Riding In the Sky Read online

  There was the china to be dusted, the floors to be swept and she was also guiltily aware that she should really be mending a curtain that was torn.

  But she merely stood at the open window, looking out into the garden.

  She was seeing not the overgrown shrubs and that the grass on the lawn needed cutting.

  Instead she saw only the beauty of Kilne Hall, the swans moving majestically over the silver lake.

  Almost as if she could see him, the Marquis’s face was in front of her.

  She knew that he would haunt her for the rest of her life.

  Because she could not help it, the tears came into her eyes.

  Once again she was whispering in her heart,

  ‘Goodbye, my love – goodbye – ’

  She heard the door of the drawing room open.

  Thinking it must be old Smeaton, she turned her back so that he should not see her tears.

  He said nothing and after a moment, because the silence seemed strange, Filipa asked,

  “Do – you want – me?”

  “That is why I am here!” a voice replied.

  Filipa gave a start of surprise.

  She turned round to see incredulously that it was not Smeaton who was standing there but the Marquis!

  He was looking exceedingly handsome and at the same time very smart in his riding clothes.

  As she stared at him, feeling that she must be dreaming, he walked across the room to stand in front of her.

  He did not speak and after a while she stammered,

  “Why – why are you – here? Is – anything – wrong?”

  It flashed through her mind that perhaps Lord Seaforth had tried once again to injure the horses.

  “Nothing is wrong,” the Marquis replied in his deep voice, “except that one of my guests most surprisingly left without saying goodbye!”

  “I-I had to g-go,” Filipa murmured.

  “Why?”

  There was no answer to this and so she asked him quickly,

  “Why – are you – here? How did you – find me?”

  The Marquis smiled.

  “I used my brain.”

  She looked at him questioningly and he explained,

  “When I learned that you had gone creeping away in the middle of the night, I made enquiries and found that you had ridden off in the clothes you had arrived in, so I was quite certain that you had not gone to London.”

  It was impossible to go on looking at him.

  Filipa stared out of the window.

  “I am sure that Mark came here when he left me,” the Marquis went on.

  Filipa drew in her breath.

  “You have been very kind to Mark – and I know I should – thank you. He was very – excited at the – idea of going to Syria.”

  “I thought it would please you after I guessed who you were,” the Marquis said quietly.

  “Y-you – guessed?”

  “I was almost certain or shall I say that I was suspicious that you were not a Pretty Horse-Breaker.”

  Filipa did not speak, so he continued,

  “When your supposed protector was so delighted at the idea of going to Syria that he seemed not to give you a thought, I could not believe that your relationship was what it pretended to be.”

  Filipa blushed and she said in a low shy voice,

  “I – only came with Mark because – Lulu let him down at the last moment – and he was so longing to – ride in your race – and so flattered that you had – invited him to do so.”

  “I should be very angry with him for doing anything so outrageous as to invite his sister to my party, except that, had you not taken part in it, I would never have met you!”

  “I can – understand that you – were shocked,” Filipa said, “and I know that my mother would – not have approved – but Mark was in great financial difficulties – having bought Hercules and having a number of other debts too.”

  “I have bought Hercules from him,” the Marquis said, “and I imagine he can cope with the rest.”

  “You have – been so very very – kind,” Filipa said, “and I am more – grateful than I can – possibly say.”

  “There is a way to express it,” the Marquis answered, “when words prove inadequate.”

  She knew that he was referring to how he had kissed her last night.

  Once again she blushed and turned to look away from him as she said,

  “I am – s-sorry, but now you must – understand that I – cannot do what – you suggested.”

  There was silence.

  Then, after a moment, she said falteringly,

  “It was a – miracle for – us that we – won the one thousand guineas. I felt that it was an – answer to my – prayers – and I am sure that – Papa helped us.”

  She thought perhaps the Marquis might be angry and she went on quickly,

  “I was sure, too, that he – helped you to think of – sending Mark to Syria – and giving him an – interest apart from the – gaieties of London, which are very expensive.”

  “Actually,” the Marquis confessed, “when I thought of it, I was planning to send him out of your life because I wanted you myself!”

  He spoke in a quiet deep voice.

  For a moment Filipa did not understand exactly what he was implying.

  Then she gave a little cry.

  “It was only after you left me last night that I really understood what you were – suggesting – and I ran away – so that I would – never have to see you again.”

  “And would that make you happy?” the Marquis asked.

  Filipa wanted to reply that it would make her utterly miserable. Instead she clasped her hands together and she was trembling as she said,

  “Please – I cannot talk about it – it is wrong and – something that would horrify Mama if she thought that I had even – considered it.”

  Filipa turned her face towards the Marquis as she said,

  “I want to thank you for – all you have – done for Mark and for me – because now I have – money to pay the servants – and we shall have – enough to eat at least until Mark returns, but – ”

  She could not go on.

