The Reckoning (81 page)

‘
Nothing, my love. Well, Polly, have you chosen your horse
yet?'

‘
Not yet, uncle. Aunt Héloïse has just invited me to make
my home at Morland Place.’

‘Ah, yes, good. And have you accepted?'

‘
It is most awfully good of you, sir, but I'm afraid I would
be a burden to you.'

‘
Of course you wouldn't,' Héloïse said. 'Family is never a
burden. And if you feel you must have something useful to
do, you can always help Miss Rosedale — she has so much to
do, it is hard for her to get through it all.'

‘
Yes, that's right,' Miss Rosedale said without blinking. 'I
should be glad of a hand now and then.'

‘
Well, in that case, if you're sure —' said Polly doubtfully.

‘
It must be as
you
choose, my dear,' James said. 'If you feel
you would be happy here, we would like to have you.'

‘
And it would be lovely for Sophie to have a companion,'
Héloïse added.

‘
If she ever comes back from Manchester,' James added
drily. 'Our daughter seems to have lost her heart to those
dirty old mills. To miss race week, of all things!'

‘
She will be back soon,' Héloïse said soothingly. 'You know
she never cared for horses as Fanny did. She takes after me,
I'm afraid, rather than you, my James. But I know you're a
fine horsewoman, Polly — isn't she, James?'

‘
She should be — she had the best teacher! So is it settled
then? Are you to come and live with us?'

‘
If you please, uncle,' Polly said, looking happy in a bewil
dered sort of way. 'I should like it very much. But I must
speak to Rosamund first. She's been so kind to me, I couldn't
arrange anything without consulting her.'

‘
We'll ask her now, shall we?' Miss Rosedale said. 'No time
like the present.'

‘
She's gone with Mathilde and John to look at the horses,'
 
said.

‘
Well, I feel like stretching my legs,' said Miss Rosedale.
‘Will you walk with me, Polly?'

‘Yes — gladly.’

Rosamund had indeed gone to the collecting-ring with
Mathilde and John, but had managed to lose them in the
press of people when she got there. She had accepted their
invitation to get away from Marcus, who was being solicitous;
but Mathilde had been talking almost without drawing breath
about her Expectations, which had been confirmed only that
morning to a sufficient degree to make the news public.

John listened with complacency as his wife talked about the date the new child was expected, and how they hoped it would
be a boy this time so that John would have a son to carry on
his business after him, but how they would be quite content if
it were another girl, for Mary was such a model child, and it
would be nice for her to have a sister to play with, and how
they were going to tell Mary about the news and how they
thought she would take it, and how John wanted to engage an
accoucheur this time, but Mathilde was doubtful whether the
expense was warranted ...

And so on, and so on. It was exactly what Rosamund had
dreaded she would be exposed to once she was a mother
herself, and here she was suffering it anyway, which was
ironic, considering her own recent activities. Quite apart from
being boring, she found it unexpectedly upsetting. There was
still a residual trace of guilt in her mind which Mathilde's
chatter stirred up; and worst of all was that Mathilde was obviously blissfully happy to be with child, and John was almost equally so. They kept giving each other glances of
tenderness and contentment which irritated Rosamund so
much that she led them into the thick of the crowd gathered around the ring, and then allowed two very large gentlemen
with cigars to come between her and them and cut her off
from them.

It was perfectly easy then to slip through the press to the other side of the ring, where she could look at the horses in
peace. What a comfort horses were! she thought. So beautiful, so elegant, with their glossy coats and slender legs and bright,
kind eyes; so simple and uncomplicated in their loves and
their requirements. The Morland colt, The Dook, went past
with his head up and his ears pricked, extremely full of
himself, and giving a little fly-buck every now and then
simply to show off. It was obvious that he liked the crowd:
being hand-reared, he had never known anything but affec
tionate attention from human beings, and regarded them as
his natural subjects. Oh, she thought, sighing, to be a horse!

‘
My thoughts exactly,' said a voice close beside her. 'Too
handsome by half, and knows it.’

Her heart thumped irrationally as she looked up into
Jesmond Farraline's beautiful face. 'Yes, it's what people have
said about me, more times than I can count,' he went on, his
eyes laughing into hers. 'Come, now, Lady Chelmsford,
wasn't that what you were about to say? You may speak the
truth to me — we have a pact, don't you remember?'

‘
What are you doing here?' was what she did eventually
say.

