A Steeplechase For Love Read online

  Then she knew it was because Lady Basset, while being very rich, was not a young girl and it had therefore never occurred to her that she could be pursuing the Duke.

  ‘I must be very stupid,’ she then told herself, ‘but if she is a widow and wants to marry again, who could be a more prestigious and desirable husband than a Duke?’

  Because she had never dealt with such a problem before, it took her a long time to consider it and then to answer her own questions about it.

  She stood in the window gazing out into the garden and as she did so, she saw people coming out onto the lawn beneath her.

  The three gentlemen she had caught a glimpse of as they had arrived last night were there and Lady Basset in a very attractive gown was walking beside the Duke.

  She was talking animatedly as they moved towards the fountain.

  Cosnet had eventually managed to make the ancient fountain work after it had remained silent and empty ever since Helsa could remember.

  The gentlemen bent over the carved marble basin and looked down into the water which filled it, as if they expected to see goldfish swimming there.

  As they did so Lady Basset and the Duke, who had their backs to Helsa’s window, stopped too.

  The Duke threw back his head to look up at the water that was streaming out of the top of the fountain and then Helsa saw Lady Basset move a little closer to him.

  She put her hand very softly but caressingly on his arm.

  Lady Basset was indeed pursuing the Duke in the way that his valet had told her many women pursued him.

  What was more, Helsa thought, she now knew the real reason why Lady Basset had rented The Hall and was pretending it was part of her own inheritance.

  It was an effort to impress the Duke and make him think that her blood was the equal of his.

  Of course she wanted to marry him.

  She wanted to become a Duchess.

  It all came clearly into Helsa’s mind.

  At the same time she thought how foolish she had been not to realise it before and because Lady Basset was so rich, she had been thinking of her as being old.

  It had never struck her for one moment that all this scheming and searching for a superb ancestral background was designed to make an impression.

  Not on the Social world in general, but on one man – the Duke – who could make her his wife and a Duchess.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Helsa was woken abruptly by the maid coming in to pull back her curtains.

  She turned over and stretched as the maid piped up,

  “There be complete pandemonium downstairs, Mr. Robinson’ll tell you about it, miss.”

  She was gone before Helsa could reply.

  She jumped out of bed quickly wondering just what could have happened.

  It was very important that today of all days things should run smoothly when they ran the steeplechase.

  She was dressed and had brushed her hair when she heard Robinson come into the nursery with her breakfast and she guessed that he had something urgent to tell her.

  She walked from her bedroom into the nursery and asked,

  “What has happened, Robinson?”

  “A real mess it is, Miss Helsa. It’s something that would never have happened in his Lordship’s time.”

  “What would not have happened, Robinson?” “They’ve just found that some trees’ve fallen down in the strong wind and made the course dangerous so that the steeplechase has to be postponed.”

  “Postponed! But it was all arranged!”

  “It were,” Robinson agreed. “But the man who’s running it says he won’t be responsible till the trees have been removed. Although the men be working at it now, it won’t be cleared before late this evening.”

  “But surely they can ride past that particular bit of the course – ” Robinson shook his head.

  “It’d be a mistake for them to do it the wrong way and have an accident, especially with His Grace’s horses.”

  This was true and Helsa knew it would be a disaster if either of them was injured.

  “So what is happening, Robinson?” she asked.

  “The Steeplechase’ll now take place on Monday as tomorrow’s Sunday – it’d shock the village if they raced on the Sabbath!”

  That was absolutely right as Helsa knew and her father would certainly disapprove.

  She gave a little sigh.

  “Well, if it is on Monday, it should be all right for everyone, providing the guests do not have engagements elsewhere.”

  She was wondering as she spoke if the Duke would stay on or take his magnificent horses away.

  Almost as if Robinson was reading her thoughts he added,

  “Her Ladyship first made quite sure His Grace’ll stay and all the other gentlemen have agreed they’ll stay on too.”

  Helsa gave a sigh of relief.

  Then Robinson went on,

  “What’s happening now is the man who be running the steeplechase – I can’t remember his name – is going to put up fancy fences in the paddock and they are going to have a jumping competition for everyone in the house.”

  Helsa smiled.

  “That is better than nothing and it will keep them busy.”

  “That’s what I thinks too. Since the steeplechase is postponed, no guests from outside the house-party will be coming for luncheon today. But they’ll all be coming on Monday.”

  He left the room without saying anything more.

  Helsa smiled to herself as she sat down at the table.

  She well knew that Robinson and the older servants hated any alterations to their plans and that there would not be so many people for luncheon as expected would surely upset the cook.

  She felt thankful that the Duke was staying on, as if he had left, Lady Basset might have terminated her tenancy abruptly and that would have been disastrous.

  Helsa could not help herself being worried about the money that had been spent on servants, food and the steeplechase. If Lady Basset then refused to pay the bills, it would be exceedingly embarrassing if not disastrous for her father and all their plans.

  ‘Whoever they work for,’ she reflected, ‘Papa still thinks they are ‘our people’ and it is our duty to help and protect them.’

