Lady Althea opened her eyes and for a moment was not sure where she was. She gazed round the delightful chamber, decorated in the Oriental style. On the bed hangings, and the curtains, dark red poppies and lush green leaves rioted, the colours nearly as fresh as the day they were hung almost thirty years ago.
With a sigh of pleasure she sank back into the pillows, she was home, sleeping in the rooms she had occupied until she had defied her parents and married Peter Gibson. She could remember clearly the day she and her mother had selected the exotic materials still hanging here.
For the first time in two long years she felt contented with her lot. She believed she was finally turning the corner and could start to live her life without the support of her beloved husband. Still smiling, she leant over and gently tugged the bell rope. She would rise and take a bath. Using the bathing room again after so long would be a novelty.
Edwards appeared beside her. “Yes madam? Are you ready to rise?”
“I am, Edwards. But first I would like a bath. I do not intend to go down this evening so lay out an old gown, any will do.”
Her dresser beamed. “The water is on its way. I heard you sit up and sent word down. There is a note come up for you, my lady, will you read it now?”
Lady Althea held out an elegant hand, the veins showing blue through her pale skin. She unfolded the paper and seeing the contents laughed out loud. A sound Edwards had not heard for far too long.
“Excellent! The Earl has arranged for Madame Ducray to come down from town bringing a selection of materials and ready sewed gowns, for us to choose from. She will be staying at Westerham until all four of us have completely renewed our wardrobes. Is that not splendid news?”
Edwards nodded. “Yes, madam. It's high time you all had new gowns.”
The sound of clattering buckets was clearly heard from the adjoining bathing room and Lady Althea got out of bed with enthusiasm.
“I think I shall have my hair washed as well, Edwards. Perhaps you should cut it for me; it has become far too long and straggly, has it not?”
Two hours later Lady Althea was resting comfortably in her sitting-room, her hair freshly styled and her navy blue eyes alert. She was awaiting a visit from her younger daughters. What had become of Emily, she had no idea. Edwards had sent a message with one of the chambermaids to her room but had found it unoccupied.
Serena and Millie were outside in the passageway and she smiled to think that now her precious girls would be able to grow up in the same luxurious surroundings as she had. If she had had any inkling of exactly what her normally sensible and sedate eldest daughter was doing, at that very moment, she would have been horrified.
Sultan stamped his huge hooves impatiently, he was eager to return to his cosy stable. Being ignored again, he snatched his bridle from his master's hand stretching his nose high into the air. It had the desired effect.
“Stand, sir. Enough of that nonsense.” Sebastian said, laughing at his mount's antics.
“I believe he's trying to tell you that he wishes to be in his stable, not standing about here.”
Emily reached up and stroked the velvety nose. She was already in love with this horse. She would dearly love to ride him but knew her cousin would never agree to such a thing. But something prompted her to ask.
“Would you permit me to ride Sultan? He's similar to the stallion I was forced to sell after my father died.”
Sebastian's eyebrows shot up under his hair. “Good God! Are you saying you have ridden such an animal yourself?”
Emily laughed, delighted she had surprised her cousin. “Indeed I have; and I'm not ashamed to say that I always rode astride. I have a habit specially made for that purpose.”
“I do not believe it. No girl alive could ride a horse like Sultan safely.” She bristled and her smile vanished. How dare he call her a liar! Emily threw back her head and challenged him.
“Give me a leg up and you will see just how wrong you are.”
For a moment Sebastian hesitated; it was an outrageous suggestion. Then he saw the fury in her remarkable eyes and decided it would not hurt her to learn a sharp lesson. He would call her bluff.
“Very well; we will take him somewhere safer. The back paddock will do.” He viewed her dusty old-fashioned dress as they walked towards the field. “Do you to need to change into your habit?”
She shook her head. “No, this skirt is full enough; I shall manage.”
Sultan, on discovering he was not to be put into his box, began to show his displeasure by sidling and throwing his head about. Emily was beginning to regret her rash decision but she would not back down; she wished her cousin to discover that, unlike the usual debutantes, there was more to her than feminine fripperies and inane chatter.
It quite escaped her attention that so far, in their brief acquaintance, she had not shown the slightest sign of being either feminine or a chatterbox.
“Are you certain you wish to go through with this, cousin? I will quite understand if you feel you are not up to riding Sultan when he is in this mood.” If he had not accompanied the suggestion with a superior smile Emily might have agreed. In spite of her prowess as a horse woman, she was starting to think that she would not be unable to a control the overexcited animal.
