Amelia's Intrigue (Regency Idyll Book 1) Page 15

  “D-Do?”

  “Yes, lad,” Bear asked, “do. What is it ye do there? Do ye work in the stables, fer instance?”

  “S-Sometimes. I t-take care of my M-Mouse. And, and sometimes I h-help in the house and the g-garden.”

  “Hi takes care of his mouse,” Coffee groaned only loud enough for Bear to hear.

  Bear glanced meaningfully at him, then turned back to Geordan. “Does yer brother live at Rutlidge House, too, Geordie?”

  “Of c-course he d-does.”

  “Of course,” Bear nodded. “He's th'ead groom no doubt.”

  “N-No, Bear, Tony's n-not a groom. He t-takes care of all my b-business and, and m-manages my estates.”

  Coffee's fine gray eyes looked pleadingly upward at the grey skies. Bear saw him and chuckled. “Go play some more, Geordie,” he said, smiling. “If ye ask, p'rhaps Jesse'll take ye wi' him to Needle Point to hold th' gentlemen's ’orses.”

  “Is that one of the ch-chores, Bear?”

  “Well, ’tis one o' the ways we git some blunt these days; that ’tis. Most of the gen'lemen will give ye a penny er two jist fer holdin' their horses till they return. Davey and Abby ain't old enuf, yet, but I ’spect ye’ll do a fine job, won't ye?”

  “Y-Yes,” agreed the earl, nodding. “I sh-shall ask J-Jesse right n-now.”

  Bear and Coffee watched as the earl rejoined the group of children. Seeing Jesse nod happily and the two of them stroll off down the street together, both men sighed.

  ANTHONY ANDREW TALBOT with Miss Mapleton, at her father's insistence, riding beside him, drove his curricle slowly down one street and up another. Her sharp green eyes watched one side of the street, while Tony's tiger studied the opposite side, leaving Talbot free to concentrate on manoeuvring through the heavy traffic. “I cannot imagine what you were about, Mr. Talbot, to allow him to leave the house in the middle of the night. And after you have kept him in leading-strings all these years.”

  “I have not kept him in leading-strings, Miss Mapleton,” Tony grumbled.

  “No? What do you call it when you will not even trust him to my father's care that he might go to meet Mr Kean?”

  “I had no idea that your father had gone with him, Miss Mapleton. Had either of them asked, I would have consented.”

  “And is it your place to consent, sir?”

  “Yes, Miss Mapleton, it is. Someone must be responsible for Geordan. It is not as if he knew anything at all about London, or what could happen to him at the hands of ruthless people. He is an innocent, Miss Mapleton. He trusts everyone.”

  “Obviously, Mr. Talbot, he does not trust you, or he would have told you of his plan and not waited to sneak out of the house in the middle of the night.”

  “Miss Mapleton,” Talbot growled, his hand itching to box the lady's ears. “I do not require your advice on how to handle my brother. You will allow that I have a good deal more experience with that particular gentleman than you.”

  “Of course, Mr. Talbot, and that is why he is lost in London and not one of us has the least idea where to find him.”

  Tony bit back the retort he longed to make and instead stared straight before him, directing every bit of his attention to his cattle. An increasingly stressful silence rose between them as the curricle progressed slowly from Brook Street back to Grosvenor Square, over to Hyde Park, down Piccadilly. In front of Hatchard's Book Shop, Mr. Brummell waved Talbot over to the curb.

  “I say, Talbot,” he drawled lazily, giving an impression of extreme boredom which the intense sparkle in his eyes belied, “it has come to my ear that you've lost your brother. Is it true?”

  “Yes. George, it's true. Do not go passing it around, will you? If it gets to the wrong ears, I may never recover the brat.”

  “Of course not, Tony. Wouldn't do anything to put, Geordan in danger. Thing is, Bristol has asked me to tell you that he has ridden out to Aston-Croft Grove to have a look about; there was no sign of the lad at Trevithick's.”

  “Thank you, George. I appreciate it.”