  However, according to Robinson everything would still be alright.

  The Duke would stay and that meant all the other riders would wait for the steeplechase on Monday.

  And by that time Lady Basset might well have the gentleman all this palaver was all about in her clutches!

  *

  The gentleman in question – the Duke – was at this moment talking to the organiser of the steeplechase whose name was Watson.

  “It be no use, Your Grace,” he was saying, “I can’t give the ‘off’ to any man who might be injured, apart from a horse having to be destroyed, because I made a mistake in allowing the race to take place.”

  “No, I do agree that would be wrong,” replied the Duke. “Equally it means everything being postponed until Monday and it would be far better if you could have made the course avoid that particularly dangerous place.”

  “You know what them woods be like, Your Grace. They’ve been neglected for years and there be boughs of trees apart from trunks fallen all over the place.”

  The Duke would have spoken, but Watson went on,

  “I tried to follow the path through the woods which I were told has been used for generations, but no one has cleared up after the gales when they comes in the winter.”

  “I can understand, Watson, but at the same time it is most irritating not only for those who are staying here at The Hall, but for those who have brought their horses from other parts of the County.”

  Watson smiled.

  “Your Grace’ll see that they’ll all turn up alright on Monday. Her Ladyship’s giving out a number of first-rate prizes and when a steeplechase be paved with gold, so to speak, everyone wants to take part in it!”

  The Duke chuckled.

&
nbsp; “I’m sure that’s true, Watson. So we must all wait until Monday.”

  “What I’ve been a-thinking, Your Grace,” Watson added, “is that you and the gentlemen staying at The Hall could still have a good afternoon’s sport. I’ve arranged for jumps to be put up in the paddock where they used to be years ago.”

  The Duke was now listening attentively to Watson and he then continued,

  “It’ll be a bit like a Racecourse for all them young gentlemen and if I get a dozen or so jumps up by lunchtime you can try your horses out on them. The ground’s clear and firm enough for there to be no accidents.”

  “That is a very good idea and something I will look forward to. One of my horses I have not yet tried out on jumps. But if, as you say, you will have some challenging jumps for us in the paddock, it will make the afternoon most worthwhile.”

  “I’ll certainly do my best, Your Grace.” Watson walked away smiling.

  He was actually thinking that this alteration to the programme ought to mean many more gold sovereigns in his pocket than he had already counted on.

  *

  A little later Helsa was sent for by Lady Basset and she found her rather surprisingly in a cheerful mood.

  At first she could not understand why Lady Basset was not upset at the change of plan and then once again Helsa told herself she was being foolish.

  Lady Basset had no wish for the Duke to leave The Hall too soon and now he would stay two extra days until the steeplechase had been run.

  Her Ladyship chose one of her prettiest gowns from Paris to wear and she left her bedroom smiling and in a better temper than she had been ever since she had arrived.

  Helsa was so relieved she was not in a rage about the change in plan and hurried down to the kitchen.

  “Here we be preparin’ for at least thirty or more for luncheon,” Mrs. Cosnet wailed, “and now I hears they’re to be turned away to come back on Monday. The food won’t last that long, I’ll be tellin’ you!”

  “I would not be too sure it will not be eaten today,” replied Helsa. “I heard that the jumps were only to be for those staying on in the house, but I have a feeling when the others arrive for the steeplechase, it will be difficult for her Ladyship to send them away. You will find, I am sure, that they will come into luncheon.”

  No one apparently had thought of this eventuality and Mrs. Cosnet was placated and she was smiling by the time Helsa left the kitchen.

  Her next visit was to Mr. Martin.

  “Nothing ever goes smoothly,” he moaned, “but I am surprised that her Ladyship is not as angry as I thought she was going to be.”

  Helsa glanced at the door to make sure that it was closed.

  “I have the idea,” she confided, “that her Ladyship is delighted because it means that the Duke will stay with her at The Hall longer than she might have expected.”

  Mr. Martin stared at her and then his eyes twinkled.

  “I think you’re right, Miss Helsa. It had not entered my head, but now it seems highly probable.”

  “Think it out, Mr. Martin, but I don’t know what you are going to do with them all on Sunday.”

  “I am quite certain none of them will want to go to Church,” he mused, “but one just never knows and I am slowly getting used to surprises when I least expect them!”

  “So am I, Mr. Martin, but I am quite determined to watch the steeplechase whatever happens, whether it takes place today, Monday or even Sunday.”

  “Your father would have a stroke if it happened on Sunday. It is such a pity you are not taking part in it, Miss Helsa. It would cause a sensation if the steeplechase was won by a woman!”

  “That is why I would love to win it, but frankly I know that Golden Arrow is now too old.”

  She left Mr. Martin and went back upstairs, wishing that she could go to the stables and visit the horses again.

  But she knew that was where it was likely most of the gentlemen would go after breakfast.

  She was not mistaken.

  *

  The Duke was the first to rise from the breakfast table and say he was going to see his stallions.

  “I also want to take a good look at these jumps,” he murmured. “It would be a mistake for them to be too high – and disappointing if they are too low.”