“No, definitely not. I have said I shall ride him and ride him I shall.” They had reached the three acre meadow in which the house cows and miscellaneous poultry lived. The gate latch was stiff and Sultan refused to stand still and allow Sebastian to open it. Without a second thought Emily stepped up and removed the bridle from her cousin's hand.
“Stop that, silly boy!” she murmured as she walked him in a small, tight circle. The horse was so surprised to be led by such a small human that he lowered his huge head and nuzzled her back. “That's better; I don't understand what all the fuss is about.”
“The gate is open. Bring him in,” Sebastian snapped, annoyed that his horse was behaving like a donkey with his smug cousin.
Emily led Sultan into the field and heard the gate clang with an unnecessarily loud bang behind her, making Sultan shy violently, lifting her off her feet for a second.
“It's all right, boy, it's only a silly gate. Slammed by a silly person. Calm down now.”
Sebastian almost snatched the reins back. “You had better adjust the leathers to suit you. I shall hold him for you.”
She held the stirrup under her arm, the quickest way to judge the length she needed, and moved the buckle up five holes. She went round to alter the other and was then ready to mount. She knew Sebastian was expecting her to back down; she would not give him the satisfaction. She gathered up the reins. She could barely reach the horses withers; she bent back her leg and felt
Sebastian take it and then she was in the saddle and Sultan was her responsibility.
She settled herself more securely and slackened the reins, allowing Sultan to flex his neck, or had he so desired, to take hold of the bit and bolt off with her. She heard a sharp intake of breath beside her and knew her cousin was regretting his rash move and was about to step back and grab the bridle.
She clicked her tongue and squeezed her legs firmly and the horse moved away smoothly into a perfect, balanced trot. Emily relaxed; the handsome chestnut was a joy to ride, the most responsive mount she had ever had
She pushed him into a canter and took him in a figure of eight around the paddock. On the second circuit she asked him for a flying change and he obliged. She forgot everything in the exhilaration of the experience. She was unaware that she was showing an indecent amount of leg or that she had attracted a large audience of grooms and stable hands as word of her exploits had spread round the yard.
She rode Sultan for twenty minutes before deciding it was time to allow him to return to his box. After all, he had already been ridden hard by his owner all afternoon. She reined in smoothly at the gate, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. It was only then she noticed the row of grinning faces lined up against the fence.
Good heavens, had the entire staff of Westerham come out to see her? She also became aware that her cousin was not sharing her pleasure. Sebastian was standing, arms folded, his full lips curled in supercilious disdain.
Her heart plummeted. Why had she allowed pride to push her into such a situation? She could feel the warm afternoon breeze cooling her bare calves and knew she had made a dreadful error of judgement. In the space of twenty short minutes she had destroyed her precious reputation. She had also brought disgrace to her mother and her grandfather.
Shamefaced, she did not wait for assistance to dismount. She swung her leg over the saddle and dropped expertly to the ground. She patted Sultan's neck, after all it was not his fault she had made an exhibition of herself and outwardly calm she handed his reins to a waiting groom.
Without bothering to speak she turned and walked through the open gate, and head held high, the sun glinting on her russet hair, she stalked, apparently unconcerned, back to the house.
Once inside she flew up the stairs and ran along the passageways. It was far too late to worry about scandalizing the staff with such immodest behaviour. Her sitting room was mercifully empty; at least her sisters were not there to witness her humiliation. She found her maid in the box room that was now her own.
“Jenny, can you prepare me a hot bath. I shall not get dressed again. I'm going to retire. I have a severe megrim.”
Her abigail wisely refrained from commenting on the fact that her mistress smelled strongly of horse and her once clean dress was now liberally covered with chestnut hair. Nor did she remind Emily that it was her sister Amelia who normally suffered from sick headaches, not her.
Somewhat restored by her total immersion in warm water, Emily retired to her imposing, old-fashioned, four-poster bed, and firmly pulled the heavy damask curtains around her. She had always considered such beds as suitable only for elderly folk but that afternoon she was grateful she could hide in the privacy the drapes created.
In the pink gloom, little sunlight filtered through the heavy material, she sat and considered her position. She had been at Westerham scarcely a day and had already managed to offend just about everyone she had met. She had vomited in the bushes in front of Mr Foster, caused her grandfather to lose his temper and offended her, extremely high in the instep, Cousin Sebastian, not once but twice.
It was a good thing she no longer had to persuade him to marry her. She would never forget the look of absolute disgust on his face as he leant casually against the paddock fence. It would be forever etched on her mind. She did not care that he held her in dislike for her opinion of him was equally dismal.
