A Change of Hearts Read online

  Lady Sarah took the end of the table.

  Neisa found herself sitting halfway down the table with Carol in much the same position on the other side.

  The two gentlemen on either side of Neisa made it very clear that they thought her money could buy her the very best horses available and they hoped one day that they would have a chance of riding them.

  They were somewhat naïve about it and not, she thought, particularly tactful.

  She managed, by talking about horses she had seen abroad and letting them lecture her on English breeds, to get through luncheon without much difficulty.

  The ladies left the dining room first.

  It was then that the gentleman she had considered rather unpleasant addressed her as she passed by,

  “I would like to talk more with you, Miss Waverton, and I will make sure that tonight I have a chance to do so.”

  She smiled at him as she thought it polite.

  When she walked outside the dining room door, she found she was standing beside Lady Sarah.

  “Who is that gentleman,” she asked, “who spoke to me just now? I was introduced to him, but I did not hear his name clearly.”

  “That is a cousin of my nephew’s,” replied Lady Sarah. “His name is Randolph Holme, and he is, I might say, something of a problem.”

  Neisa wondered in what way.

  There was, however, no chance of a conversation with Lady Sarah as the other ladies were all talking to her, asking questions about what was planned for that evening.

  “I am quite sure,” one said, “that the Marquis has something up his sleeve that will be very exciting for all of us. I only hope I will be smart enough to compete with the millionaires!”

  “You always look smart, Lady Georgina,” replied Lady Sarah, “and I do think you will find that my nephew does not expect you to do anything spectacular this evening as he did the last time you were here.”

  “That’s a major relief!” exclaimed Lady Georgina, “except that it was such fun and so unusual last time. I just cannot believe that tonight will only be an ordinary feast of eating and drinking!”

  Lady Sarah chuckled.

  “It will not be as bad as all that. At least you will not have to act out a charade this time.”

  Neisa wondered what had happened last time and thought, although she did not like to ask questions, it must have been intriguing.

  Carol joined her and asked in a low voice,

  “What do we do now?”

  “As soon as the gentlemen join us, we will go out to look at the horses and bet on which one will win the steeplechase.”

  “I cannot afford to do that,” whispered Neisa.

  “Don’t forget that you are me,” Carol muttered in a voice she could hardly hear. “You must put at least twenty pounds on anything you fancy.”

  “Twenty pounds!” Neisa exclaimed in horror.

  “A quarter goes to charity and they will think I am mean if I give less than that amount.”

  “Yes – of course, I had forgotten I am you.”

  She could not help ruminating that twenty pounds would feed her and her father for almost two months.

  It seemed seriously appalling to risk so much on a single horse.

  Almost immediately, because the Marquis wanted them to move, the gentlemen joined the ladies.

  When they walked out through the front door, they could see the horses already coming from the stables.

  They were the finest horses Neisa had ever seen.

  There were several outstanding stallions, as well as one or two mares, that she thought looked like good jumpers.

  Although the horse that her father currently kept was a loyal old mare, in her life she had ridden a wide assortment of animals from donkeys and mules to blue-blooded Arabs.

  This made her conclude that she might actually be a better judge of horses in some ways than those who had ridden nothing but the best British thoroughbreds.

  A groom led out each horse, all bridled but not saddled.

  The Marquis and his guests stood on the steps and the horses were paraded round and round in a circle.

  Then they were lined up each well apart from each other, ready to be closely inspected. Any guest who was interested could then talk to the grooms holding them.

  Neisa went from one to the other, patting the horses and looking at their feet and height.

  There was one stallion that she considered really overwhelmingly outstanding and she was not that surprised when she was told his name was Champion.

  He was to be ridden in the steeplechase only by the Marquis, as he was his favourite mount.

  “I am sure that Champion will win,” she said to the groom who was holding him.”

  “I shall be extremely disappointed if he does not,” a voice came from behind her.

  She spun round to see that the voice belonged to the Marquis.

  “He is the most beautiful stallion I have ever seen,” enthused Neisa.

  “And I am quite sure, Miss Waverton, that you are a good judge of horseflesh.”

  She was a little uncertain if he was being sarcastic or genuine, so she replied,

  “Horses like Champion are only bred occasionally and often where one least expects it. I think you are very lucky to own him, my Lord.”

  “I think so too, but it is no use betting on Champion because even if I ride him round the course and win, I am disqualified as being the owner of the steeplechase.”

  Neisa laughed.

  “That’s a very funny reason!”

  “It is a very fair one as I have the advantage of the steeplechase being on my land, so I know it very well, and also, as you have just said, I have the best horse.”

  “But surely you will ride in the race, my Lord?”

  “Of course,” he replied, “but just for the pleasure of showing Champion off, which I can assure you he enjoys very much indeed.”