  “Have you tried Tattersall's? Seems to me I recall something about a pony he became enamoured of. Bought it for him, didn't you? But you ain't given it to him yet, so perhaps he has gone there to see about purchasing it himself.”

  “By Jove, Brummell, that's a da-deuced brilliant idea!” Talbot exclaimed, his dark eyes lightening a bit. “I had forgotten all about that pony.”

  “Yes, well, I should have a look there if I were you. Your brother is singularly independent for all that his mind is not quite like the rest of ours. I shall keep my eyes peeled for him as well. Good day, Miss Mapleton,” the Beau drawled with a very polite bow. “Good luck, Talbot,” he added, and with a curt nod to Tony, strolled languidly off up the street.

  “Tattersall's,” Mr. Talbot murmured to himself. “Miss Mapleton, I shall have to take you home. The Beau may have hit on the exact spot, but I cannot take you with me there.”

  “Why not, Mr. Talbot?”

  “Because it is not a place for a lady, Miss Mapleton. You know that as well as I. It would be the height of impropriety for you to be seen at such a place.”

  “I will tell you what, Mr. Talbot,” Miss Mapleton said very quietly, her green eyes glaring at him. “I am very fond of your brother and I have set out with you to find him; I do not care a fig for propriety presently. If he has gone to Tattersall's and cannot find his way home, he will be most upset, and I will not allow you to upset him more by ranging a peal over him the moment you set eyes upon him. Drive on, sir. You shall not be rid of me so easily.”

  “I have not the least intention of ringing a peal over him, Miss Mapleton.”

  “Oh, have you not? And neither did you have that intention last night when you stormed about and made him cry, did you? Well, did you, Mr. Talbot?”

  “Oh, blast,” grumbled Talbot, pulling the curricle into traffic. “If you do not regard the fact that your reputation will be in shreds, Miss Mapleton, why should I? But I am not the ogre you seem to think, and I assure you, ma’am, that all Geordan will get from me is a thankful hug and a word about running off on his own. I cannot conceive why you are so intent upon protecting my brother from me! Are you all about in your head?”

  Miss Mapleton stared at the handsome profile beside her “You bought him a pony?” she asked, belatedly rather amazed.

  “It is for his birthday. I could see he felt sorry for the wretched thing, for not one bid was offered on it. It was to be a surprise, but if he has gone to see about it, I suppose it is a surprise no longer. Why do you stare at me?” Talbot asked, turning to meet her gaze. “Surely a man may buy his brother a present. Or do you find my motives suspect in that as well?”

  Amelia shook her head slowly from side to side, sending her little green velvet bonnet with one chaste white feather slightly askew. “We played with otters and met a fawn at Aston-Croft,” she murmured, her cheeks gaining a pretty pink blush. “I do understand that Geordie might wish to have a pony no one else wanted. You are truly worried about his safety, are you not, Mr. Talbot?”

  “Yes, Miss Mapleton, I am. Good lord, do you think I care nothing for Geordan?”

  “I-I did not think you cared for anyone, Mr. Talbot, but yourself.”

  Talbot stared down at her, his mouth open but no words pouring forth. “Not... not care for anyone?” he stammered at last.

  “Well, you have never acted as though you did,” Miss Mapleton informed him. “At least, I never saw you act so.”

  “By thunder, Miss Mapleton you are the most audacious, judgmental, exasperating female I have ever met. You know not the least thing about me and yet you make the most outrageous assumptions. I suppose, madam, that you thought me involved in some heinous plot to gain Geordan's inheritance for myself as well. I am amazed you do not suspect me of having had my brother spirited out of the house by some ruffians and murdered so that I might inherit the title and all free and clear.”

  “Oh!” gasped Miss Mapleton.

&n
bsp; “Aha!” exclaimed Mr. Talbot, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I beat you to that particular scenario, did I? Your father was right. You are the most suspicious child, always finding something mysterious in the most ordinary occurrences.”

  “My father never said such a thing to you.”