  She thought that the Marquis was looking at her coldly and she felt the tears come back into her eyes.

  “But – what?” he asked.

  “What you are – suggesting,” Filipa said with an effort, “is wicked – although you would not – think so.”

  Now the tears filled her eyes and it was impossible for her to say anything more.

  “What I suggested last night was, I admit, wrong and wicked for you,” the Marquis agreed, “and that is why I have come here today to ask you something very different.”

  Filipa wanted to know what it was, but she could not say the words that trembled on her lips.

  She was only conscious that the tears were running down her cheeks and she hoped that if she did not rub them away, the Marquis would not notice them.

  She felt him draw a little nearer to her and she was pulsatingly aware of him.

  She longed, as she had never longed for anything in her life, for him to hold her in his arms and kiss her once again before he left.

  “Turn round and let me look at you,” the Marquis said very softly.

  Because she was ashamed of her tears, Filipa only shook her head.

  Gently he put one arm around her shoulders and turned her round to face him.

  He lifted her chin as he did so, so that he could look down at her tear-stained face.

  She knew that she ought to stop him, to run away and perhaps even to struggle with him.

  But, because he was touching her, she felt the thrill of it run through her body like a ray of the sun.

  Instinctively, although she did not mean to, she moved a little closer to him.

  Then, because she could not look at him, she closed her eyes.

  She thought perhaps he would kiss her and that, at least, would be something for her to remember
when he had gone.

  For a moment they were both very still. Then he said,

  “Look at me, Filipa, look at me, my darling.”

  She was surprised that he knew her real name.

  Because his voice was beguiling and she was too bemused by being so close to him to think clearly, she did as he told her.

  She opened her eyes and found that his face was very near to hers.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked.

  She could not give him an answer.

  She could only stare at him, her eyes seeming to fill her whole face.

  “What I have come to ask you,” the Marquis said very quietly, “is whether you will do me the great honour of becoming my wife!”

  Filipa thought that she could not have heard him aright or else she was dreaming.

  Then, as if he knew that there was no point in waiting for an answer, his lips came down on hers, holding her captive.

  He kissed her and it was even more wonderful and more ecstatic than it had been last night.

  She felt as if the sun enveloped them both and it swept them into the sky and they were riding closely together on clouds of glory.

  Only when the Marquis raised his head was she able to say in a whisper that came from the depths of her soul,

  “I love – you – I – love you!”

  “As I love you!”

  Then he was kissing her again.

  Kissing her until she thought that she must have died and was no longer on earth but in Heaven.

  *

  A long time later Filipa found herself seated on the sofa.

  The Marquis had his arm around her and her head was on his shoulder.

  He had wiped the tears from her eyes and now they were shining with a radiance that seemed to suffuse the room with light.

  “Is it true – really true – what you just – said to me?” she whispered.

  “That I want you to be my wife?” the Marquis asked. “It is true, my precious, and let me tell you, it is the first time that I have ever asked anyone to marry me.”

  “But – I feel it is something we – should not do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know nothing of the – Social world you live in, and perhaps – when you know me better – you will find me very dull – and boring.”

  The Marquis laughed.

  “I think that is unlikely. If you were brave enough to pretend to be a Pretty Horse-Breaker – which I find an exceedingly reprehensible thing to have done – I cannot believe that there are not a number of things you will do in the future that will be just as original.”

  “And supposing it – is something I would – not want to do again?” Filipa asked.

  “It is something you will never do again, as far as I am concerned,” the Marquis replied, “and if you were shocked, my precious, at what I suggested, it is entirely your own fault.”

  “Did you – really think I was like – Lulu and those other – women?”

  “I will tell you exactly what I thought,” the Marquis replied. “From the moment I first saw you I knew that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my whole life.”

  Filipa made a little murmur of happiness, but she did not speak.

  He went on,

  “I was only so astonished, when I saw how you rode and how you behaved, that someone so young and new to London could be so unusual and such an outstanding rider.”

  He gave a little laugh before he went on,

  “I admit, my adorable one, that I had no idea any lady could ride as well as you did.”

  “Then – what did you – think?” Filipa asked.

  “I wanted you as I have never wanted any woman before!” the Marquis replied. “And when I saved you from Percy Daverton, I was determined that he should not upset you again and I wanted to protect you.”

  He smiled somewhat wryly before he continued,

  “I admit that is something I have never wanted in the past. In fact I know that I have been entirely selfish in thinking of myself rather than the woman I was with.”

  “I have always – found you – kind and very – unselfish,” Filipa said.

  She could not bear him to disparage himself.

  “I was astounded when I found you bandaging my footman’s hand,” the Marquis went on as if he was following his own train of thought. “I have never known any of the Pretty Horse-Breakers to concern themselves with anybody’s problems but their own and they would certainly never worry over a servant.”