  “As he has every right to – ”

  She patted Champion again and then she remarked,

  “I would really love more than anything else to ride a horse like Champion, so that I can compare him with other horses I have been privileged to ride.”

  She knew as she spoke that the Marquis looked at her in surprise.

  “That is something no one has ever dared to ask me before, because they would be certain I would refuse!”

  “I was really talking to myself rather than to you, my Lord. Of course I should not presume to ride anything so wonderful.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “My cousin did say that there might be a chance we could ride tomorrow before the race starts.”

  “If that is what you would like to do,” the Marquis replied, “then anything in my stable, except Champion, is at your disposal.”

  Neisa’s eyes lit up.

  “That would be very exciting for me!”

  The Marquis gave a somewhat wry smile.

  “Do you really mean that or are you being polite? After all I am sure that your father owns the finest stable in Colorado or wherever it is you live in America.”

  “That is exactly what he likes to think,” said Neisa after a moment’s thought, “but anyone who travels a great deal knows that where the horses are concerned, as with people, one is continually being surprised. They turn up in the most unexpected places, and if one is lucky, one has a chance of riding them.”

  “I know what you are saying, Miss Waverton, but I make it a rule that I and I alone ride Champion, and I am afraid that on this occasion you are going to be unlucky.”

  Neisa did not explain to him that she was really not thinking at that moment of Champion.

  She was remembering a stallion she and her father had discovered in a strange place in the East where it had arrived by a circuitous and unusual route from Syria.

  It had been bought by Arabs, ridden by Arabs and finally sold by Arabs.

  They had managed to buy it very cheaply and it had been the finest horse she or her father ha
d ever mounted.

  When they came back to England, they had left him behind, but it had been with a man they could trust to look after him and love him until he died.

  Neisa had often found herself thinking of that horse at night and she wished over and over again that he had not been left behind.

  She realised the Marquis had misunderstood what she was saying – yet she thought it would take too long to explain, so she therefore advised him,

  “You must be extremely careful of Champion, my Lord. If anything happened to him, I am sure you would never be able to replace him either in your stable or in your heart.”

  The Marquis looked at her quizzically.

  “You are quite right and I promise you I will take the greatest care.”

  He then moved away and Neisa continued with her examination of the horses.

  Finally, because she knew it was expected of her, she chose another horse – it was nowhere near Champion in quality, but still a fine animal.

  As she did so, Randolph Holme came up to her.

  “Are you putting your thousands on Mercury?” he enquired sardonically.

  “Not thousands of pounds,” replied Neisa. “But I think he is a very fine horse.”

  “I saw you admiring Champion.”

  “He is in a different category altogether and I can understand why the Marquis keeps him for himself.”

  “As he keeps very many others things,” mumbled Randolph. “He is not in the least over-generous to his poor relations, I can assure you.”

  The way he spoke was unpleasant and niggling.

  Neisa considered it extremely bad form on his part to disparage the Marquis who was, after all, their host.

  She therefore moved on without speaking.

  “Now you can have anything in the world, Miss Waverton,” he continued, as he walked beside her. “What is it you want that you will not be happy until you find it?”

  Neisa felt he had an ulterior motive in his question and she was not certain what it was.

  Lightly, because she did not like the look of him, she replied,

  “Of course, I am looking for another Champion.”

  “And if you find one?”

  “I think it would be impossible, but one can always keep on trying and I am quite certain that my father would be interested in finding one for me.”

  “And you, what might you be offering in return for achieving your greatest wish?”

  Neisa did not answer and after a moment, he said,

  “You are very beautiful. I am quite certain that any man would climb up the Himalayas to pick you a flower if that is what you desired, or dive down to the bottom of the sea to bring you back a perfect pearl.”

  Neisa felt he was even more obnoxious than when she first shook hands with him.

  She responded in a voice, which she meant to sound cold and somewhat repressive,

  “As none of these things are likely to happen, there is no point in discussing them.”

  Actually, because it came naturally to her, Neisa’s voice was soft and sweet.

  But when she looked up at Randolph, she thought that the expression in his eyes was extremely menacing.

  “What then,” he added, “can I offer you, except my deepest admiration which comes from my heart.”

  Neisa turned her head away.

  Then to her relief she saw that the Marquis was telling the grooms to lead the horses round in a circle once again.

  She moved away from Randolph, saying,

  “Oh, now we can examine the horses a little more closely.”

  She walked over to the side of the courtyard as she spoke, but Randolph joined her.

  “Even when you are doing your best to snub me,” he breathed in a voice that only she could hear, “I still find you utterly adorable – in fact irresistible!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  When the horses were finally taken away, the party went in for tea.

  It was served in the drawing room and there was a lavish provision of cakes, scones and chocolate biscuits.

  Neisa thought that it was a spread she would like to produce at home for her father.

