Riding In the Sky Page 6
It was difficult to think of anything but the sound of the horses’ hoofs thudding over the turf.
She felt exhilarated as Skylark carried her brilliantly over every fence with at least six inches to spare.
It was when they started the third and last round that Filipa realised that this was where the race really began.
She could hear Lord Daverton shout something defiant at Mark, who made no reply but urged Hercules forward.
Filipa did the same with Skylark.
Then, as they swept over the next fence, she was aware that Lulu was using her spur and her whip.
Filipa told herself again that it was cruel.
And it would give her more satisfaction than anything else to beat her without hurting Skylark in doing so.
She had deliberately not carried a whip because she thought that it would look wrong with her Mediaeval dress.
But Lulu, like all the other Pretty Horse-Breakers, not only held one in her hand but was using it ferociously on her horse.
As they cleared the last fence but one, it was then for the first time Mark spoke to her.
“Now Filipa,” he said with an unmistakable excitement in his voice, “let’s go!”
There was quite a long run up before the last fence and their two horses leapt it simultaneously.
Filipa hardly dared to look, but she was almost certain that Lulu and Lord Daverton were ahead of them.
Then they were galloping wildly, so fast that Filipa hardly felt her headdress slip backwards and hang down her back.
She was thinking only of Skylark and urging the horse forward.
As if the animal understood, they seemed to be almost flying over the ground with wings on Skylark’s hoofs.
Then side by side they swept past the Winning Post.
While they heard the cheers of the crowd ringing out, Filipa had no idea whether they had won or not.
All she did know was that the close finish had been between themselves and Lulu and Lord Daverton.
As they galloped on down the course, slowly pulling in their horses, the other couple were riding beside them.
At last Mark was able to bring Hercules to a standstill and Filipa did the same to Skylark.
Then, as they both gasped for breath and it was difficult to come back to reality, she heard Lulu say,
“If you’ve beaten us, Mark, I swear I’ll never speak to you again!”
She turned her horse around as she spoke and rode back the way they had come towards the Winning Post.
Filipa looked at her brother.
“Did we win?” she asked.
“I think we did,” he answered, “and I have never enjoyed a race so much in all my life!”
“It was thrilling!” Filipa agreed. “And the horses are exactly as you said they would be – magnificent!”
She bent forward to pat Skylark as she spoke.
Only as she looked up did she realise that the Marquis was standing just ahead of them.
“Congratulations, Seymour!” he said.
“Did we win?” Mark asked.
“You did and it was literally by a nose.”
Then he looked at Filipa and said,
“Congratulations, Fifi. There is no need for me to tell you that you rode superbly.”
Filipa smiled at him.
As she did so, she was aware that her hair, although she had pinned it very closely to her head, was now falling over her shoulders.
Her pointed hat was hanging down her back, suspended from her neck only by the chiffon and elastic that she had thought would keep it in place.
She felt embarrassed and put up her hand to try to tidy herself.
She realised, however, that it was impossible because her hairpins were lost and there was really nothing she could do about it.
As if the Marquis could understand what she was feeling, he said,
“You look very attractive, as I am sure a great number of people have told you before and, I am certain, will tell you today.”
His compliment made Filipa feel shy.
But before she could say anything. Lulu came riding up to them and one glance at her expression told Filipa that she was very angry.
“We won!” she asserted firmly. “I was ahead of Mark and certainly ahead of that untidy piece he was riding with!”
“That is where you are wrong,” the Marquis said coldly. “Seymour and Fifi were ahead of you and Daverton when you jumped the last fence and they passed the Winning Post in the same position.”
He paused a moment and then continued,
“I had three of my retainers watching and they are unanimous in saying that you and Daverton were second.”
“Well, I don’t believe you!” Lulu pouted angrily.
Lord Daverton, however, was more sporting.
“Congratulations, Seymour,” he said to Mark and then, moving close to Filipa, he murmured,
“Now you owe me a second apology and I shall expect to be paid in full!”
She did not know what to say, so she merely looked away from him.
But, as the crowd came surging towards them, anxious to congratulate them, Mark said to Filipa so that only she could hear,
“Slip away while you have the chance. There may be somebody here who will recognise you.”
Filipa looked at him wide-eyed.
This was something she had not considered.
“Yes, of course.”
“We shall all be going back for luncheon in a minute,” he said, “so you have the excuse to tidy yourself.”
“Do we change?” Filipa enquired.
“No, I don’t think so,” Mark replied, “but hurry and, if you ride off, no one will be surprised.”
She obeyed him, moving away so quickly that she was almost out of earshot when she thought that she heard the Marquis call her name.
She reached the front door and the grooms were waiting. One of them hurried to take Skylark.
“’Ow did you get on, miss?” he enquired.