  “You were very kind not to dismiss him – as he feared you would,” Filipa said.

  “That was because you asked me not to.”

  “I think you would always be just – at least I like to – think so.”

  The Marquis kissed her forehead.

  Then, as if he thought that he must go on with his story, he said,

  “When I found Seaforth beating you in that appalling manner, he was lucky I did not kill him! No man has ever been nearer death than he was at that moment!”

  His voice had sharpened.

  Then he said gently,

  “When I carried you upstairs and you were barely conscious, I knew that it would be impossible for me to live without you and I had to make you mine.”

  “And that was – when you – decided to – send Mark away.”

  “I knew from the way he talked, the way he rode and his passion for horses that it was a challenge that would delight him and I thought that, if I cleared the decks, I would have every chance of winning you for myself.”

  “I-I loved you – and when you kissed me,” Filipa said, “it was the most – wonderful – marvellous thing that has ever – happened to me.”

  “You had never been kissed before?”

  “No – of course not!”

  The Marquis’s arms tightened.

  “My darling, if you only knew how tortured I was by the thought that Mark was your lover!”

  It was then that Filipa turned her face away from him.

  “How – could you think that I would – do anything so – wicked?”

  There was a gentle smile on the Marquis’s lips.

  There was also an expression in his eyes that no one had ever seen before as he said,

  “I should have known that that was what you would feel and that no one could look as pure and innocent as you and at the same time belong to a world in which, most deceitfully, you had appeared.”

  Filipa hid her head against his neck and he added,

  “That is all over now. You will be my wife and I will look after you and protect you and, my darling, I shall be a very jealous husband.”

  “There will be no – need for you to be – jealous. I will be the one who will be – worried in case you find someone – more exciting than me.”

  “That is extremely unlikely, for no one could ride as well, look as beautiful and be the other half of myself, for whom I have been looking all my life.”

  “Is that true – really true?”

  “I swear it!”

  “But you have not – told me how you – knew who I – was before you came here.”

  “Mark told me that you had gone to London, but I knew that was a lie and it seemed unlikely that, wearing your blue gown and flowered bonnet, as your maid told me you had, you would go far.”

  He gave a little laugh before he went on,

  “I looked Mark up in Debrett’s Peerage and found not only his address but also that he had a sister called Filipa.”

  Because she could not help it, Filipa laughed.

  “So – it was as – easy as that!”

  “I had been taught at Eton that ‘Filipa’ meant ‘a lover of horses’, and I did not need to be a detective to guess that Filipa could become ‘Fifi’,” the Marquis said, “and that Filipa Seymour was not a Pretty Horse-Breaker, but a lady in disguise!”

  “I-I thought I should – never see you again.”

  “How could you do anything so cruel and so unkind, as
to leave me only half a man because I had lost you?”

  “I did not – mean to hurt you – but I was so unhappy.”

  “You will never be unhappy again,” he said. “How quickly can we be married?”

  There was only a short pause before Filipa replied,

  “Now – this very moment – because I love you so much!”

  The Marquis laughed and it was a very happy sound.

  “Only you could say anything so unexpected!” he smiled.

  “I am quite certain, my darling, that you have forgotten that you have no Wedding gown to wear.”

  “It will not matter, except that I want to look – beautiful for – you.”

  “God, how I love you!” the Marquis said. “You are so very different from anyone I have ever known and so utterly and completely adorable, I am going to marry you as quickly as possible simply because I am afraid of losing you.”

  “I am quite sure that I am – dreaming,” Filipa tried to say, “but – ”

  Then he was kissing her again.

  Kissing her so insistently that it was impossible to think of anything but him and the rapture he was arousing within her.

  She knew without words that he felt the same.

  *

  Filipa was married the day before Mark left for Syria.

  Because she knew that the Marquis would enjoy organising their marriage just as he had organised the races, she left everything in his hands.

  He had taken her to London to the house of his elder sister, who was married to the Earl of Dunstable.

  She was so thrilled that, having for years resisted the pleas of the family to be married and produce an heir, he had at last found himself a wife and she welcomed Filipa with open arms.

  It was the Marquis’s sister who had the dressmakers come scurrying to her husband’s house in Grosvenor Square.

  They produced a trousseau as if by magic and a Wedding gown that Filipa felt must have belonged to one of the Goddesses of Mount Olympus.

  She walked up the aisle on Mark’s arm.

  When she saw the Marquis waiting for her, she felt as if they reached out to each other across time and space.

  There was only the Earl and Countess of Dunstable, the Marquis’s younger sister and her husband and Major Henderson to see them married.

  When they went back to the Marquis’s house in Park Lane, there was no need for speeches.

  Nor, as the Marquis said, the exertion of shaking hundreds of hands, which was something he most disliked.