Page 12 of Fortune Favors the Frivolous
Chapter Six
They rode intense silence for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes, keeping the coach’s lights just in view. The terrain grew rougher as they moved deeper into Windermere’s lands, the path narrowing between dark stands of ancient oak.
When the coach slowed to navigate a particularly steep incline, Henry seized the opportunity to gain ground and Caroline had to cling to the saddle as their mount surged forward, Henry’s arm around her waist.
“When we reach them—” Henry raised his voice to compete with the thundering hoofbeats of his mount, his breath warm against her ear. “—I want you to stay back. Do you understand, Flash? These men won’t hesitate to harm a boy.”
Caroline nodded, though inwardly she bristled at the command. She had come this far for Venetia—she would not abandon her friend at the critical moment.
Through a break in the trees, she could now see the hunting lodge itself, a low stone building with light spilling from its windows. The coach had pulled up before it, and even from this distance, Caroline could make out the figure of Lord Windermere emerging from the carriage before extending an arm to help his prize out onto the gravel driveway.
Henry guided their horse off the main path, and Caroline squinted to see Venetia being ushered towards the stone steps to the hunting lodge, her posture rigid with resistance.
“Now, Miss Playford, there’s no need for such theatrics,” Lord Windermere’s voice carried through the night air. “Your aunt has given her blessing, and by tomorrow evening, you’ll be my wife and the envied mistress of one of Gloucestershire’s finest estates.”
Henry’s jaw tightened at these words. “You wait here with the horse,” he instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument.
“What are you going to do?” Caroline asked.
“I’ll go in and demand that he release her.”
Caroline screwed up her face, though he couldn’t see her in the dark. “That don’t sound a clever idea, beggin’ yer pardon for being frank.”
“And why not? What do you know about Lord Windermere that I don’t, lad?” Henry asked. “I gathered you only had the misfortune of making his acquaintance this evening.”
“Oh, I know him, all right!” Caroline burst out, adding as she warmed to her role and relishing the freedom to express her true feelings, “Begging your pardon, sir, but ’e’s naught but a pudding-headed looby, if you ask me. Strutting about the stables like ’e owns every ’orse in England, but can’t tell a fetlock from a forelock, if you take my meaning.”
Then, fearing she was getting too carried away with this deliciously forbidden slang that was so necessary to remain credible right now, she added, “Er… that’s what the other stable lads say, sir.”
“Rather strong opinions for a stable boy.” The amusement in his voice was plain, and Caroline, unable to resist, shot back, “You ain’t seen ’im ordering the grooms about, sir. All airs and graces in ’is fancy coat, but we all know ’e’s just a pudding-headed fop with more gilt than wit.” She’d been storing this one up for months, wondering if she’d ever get an opportunity to use it—much less in such a setting.
Oh, how she missed those days of pitting wits with Henry. There’d been many a time when they’d playfully sparred with words in the days following sticks as pretend swords. It occurred to her for a brief second that she could quit the pretense and reveal herself now, but realized that would only delay matters when time was of the essence.
Henry shook his head. “No, Flash, I intend to handle this like a gentleman. Windermere has got carried away, but he’ll soon be made to see reason and, if I can arrange for Miss Playford to be returned to London before daylight, no reputations will be hurt, I trust.”
Caroline shot him a dark look. Her view of the world might not really be as brutish as that of a stable lad confronting authoritative masters, but she had a fair idea that Henry’s optimism was mightily misplaced.
“Oi! He’s got her in the front room!” she whispered suddenly. “I’ll make a noise to divert them, and when the servant comes to the door, you can knock ’im down. Or you can climb through the window.”
It took a few seconds of silence for Caroline to realize he was laughing at her. “Flash, lad, that might be the way matters are conducted where you grew up, but I am a man of honor. And so is Lord Windermere. No, I shall knock on the door, wait to be admitted, and then calmly ask Miss Venetia if she wishes to remain with Lord Windermere, which is tantamount to agreeing to elope with him to Scotland, or if she wishes to come with me.” Henry calmly dismounted, clearly expecting Flash to make his own way off the back of the enormous horse.
Lord, Caroline hadn’t leaped from such a height since their tree-climbing days as children. And even then, Henry would have his arms outstretched and waiting to break her fall. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let herself slide, landing with a thud on her face when her legs buckled beneath her.
“Not very accomplished for a stable lad. No doubt you’re glad there was only me to see your clumsiness. Now—” Henry took a few steps towards the front stairs, adding in a whisper over his shoulder, “I shall settle this in a civilized fashion, gentleman to gentleman. Just wait here in the meantime. I should only be gone a few minutes. I’m quite sure Venetia will be only too delighted to come with me.”
Caroline wasn’t sure what to say. It certainly seemed a waste of breath to dissuade him. Well, she knew it was. Could Henry truly believe this could be conducted in a civilized manner?
Fearfully, she tiptoed up the steps and put her face to the window. To her surprise and relief, there was a gap between the curtains, which afforded her a clear view of the interior.
And within a second, she observed the surprise on Lord Windermere’s face as a servant announced his visitor.
She saw, too, the relief on Venetia’s face, whom she was gratified to see sitting on a chair by the fireplace, her pale countenance suddenly filled with hope.
Poor Venetia. She was a bold young woman, and Caroline had taken to her enormously when they’d met at Lady Pendleton’s Ghostly Gathering two years before, but the years after Venetia had left the ladies’ seminary to return to her aunt’s house to live had taken its toll. Aunt Pike had grown more erratic and cruel with the years, Caroline gathered, making Venetia increasingly subdued.
Mrs. Pike’s obvious plan to rid herself of Venetia by allowing the much older Lord Windermere to elope with her had confirmed that Venetia had absolutely no say in her future.
Caroline pushed her shoulders back as she was assailed by the enormity of the plan in which she was currently embroiled. Yes, her reputation was at stake, but with no one else to help Venetia, Caroline simply had to step up and help her best friend.