“Sir Mark and I were the winners,” Filipa replied.
She saw the astonishment in his eyes and wanted to laugh.
She was quite certain that as she was an unknown quantity and so was Mark, no one from the Marquis’s stable would have expected them to win.
She hurried upstairs to find Emily waiting for her and could not help saying with satisfaction,
“We won, Emily!”
“I don’t believe it, miss! But I’m ever so pleased!”
“I thought you would be,” Filipa said. “Now please make me tidy before the others come back. I understand that we are not to change before luncheon.”
She thought as she spoke that she had not realised that they would have luncheon in the house.
“No, miss,” Emily replied. “It’s his Lordship’s idea it should be a fancy meal, so to speak, and they’re all talkin’ about it downstairs.”
With Emily’s help Filipa arranged her hair as attractively as she could.
She put on the Mediaeval headdress so that it looked more becoming than when she had pulled it down tightly to keep it in place for the race.
By this time she could hear from the voices downstairs that the others had arrived and thought that she must go down.
Once again she almost forgot to rouge her lips, but there was no need for any on her cheeks as she was still flushed from the excitement of the race.
She knew that it was something she would never forget and what was more, Mark now had the one thousand guineas and could pay his debts.
She heard him come into the room next door and opened the communicating door between them.
“We did it, Mark!” she cried.
“I have never been so excited!” he enthused.
He walked to the washstand and added,
“Lulu is hopping mad with me.”
“It’s her fault. She could have ridden with you if she had wanted to,” Filipa said quickly.
“She says that if I cared for h
er, I would have let her win.”
“And let Lord Daverton win too after he had sneaked her away from you?”
Filipa spoke impulsively and it made her brother think again.
“Of course! That is the answer!” he said. “I will tell her that I was not racing against her but against Daverton.”
He was washing his hands as Filipa said in a low voice,
“Do you love her very much?”
For a moment Mark was still and then he said,
“It’s not a question of love as you understand it and you must not ask awkward questions.”
“Why not?”
“Because I say so!” he answered. “And the sooner I can take you home the better.”
Filipa did not say anything and after a moment he went on,
“For Heaven’s sake be careful what you say at luncheon. Everyone is curious already as to who you are and where I found you.”
“Oh, Mark, would it not be better if I went away now?”
“No, of course not! You cannot do that. They are going to drink your health and the Marquis is going to hand us the prize and all that sort of stuff. But just be careful!”
“There is no reason why they should suspect that I am anything but a good rider,” Filipa murmured, thinking it out for herself.
She thought her brother was about to contradict her and then he said,
“Come on, we have got ourselves into this mess, we have got to see it through! At least now I can pay for Hercules and all the other debts, unless Lulu tries to take it off me!”
Filipa gave a cry of horror.
“Oh, Mark, you cannot do that, you have promised me a quarter of it for the people at home!”
She thought that he was undecided and almost desperately said,
“If she wants another diamond necklace, then Lord Daverton, as he is so rich, can give her one.”
She thought that Mark’s expression altered as he said,
“Of course that is the right answer and that is what I shall say. Let Davenport pay as he can afford it!”
He put his arm around Filipa’s shoulders and added,
“I am so proud of you. No one could have ridden better than you did.”
Filipa’s eyes twinkled.
“In fact it is exactly what I said, ‘sucks to them!’ They under-estimated us.”
Mark laughed again and they went downstairs side by side.
As they did so, Filipa saw Lord Daverton in the hall looking up at them.
At least he was looking at her and she told herself again how much she disliked him.
She only hoped that he would not be near her at luncheon and she purposely walked a little more slowly.
By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lulu and Lord Daverton were halfway down the corridor that led to the dining room.
The room, designed as a Banqueting Hall, was as impressive as Filipa had expected.
There was an enormous table, which she saw was laid for thirty-one people.
It struck her as a strange number until, as they sat down, she realised that the fifteen pairs of competitors were seated side by side.
While the Marquis, who had not competed, had no partner.
Slightly to her embarrassment she found that because she and Mark were winners, she was seated on the Marquis’s right, while Lulu was on his left.
The table was decorated with gold ornaments surrounded by orchids, which Filipa knew were very rare and huge bowls of fruit added colour to the table.
With the luncheon guests all in fancy dress it looked as if it was a scene from a Playhouse.
Alternatively it might have stepped out from one of the beautifully illustrated books in the library.
As soon as they were seated, the Marquis said,
“First, before we even begin to eat, we must drink to the health of the winners of my competition and the prize that goes with it and congratulate them both on what to me was an unusually sensational victory.”
He raised his glass, saying,
“To Sir Mark Seymour, an outstanding horseman, and to Fifi, a new Pretty Horse-Breaker, and one whom none of us will forget.”
There was laughter and cheering at this.
