot wait to tell Charlie that I took the ribbons. She will be so surprised. They are very strong, are they not, sir? It must be most tiring to drive a very long way as you do.” Then, overwhelmed and not a little worn out by his experience, he fell into silence for the rest of the drive, content to observe the countryside and enjoy the thrill of riding in a magnificent sporting vehicle behind a superbly matched team of horses.

His excitement burst forth, however, the moment they halted on the gravel under Harcourt’s portico. Carefully climbing down he once again thanked his guardian and then raced up the steps shouting, “Charlie, Charlie, I drove, I drove! Charlie, Lord Lydon let me drive his curricle!” His voice echoed through the entrance hall as he raced off to the library in search of his sister.

The marquess climbed down more slowly and handed the reins to Griggs, who had materialized the minute the brilliant yellow of the carriage had flashed through the stately line of ancient elms along the drive.

“How did it go, sir?”

“Very well. I was even rash enough to let him take the ribbons.”

The tiger’s weather-beaten features puckered into a rare grin. “I imagined you might, sir. He is horse-mad, that boy, but he is a good lad and I’ll wager he handled himself fine.”

“Yes he did. He seems to have an instinctive feel for the animals.”

“That he does, sir. It is a rare gift that I have not seen above a few times in my life. The horses seem to sense that he understands them and they trust him. Your Ajax was meek as a lamb yesterday when I let Master William brush out his tail.”

“Ajax? Why even I take care to see that he is in a mellow mood when I approach him. The high spirits that distinguish him on the hunting field can also make him rather difficult to deal with.”

“I know, sir, but he and the lad just took to each other, you might say.”

“And you, too, Griggs. It is a rare person who wins your favor. You can be as touchy as your horses.”

Griggs bobbed his head and chuckled as he began to lead the team back to the stables. “That is a fact, sir, but I like the lad. Which I can’t say the same for
some,”
he muttered as he caught sight of Cecil emerging from the hall.

“Good day, Lydon. I see that you have been touring the country. We have some rather pleasant drives around here, and though nothing in the surrounding countryside can compare with Harcourt, there are some rather fine houses which I should be delighted to show you.”

Cecil’s ingratiating smile was wasted on the marquess, who thanked him briefly and turned to follow Griggs to the stables and continue their discussion of William, but Cecil, having captured the marquess’s attention, was not about to be brushed off so easily.

“Tidworth tells me that you took young William driving with you this morning. That was most kind of you, but there is no need for you to devote your precious time to the boy. Almeria, who is very good at these things, has come up with a proper companion for him. Our housekeeper at Wadleigh, a very good sort of woman, has recommended her cousin as being a person precisely suited to acting as companion for a young man of William’s ah, er,
condition,
and Almeria has written to her.”

Companion? Keeper, more like,
Maximilian muttered savagely under his breath. “That is very thoughtful of Lady Wadleigh, but entirely unnecessary. William’s sister and I have discussed the matter thoroughly and I see no reason not to leave things precisely as they are.”

“Leave them as they are?” Cecil was aghast. “But the boy is an idiot!” Lord Lydon’s raised eyebrows and incredulous stare silenced him, but only briefly. Smiling nervously, he continued, “Come now, my lord, we are both men of the world and we can admit to ourselves that the boy is not right in the head, nor will he ever be. He is not fit for polite society and will be far more comfortable off somewhere else where he will not be exposed to the agitating influences of the outside world. The housekeeper’s cousin is a capable girl with a good deal of sense about her. With her and perhaps a maid to help out, William should do quite nicely. I am sure we could find a nice little cottage in the country, say Devon or Cornwall, where the air is healthy and the lad could be quite happy away from the prying eyes and gossips he is subject to here.”

“You are
too
considerate.” Maximilian did not bother to soften me biting ironic edge to his voice. “But believe me, there is not the least need to go to such trouble on his behalf. Lady Charlotte assures me that he is quite content here and, as to the good people of Harcourt, why they accept him for what he is and like him for his good nature. It is quite unnecessary for you to bother yourself on his behalf.”