  “Well, yes, he did,” said Talbot with a good deal less vehemence. “He seemed to think that you and I held that particular ability in common.” He laughed at the thought of it, and his eyes sparkled down at her with an impishness that she had never before seen. “I, it seems, have been guilty of like suspicions in regard to your father. I mean, I have suspected him of some ulterior motives in having come to know Geordan so well, while he and I were never more than nodding acquaintances.”

  “My father knows Lord Rutlidge quite well,” Miss Mapleton murmured, one gloved finger tapping lightly against her chin. “I assumed he knew you equally as well, but he does not?”

  “No, Miss Mapleton. We have only recently become friends.”

  “But if he dealt so often with your father, why—”

  “Do not!” Talbot ordered, laughing. “You sound exactly as I did! I am afraid we must both of us become writers of romance novels.” He pulled his curricle to a stop beside the front entrance to Tattersall's and climbed down, letting the reins lie upon the box as his tiger ran to the horses' heads. “Please, Miss Mapleton, do me the honour of remaining here while I check to see if anyone has seen Geord. I will not be long, I promise you.” Amelia, who knew very well that her mother would be most upset should she set foot in Tattersall's, nodded meekly. “Very well, Mr. Talbot. But do not hurry. I should not want you to miss him or anyone who may have seen him.”

  “Thank you, Miss Mapleton. I will not hurry so much as that.”

  Miss Mapleton watched as he strolled briskly toward the entrance of that jealously guarded male sanctuary of betting and horse auctions. She had never noticed before how straight and broad his shoulders were set nor the air of self-confidence that surrounded his every movement. She had thought him from the first an odious, sneering, boastful rogue. And then a mysteriously plotting, dominating villain out to steal the earl's fortune and run the earl's life. Now, for the very first time, she began to see him as a slightly older gentleman, hemmed in by responsibilities which needed to be assumed and decisions which had to be made, and she felt a quiet empathy for him. “He is as much edged about with worries as I was,” she murmured to herself, “when both Kit and David were ill and Father gone off to Vienna.”

  Her gaze followed him until he disappeared from sight, and then her attention was caught by a ruckus in the street at the far end of the block. Voices shouted; men scattered in all directions; a horse whinnied loudly and angrily, and hooves flashed in the sunlight. “Mouse!” she exclaimed, recognizing immediately that snorting, flail-ing black beast. “William, stand away,” she called to Tal-bot's tiger, and seizing the reins, she urged Talbot's pair of high-stepping chestnuts out into the road and set them toward the uproar at a spanking pace. William swung up behind the curricle as she passed, barely regaining his perch.

  Amelia, whose father and brothers had taught her well the handling of a team, drove Talbot's curricle fearlessly into the midst of the uproar and brought them to a halt almost directly before the wildly flailing Mouse. William jumped from his perch and dived for the black's dangling reins while Amelia strove to keep the chestnuts from bolting in fear at the stallion's rage.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MOUSE, infuriated by Copeland's high-handedness, Danvers’s cringing, whiny voice, and his short stay in Cap’n Sutter’s stables, where he had kicked one stall completely to pieces, pulverized the door on another stall, and bitten two hostlers, had reached the height of rebellion when he found himself suddenly surrounded by eager and interested buyers of horseflesh on their way to Tattersall's. Struggling powerfully against Copeland's torturous hold, he had wrenched that man's arm from its socket with an incredible rearing twist of his neck and head. One hoof had come crashing down into Copeland's chest as the man went stumbling to the ground. The other had ripped a deep gouge across the man's shoulder. Danvers, already pale and in pain, had turned on his heel and run for cover. Those who had gathered around for a closer look at the magnificent steed had lunged for safety as well.

  Miss Mapleton, seeing William stumble, the stallion's reins in hand and the big black rearing wildly above him, drove the chestnuts clean off the road, jumped from the curricle, and tossed the reins to a gentleman in a tall beaver hat and a striped morning coat. “Hold them,” she ordered loudly, already dashing away toward Mouse.

  William, having had the dreadful advantage of dealing with the high-strung stallion for more than three weeks now, recovered himself and clung to the reins, attempting to stay between the unconscious Copeland and Mouse.