  The others agreed with the Duke and then professed how much they looked forward to a jumping competition in the afternoon as there was no steeplechase.

  “How can we work it out?” one of them demanded. “Three times – or should it be four – over the jumps. And we must time it rather than risk several of us trying to take a jump at the same time.”

  “You are quite right,” the Duke came in. “We must definitely time it. I will go and talk to that man Watson, who is organising the steeplechase and the jumps and see what he suggests.”

  “He is supposed to be extremely good at this sort of thing,” one of the other guests remarked. “I did ride in one he arranged in the North, but the weather was ghastly and it was not as enjoyable as it could have been.”

  “In other words, you did not win,” one of the other guests chortled.

  “I think I distinguished myself by coming in last!” was the reply.

  The Duke had already left the dining room and was on his way to the stables.

  He looked first at his two horses. The best one had already been well brushed down and bridled by his groom before the news came that the steeplechase was called off.

  “We’re that disappointed, Your Grace, and it’s no use sayin’ we’re not,” the groom told him. “Masterpiece were all ready to carry Your Grace to the winnin’ post!”

  “Well, I am sure he will win on Monday,” the Duke replied. “In the meantime, Brown, they are going to have some jumps erected in the paddock and I would like you to have a good look at them and make sure they are not too high. It is always a mistake to overtax a horse, especially when it is new to its rider.”

  Brown nodded to show that he agreed.

  “They were settin’ up some of the jumps yesterday afternoon and they looked well done to me, though I didn’t take too much interest in ’em at the time.”

  “Yesterday afternoon?” the Duke quizzed. “But I understood it was only decided this morning after the wind last night that the steeplechase was to be postponed and the jumps put up instead.”

  “Yes, that’s right, Your Grace, that was what I were told.” The Duke thought it somewhat strange.

  Since the steeplechase was to be such an important event, surely the local grooms should have been attending to the course rather than putting up jumps in the paddock.

  However, it was undoubtedly an ‘ill wind that blew nobody any good’.

  As the Duke inspected his two stallions, he thought it would be quite amusing to spend the afternoon jumping.

  *

  He had concentrated on his horses ever since he had come into the title and had been able to extend his stables and purchase the very best horseflesh.

  He was determined not only to own the best horses to ride but also to race.

  His father had a racing stable, but he had not been particularly interested in it and when the older horses died or were put out to grass, he did not replace them.

  The Duke was running two horses at Royal Ascot this year, both were exceptionally fine thoroughbreds and although he had paid a great deal for them, it had certainly not been a waste of money.

  In point of fact the Duke took so much interest in horses that his family teased him, complaining that as they could not induce him into marring a young and pretty girl, he would have to marry a horse!

  “I am sure I would be far happier with a horse than with most of the women you have tried to force me up the aisle with,” he volunteered the last time one of his aunts was pleading with him, as they all were, to produce a son and heir.

  “You will be twenty-eight at your next birthday, Victor,” she had scolded him, “and I do think it is time you settled down and had a family.”


  “I cannot understand, Aunt Sylvia, why you must always be in such a hurry,” the Duke had answered her. “Every man is entitled to ‘sow his wild oats’.”

  His aunt pursed her lips.

  “But you have been sowing yours for too long,” she retorted, “and as far as I can make out you spend more on horses than on any woman, however beautiful she might be!”

  “The young women my family press on me might well be pretty, but after I have been with them for even five minutes I know I should be bored stiff with them in five months, let alone years!”

  “Oh really, Victor, this is too ridiculous,” his aunt exclaimed. “Of course the young girls are not particularly intelligent when they are debutantes, but they grow older and wiser as the years pass. It is your job as a husband to teach them not only about love but about the matters that interest you.”

  “Very well then, it’s horses,” he persisted. “But the last girl you tried to pair me off with had hands that would have destroyed a carthorse!”

  His aunt sighed.

  “It was a big mistake to bring that particular girl to your notice,” she agreed. “But she did come from a very good family and her blood is as blue as ours, and you must admit that is so important.”

  “It may be very important to you, Aunt Sylvia, but personally I find anyone who cannot ride, who has never read a book and who is not at all interested in architecture or history, extremely boring, however blue her blood.”

  His aunt had held up her hands in despair.

  “Honestly, Victor, you expect too much. Of course young girls are like that, but they grow into those attractive and amusing married women with whom I understand you continually associate – ”

  “Not continually, but there are certainly one or two young ladies in the Beau Monde I have found extremely amusing. However, to be perfectly honest, Aunt Sylvia, I have no wish to take the place of their husbands, who often find themselves sadly neglected.”

  “Nonsense, Victor. They may have other interests than their wives. What I am trying to point out to you is that those wives were once boring debutantes. The years changed them or rather their husbands did and that is just what you will have to do yourself sooner or later.”

  “The mere idea of it depresses me and I can tell you one thing, Aunt Sylvia, I have no intention at any time of being pushed into an ‘arranged marriage’. So you and my other relations can just stop thinking it possible.”