Filipa felt embarrassed as everyone stood and toasted them.
Then, to her relief, the Marquis made a little speech about Lulu and Lord Daverton, as they were second, and they too were toasted.
After them was the third couple, who included the Queen who had apparently lost her crown at the second jump but had otherwise been well ahead of the rest of the field.
When the toasts were over, all the wine glasses were refilled and the first course was brought in on gold dishes.
There were gold plates on which to eat it and it was the first time that Filipa had ever seen such luxury.
Because she was hungry she had eaten quite a lot of what was on her plate before the Marquis beside her said,
“And now, Fifi, I hope you are going to tell me about yourself.”
There was a little pause before Filipa replied,
“I think that would be a mistake.”
The Marquis raised his eyebrows.
“Why?”
“Because, as you have already said, I am unknown, and to assuage everybody’s curiosity would be disappointing.”
The Marquis smiled.
“I am sure that would be impossible where you are concerned.”
Filipa realised that he was paying her a compliment.
At the same time he had said it so glibly that she was sure it was insincere.
She was, therefore, silent until he continued,
“I am waiting and may I say that I have never yet met a woman who did not want to talk about herself.”
“Then this will be a new experience for your Lordship,” Filipa answered. “Instead, I would like to ask you a question.”
“What is that?”
“Where do you find such magnificent horses as the one you were riding today and the one, Mark tells me, you allowed him to ride this morning?”
“Surely you know enough about horses yourself,” the Marquis answered, “and have enough of them day by day not to want to talk about them on such an occasion as this.”
“I thought our love of horses was the only reason we were here,” Filipa parried and she saw that he was amused by her quickness.
Almost seriously he said,
“Horses are a part of my life as, of course, they are a part of yours. But people also must have their place and as a man I am interested in you as a woman and I hope you can say the same for me.”
Filipa gave a little laugh.
“That is a clever way of asking the same question, and one that I do not want to answer.”
“Why not?”
“Perhaps because I like being a mystery and wish to remain unknown,” Filipa replied.
The Marquis looked at her in the strange way that he had before.
After a moment he said,
“I think, Fifi, that what you are offering me is a challenge. Shall I say that, unless the obstacle you are putting between us is completely impregnable, I shall jump it?”
“All I can say to that,” Filipa said softly, “is that perhaps, my Lord, for the first time in your life you are over-optimistic.”
She evaded his questions in a way that he found amusing.
She knew, although he did not say so, he also found it intriguing, until almost plaintively Lulu interrupted,
“I’m being neglected and I think that is very unkind when you know how much I wanted, my dear magnificent Marquis, to win your race.”
She was speaking in an alluring voice, bending so close to the Marquis that her lips were only a short distance from his.
Filipa turned quickly towards Mark only to find him deep in conversation with the Pretty Horse-Breaker on his other side.
She was a most attractive young woman who was flirting with him with the same expertise with which she rode.
Fil
ipa therefore contented herself with looking at the other people at the table.
Then she realised that the Marquis was once again addressing her.
“I hope, Fifi,” he said, “that you and Seymour realise that you are staying here with me tonight.”
Filipa looked at him in consternation.
“Staying?” she repeated. “Oh, no, my Lord, we are staying with – with – with friends.”
“Well, that is impossible!” the Marquis said. “Now you are the winners we are having a special party tonight and I have already arranged a lot of amusements, which I am sure you will find as entertaining as anything you could see in London.”
“I am – sorry, but it is – not possible.”
“Why?”
She realised that he had a strange way of asking a question by making it a monosyllable, which seemed sharp, authoritative and demanded an instant answer.
“We – we made other – arrangements,” Filipa faltered.
“They must just be unmade,” the Marquis replied. “I will speak to Seymour, but you must be aware that now you are the winners everything has changed and, as the two most important guests of my party, you can hardly disappear after the last race.”
“That was – what we – had planned to – do,” Filipa protested.
The Marquis leant forward and called out to Mark,
“Seymour, I want to speak to you.”
Obviously with some reluctance Mark tore himself away from the Pretty Horse-Breaker at his side.
“What is it, my Lord?” he asked a little anxiously.
“Fifi tells me that you intend to leave after the last race and that you are staying somewhere else in the County. You must be aware that, since you are my guests of honour, that is now impossible.”
Mark did not answer and the Marquis continued,
“What is more, which I am sure will interest you, I have been asked if I will allow some of the public to enter for the races tomorrow.”
He made a gesture and went on,
“I cannot very well refuse and I know that they will be disappointed if you are not present.”
As he spoke, Filipa was aware that it was a compliment that Mark would not fail to appreciate.
She saw that he did by the light in his eyes and the faint flush on his cheeks.
To be held in such esteem by the Marquis was almost the height of his ambition.