However the good opinion of both her mother and grandfather were quite a different matter. Her behaviour would have been considered unacceptable even for Millie. And as she was still legally under the control of the earl, he could administer whatever punishment he felt she deserved. If it had been Amelia at fault she supposed he could order a sound spanking, but she was reasonably sure she would be considered too old to receive such treatment.
Slowly her lips curled in a rueful smile. She was actually disciplining herself. After all she had put herself to bed at five o'clock in the afternoon without any supper, had she not? As her empty stomach grumbled alarmingly, she realized it was going to be a very long and uncomfortable time until breakfast.
Emily stretched out her aching limbs, for it had been so long since she had last ridden her body was protesting, and settled down. Her only recourse was to try and sleep the hours away. Unfortunately her dreams were not happy. She spent the entire night being pursued by irate persons of varying ages and sizes but all of them, without exception, possessed a pair of startlingly blue eyes.
Sebastian watched Emily walk away and, in spite of his disgust at her total disregard for the acceptable proprieties, he felt a small measure of admiration at her courage. He pushed himself away from the fence and. ignoring the speculative stares of the staff, strolled off in the direction of the house. He found himself grinning as he pictured his cousin riding his horse so superbly; he was forced to admit that he had never seen a better female rider and neither were there many men who could manage a spirited stallion like Sultan the way she had.
He had accepted her inappropriate challenge expecting her to renege, giving him the welcome opportunity to administer a sharp set-down. If he had thought for a moment that she actually intended to ride, astride, in her walking dress, he would never have agreed. Now she had disgraced herself in front of half the outside staff. A lady would never have exposed herself to such ridicule, even to prove a point.
He shuddered to think what the earl would say when he heard, as inevitably he would, about her exploits. And the wretched girl's poor mother, what of her? She was obviously unwell; would her daughter's unpardonable behaviour cause Lady Althea to suffer a relapse?
He stopped. It was as though someone had thrown an icy bucket of water over his head. How could he be castigating his cousin when the entire episode was entirely his fault? She could not have ridden if he had not only agreed, but actively given her the assistance she needed to mount.
He felt his face suffuse with unaccustomed shame. What had come over him? He was a diplomat, renowned for his level headedness and sharp intellect, but he had allowed himself to be drawn into an appalling escapade solely because his pride had been dented.
He swore, vilely, to himself, and lashed out at a nearby pedestal upon which a shiny marble cherub rested. The agonizing pain that shot up his foot was enough to bring him to his senses. It was his fault. He had somehow to make amends. He was a gentleman and he could not allow his cousin to be blamed for something that was his responsibility. For her to lose her good name would be intolerable, he could see that now. But how he was to save her from certain ruin he had not the slightest notion.
The earl explained to him his only course of action, in no uncertain terms. “Good God, boy, this is a disaster! It is of your making, what were you thinking of? Word of Emily's exploits will be all over the county by morning. Your stupid behaviour has ruined the reputation of an unspoiled country miss. She did not know that what she proposed would destroy her. You certainly did.”
Sebastian almost hung his head. He had not felt so wretched since he was a schoolboy and been reprimanded for a childish prank. How was it possible that a dowdy, beanpole of a chit, had caused him to behave so badly when enraged Prussian generals had failed to move him?
“I accept full responsibility for the incident, sir. It should never have happened. I know that. It was inexcusable of me to allow my cousin to ride astride, in public, improperly dressed.”
His great-grandfather snorted. “Are you trying to imply, sir, that if she had been wearing a habit and ridden in private that such a display would have been acceptable?”
“No, of course, I am not. I just meant...” he stopped, there was nothing to say. He was guilty as charged and ready to do whatever it took to put things right. If Sebastian had seen his grandfather's satisfied smile whilst he was staring morosely at his boots, he might have been more alert. Might have reacted more quickly, been able to extricate himself from the trap.
“And I have your word that you are prepared to do whatever it takes to remedy the situation?”
“Yes, sir, you have.”
“Very well; you have no alternative, you must offer for Emily. The only way her reputation can be salvaged is by becoming your fiancé. People will forgive what takes place between a betrothed couple, however outlandish it might be.”
Sebastian's head shot up, his eyes wide, his complexion white. He met the implacable stare and knew he had no choice. “I agree, my lord. I will offer for her tomorrow.”
“Well done, my boy; you have made the right decision.” The Earl of Westerham left, chuckling happily, leaving the prospective bridegroom sitting, head in his hands, in total misery. It was not just Emily's life that had been ruined by his stupidity, he had also ruined his own.