‘
I'm trying to pick the winner, of course, though I'm afraid
it's all too obvious, and the odds will not be worth placing a
bet for. You Morlands breed lovely animals, don't you?
Lovely, handsome, and full of spirit.’

His voice was caressive, and he was looking at her in that
way that made the world stand still around them. She knew
perfectly well that when he said 'lovely animals', he was no longer talking about the horses. It was outrageous for a man
to call a woman an animal, and yet it was strangely exciting,
and in a curious way — just at the moment — true. They were
male and female animal, standing alone together in an other
wise empty world, like Adam and Eve, just that instant
created and knowing nothing yet but that they existed. She
had a brief, alarming vision of herself as naked as a horse
turned out in a field, and as free. God, that life could ever be
that simple!

‘
The Dook will certainly win,' she said, iceberg-like. 'My uncle James says so, and he should know. But what I meant
was, how can you leave your mills to be here? Don't they
require constant attention?'

‘
Just at the moment, everything is going so well that I am
able to leave them for a much-needed holiday. We are
working at full capacity, orders are coming in fast, and my
manager and overseers have only to keep the wheels turning. I found myself suddenly
de trop,
and recollecting it was race
week, thought I would take time for a little recreation. How
splendid to find you here, though!'

‘
Have you seen my cousin Sophie in Manchester?' she
asked abruptly.

‘
Yes, I have. I see her quite often. She is staying with Mrs
Percy Droylsden again, and thank God for it!'

‘
Why?'

‘
Because Mrs Droylsden makes her go into society, to
dances and concerts and assemblies. Otherwise she would
spend all her time grubbing about in the tenements helping
sick mill-hands. Your cousin is a young woman with a
passionate need to love, and at the moment, no-one is making
use of it. So she wastes herself on philanthropy.'

‘
So much concern for her well being, Mr Farraline? What is
it to you whether she wastes her love?’

He smiled, quite unprovoked. 'She is my friend's sister-in-
law. Fitz cares about her, and so must I. In any case, am I
such a block, am I so insensate and selfish that I can't care for
what is worth caring about? Miss Morland is a lovely young
woman, as I have cause to know. She and I have become great friends.'

‘Friends? Can a man and a woman be friends?'

‘
What a bitter question! Of course they can — and if you
can ask it, you must need a friend very badly. Well, here I am
— make use of me. And, yes — for I see the question in your
doubting eyes — I did know you were here. Your cousin
Sophie told me she had had a letter from you from Yorkshire.
She sends her love and everything appropriate.'

‘
Is she happy? She tells me nothing in her letters about
herself.'

‘
She is on the verge of being happy,' Farraline said. 'I am
doing what I can to advance her cause.'

‘
You? What can you do for her? Are you intending to make
her an offer?’

He laughed. 'That would not advance her happiness, I
assure you. I am in no position to take a wife without a
large dowry. Oh, there was a time when she was my object, I
admit. That was why Fitz introduced me to her in the first
place —'

‘What?' Rosamund looked scandalised.

‘
Yes — didn't you know? I thought he must have told you
that, or that you would have guessed it.'

‘
Not precisely,' she said grimly. 'I suspected it at first, but
Sophie is not an heiress. Then Mr Hawker revealed to me
that he had thought she would inherit Morland Place. But I always thought it was for himself that he intended her, not
for you.'

‘
It was not Morland Place, but the mills I was after,' Farra
line said frankly. 'They would have fitted very nicely with
mine — and I had every hope that if I married the Hobsbawn
mills, Kit would give me the Ordsall mills for my own.'

‘
Oh you villain! How can you confess to me so calmly that
you had such dastardly plans towards my cousin? Don't you
know I love her?’

He raised his brows. 'Why do you call it dastardly? I meant
to make her an honourable proposal, to marry her and
dedicate myself to making her happy — indeed, I always
meant to make her happy! I would not do less for any woman
I married. Pride alone would require it, leaving aside any
question of affection.'

‘
Worse and worse! What false coin you would have
offered!’

He looked offended. 'I'm not so despicable a match, am I? I may only be the brother of an earl, but my blood is good. And
if Kit should die without an heir —'

‘That is not likely.'

‘
Never mind. Even at the beginning, my plan was not
dishonourable. And when I came to know her, I began truly
to esteem her. Why, otherwise, would I have gone against my
mother's wishes, and made myself her friend after
Manchester discovered she was not an heiress? Why would I
have been advancing her cause all this summer?'