Page 117 of The Meaning of Love
Felix joined them, also looking concerned. “If he’s in some way involved in what’s been going on, perhaps he won’t show.”
Julian murmured, “Missing the Ride would be the equivalent of waving a big red flag with ‘I’m guilty’ blazoned on it. Not even Gordon would be so stupid.”
Felix waggled his head. “Possibly.”
“Trust me,” Julian said. “He’ll be here.”
“He needs to get moving, then,” Damian observed. “We’ve less than twenty minutes before Herne’s appearance.”
They were all about to move back into the milling throng when, through a gap in the crowd, Melissa saw a flashy phaeton-and-four—the carriage obviously new with a gleaming bright-yellow body—come bowling up the drive. She focused on the driver’s face and clutched Julian’s arm. “Here’s Gordon now, in what looks like a new phaeton.”
“What?” Damian stepped up onto the castle steps and stared over the heads. “Lord above,” he breathed, reverence in his tone. “Not only a new phaeton but four new high-steppers as well.”
Felix flicked a frowning look at Julian. “Where the devil did he get the money?”
Others had noticed the approaching carriage and turned to look. Murmurs, snide comments, as well as exclamations of appreciation flowed through the crowd, but as the equipage was forced to halt to one side of the drive, unable to go farther because of the crowd, most returned to their conversations and largely ignored the newcomers.
Julian, with Melissa on his arm and flanked by Felix and Damian, strode around the crowd. It took effort to keep his genial host’s smile in place. Felix had asked the most pertinent question. Where had Gordon got the money for the carriage, let alone the four horses, plus, Julian noted, a showy hunter trailing on a rein behind? As far as any of them knew, Gordon was perennially pressed for cash.
Sitting beside Gordon on the high seat of the phaeton was Captain Findlay-Wright. His presence didn’t surprise anyone; over the past years, he’d often come up for the Ride, usually accompanying Gordon, who, after all, lived in the same house.
After exchanging nods with the occupants of the phaeton, Felix and Damian fell to examining the horses and carriage, while smiling, Julian and Melissa welcomed the captain and Gordon.
Findlay-Wright climbed down from the high seat and bowed over Melissa’s hand. “It’s always a pleasure to return to Carsington, Countess.” Smiling, he nodded affably to Julian. “Carsely, well met.” He glanced at the crowd. “It should be an excellent day. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Indeed,” Julian replied.
Hockey came up, and Findlay-Wright indicated which of the two horses trailing the carriage was whose. Naturally, the showy mount was Gordon’s, and the steadier, solid-looking hunter was the captain’s mount. The saddles had been placed in the phaeton’s boot, and Hockey and a groom hoisted them out and led the horses aside to be saddled.
Gordon, meanwhile, had climbed down on the phaeton’s other side and was proudly showing off the finer points of his new equipage to Damian and Felix.
After glancing that way, Findlay-Wright half bowed to Julian and Melissa and followed Hockey.
With Julian, Melissa rounded the carriage in time to hear Gordon proudly say, “I would have been up yesterday, but we took the trip in easy stages to baby my beauties.” He patted the glossy hide of the nearest horse.
Their family group was screened from the crowd by the body of the carriage.
Damian noted that, looked at Gordon, and bluntly stated, “What I want to know is where you got the blunt for all of this.” He waved at the phaeton-and-four.
Gordon grinned and, with one finger, tapped the side of his nose. “Being a part of this family, even if distant from the title, has its benefits.”
Felix and Damian blinked, and their expressions blanked, while Julian’s expression became utterly impassive. Melissa managed not to react, but Gordon seemed oblivious to the rigidity that had gripped his cousins. Beneath her hand on his sleeve, Julian’s muscles had tensed until they felt like unforgiving steel.
Far from noticing the impact his words had had on his relatives, Gordon was looking over his horses’ backs at the assembled crowd. “Heigh-ho! It looks like it’s almost time to get started. Some are mounting. Truth to tell, I’m relieved we got here in time.”
He glanced at Julian and Melissa, then smiling genially, looked at Damian and Felix; by then, they’d all fixed mild expressions on their faces. “I take it we’ll all be riding. Excellent! It’ll be another grand ride, I’m sure. I’d best go and check on my new hunter—it’s the first time I’ll be out on him.” He winked at Damian. “I’ll leave you in the dust.”
Damian managed a scoffing noise, but it sounded half choked.
Melissa, Julian, Felix, and Damian watched Gordon walk to where Hockey had got Gordon’s new hunter—a pale dappled-gray gelding—saddled.
Julian shook his head. “Am I the only one unable to decide what to make of any of that?”
“No,” Felix said. “He’s obviously involved in some way, but he seems entirely unaware of what he’s involved in.”
“Is he a willing participant in X’s schemes, or is he an utterly unwitting pawn?” Damian snorted. “This is Gordon—I know which one I favor.”
“He wasn’t at all surprised to see us hale and whole,” Melissa mused. “If he knew anything of the attacks, wouldn’t he at least have been looking to see if we’d been harmed in any way?”