  Carol, who had been watching the horses in a rather detached manner, was sitting a little outside the circle.

  A young gentleman who she had been told was Sir Peter Jackson joined her.

  “I can see,” he commented wryly, as he sat down, “that you are not as ecstatic over horses as your cousin.”

  “I enjoy riding very much,” replied Carol, “but I am not obsessed by it.”

  “Quite right, Miss Moore. I have another interest too and I find it difficult to think of anything else.”

  Carol thought he was talking more to himself than he was to her.

  She asked curiously,

  “What is your interest, Sir Peter?”

  “Do you really want to know about it?” he asked, “or are you just being polite?”

  “I am just curious – ” Carol responded with a smile.

  “Very well, I will tell you.”

  He moved a little nearer to Carol so that he did not have to raise his voice.

  “Two days here are going to be very trying for me, because I can hardly wait until Monday – ”

  The way he spoke to her was so intense that Carol became really interested.

  “Do tell me all about it, Sir Peter.”

  “I have invented a brand new mechanical system of controlling a ship or yacht, and it is being very carefully considered by the Admiralty at this precise moment.”

  There was a noticeable and distinct hint of triumph in his voice, but the expression in his eyes told Carol just how anxious he really was feeling.

  It was clearly a problem for him to behave normally when there was so much at stake.

  “It is very clever of you, Sir Peter, and I suppose, if the Admiralty accept, you will be looking for someone for finance.”

  It had passed through her mind to wonder if he had guessed she was not whom she pretended to be and hoped that she would assist him.

  “Certainly not,” he replied sharply. “It is my own invention and I intend to develop it myself!”

  He spoke so positively that Carol looked at him in surprise.

  “Why do you feel so strongly?” she enquired.

  “Because,” he replied, “there are so many people in this world scrounging off those who are rich and making no effort to finance anything for themselves.”

  Carol was intrigued.

  “You really intend, if the Admiralty does accept your invention, to finance it all yourself from your own resources and run a Company that is entirely yours?”

  “I am surprised you know so much about that kind of thing, but that is exactly what I propose doing.”

  “Supposing you fail?”

  “If I do, it will be my own fault and my invention cannot be as perfect as I believe it to be. So I will just have to go back to square one and start again.”

  “I think that is very brave and sensible of you!”

  Sir Peter smiled.

  “If there is one thing that I would dislike more than anything else, it would be to be financed by my wife. You must be aware that the men buzzing round your cousin are like bees around a honeypot!”

  Carol laughed.

  “That is very true, but I assure you my cousin does not encourage them.”

  “They need no encouraging,” exclaimed Sir Peter scornfully. “If they can grab some money into their hands without earning it through the sweat of their own brow, that is exactly what they desire and I despise them all for it.”

  “Equally if you are risking everything you possess on your one invention, it may, if things go wrong, cripple you for the future.”

  “If so, it will be my own loss and no one else’s. I would not have to apologise to those who have trusted and believed in me when I have lost their money.”

  As Carol found this conversation so interesting, she could not help asking him,

  “Bu
t why do you feel like this? Why are you more determined to go your own way than almost any other man would be?”

  Sir Peter was silent for a moment.

  “I suppose I like being independent and if I marry, which I have no intention of doing at the moment, I will be Master in my own house and my wife will depend on me.”

  He gave a little laugh that had no humour in it.

  “Look at all those men clustered round your cousin simply because they have been told how tremendously rich her father is. Can you imagine how any decent husband would feel when he is reminded day after day that it is her money they are spending and not his?”

  “I think that is a little unfair. I am sure my cousin would never say anything so unkind.”

  “If she did not say it, she would think it and that is something I would find completely unendurable!”

  Carol was quiet, as there did not seem any more to be said.

  Then feeling that she was sympathetic to him, Sir Peter continued talking.

  He told her how he had always been fascinated by ships when he was a little boy and how gradually the idea of a new way of directing them had come to his mind.

  “I expect you would call it my imagination, but I often feel as if someone from the past, perhaps a sailor who was never given a chance to express himself, was guiding me with my designs.”

  “I am certain that sort of thing can happen,” Carol agreed, “but I still think it very brave of you to go it alone.”

  “I shall know the best or the worst on Monday and, as you can imagine, it is hard for me at the moment to concentrate on anything else.”

  “All I can do is to wish you the very best of luck, Sir Peter,” Carol murmured quietly.

  “I do believe you mean it, Miss Moore, and if you pray, as you must do as your father is a Parson, please pray that my invention will be accepted, because I know that I have done a really good job.”

  “Of course I will pray for you, Sir Peter.”

  It was the very first time that anyone had asked her to pray for them and she was rather touched.

  Sir Peter was good-looking and at the same time he had that alert, intelligent look which she had seen in other men who were as successful as her father.

  Like him they had fought their own way from the bottom to the top of the ladder.