  He gave ground only enough to avoid the gnashing teeth and flashing hooves. His voice called the horse's name with as much calm as he could muster. When Miss Mapleton dashed up beside him, he was steeling himself to move an open palm in the horse’s direction.

  “No not, William,” she said. “He will lop it off with one bite.” Instead, she moved with a confidence she could not feel toward the animal. “Mouse, sir,” she commanded, in as deep a voice as she could muster, “cease this nonsense immediately!” The big stallion, his flattened ears twitching between her voice and William’s, stopped his rearing and danced uneasily, pawing at the cobbles.

  Miss Mapleton, taking a deep breath, stretched upward and laid a hand flat against the trembling withers. She smoothed her way along one shoulder and onto the stallion's sweating neck. “Enough, Mouse. Geordie will be ashamed that you behave so very badly.” Her hand moved upward again toward the ear that had perked forward at the sound of “Mouse” upon her lips. “Yes, my dear.” she whispered, “William and I know you are a Mouse, and we shall not let any of these gentlemen near you.”

  Talbot's tiger, sweating profusely himself, moved very slowly to lay the palm of his hand against the stallion's nose. It quivered the moment he touched it, and the snorting stopped and a series of small sniffs began. William took the hand away and fished in the pocket of his waistcoat. With a grateful sigh he produced three lumps of sugar which he held out toward Mouse, speaking to the animal with cajoling tenderness. As the great head reached toward him, lips quivering, to take the treats, William handed the reins into Amelia's outstretched hand. “I shall fetch th’boss, ’mediately, if ye kin handle ’im miss.”

  “Yes, William,” nodded Amelia. “Please do so. But do not run until you are much farther away, or you will start him up again.”

  “I know, miss,” William replied with some exasperation. “I ain't spent the las' three weeks wi' the terror fer nothin’.”

  By the time Talbot came running up the street, leaving William far behind him, Miss Mapleton and Mouse were both standing docilely in the middle of the street flanked on all sides, but at a great distance, by a group of amazed gentlemen.”

  “ Amelia,” Talbot called, slowing as he approached so as not to startle the horse, “are you all right?”

  “We are fine now,” she answered, patting the silky black neck. “Except that he will not move one way or t'other as long as this gentleman lies here.”

  Talbot's eyes took in the unconscious Copeland and then travelled back to Miss Mapleton. “It is because Mouse wishes to complete the business,” he murmured and then bent to check the man over. He looked up again at the gentlemen surrounding them and, spying a face he recognized, called out: “I say, Ludlow, will you see if there is a doctor about?”

  “Certainly, Talbot. Dare one of us approach close enough to help you carry the bloke onto the verge here?”

  Talbot shook his head. “I had best do it myself.” Whereupon he lifted Copeland in his arms as if the man were a featherweight and carried him to the grass at the side of the street near the curricle Amelia had abandoned. Mr. Ludlow started away in search of a doctor, and a few of the r
emaining gentlemen walked slowly and carefully past Amelia and Mouse, to Tony's side.

  “Had another bloke with him before the horse got out of hand,” someone commented. “Anybody see him now?”

  “Ran off down the street,” another voice offered. “Had his arm in a sling. This one going to live?”

  “There were two of them?” Tony asked, looking around to check that Miss Mapleton was still all right. He was amazed to see her leading Mouse easily into the shade of a nearby tree.

  “Aye,” a third voice answered. “And neither looked as though they had the blunt to own that black. Stole him, most likely.”

  Mr. Ludlow. returning then with a tall, lean, elderly gentleman, knelt down beside Tony. “Found Dr. Weldon just going inside,” he said, as the doctor lowered himself to the ground and began to examine the still-senseless Copeland. “Talbot? Ain't that Rutlidge's horse? I thought as much the moment I saw him.”

  Tony nodded. watching the doctor uneasily. “He's not about to stick his spoon in the wall, is he?” he asked finally.

  Weldon met the serious brown eyes with equally serious grey ones. “We must get him inside somewhere. There is not much I can do for him here. Hit his head on the cobbles when he went down. At least that is what Mr. Ludlow tells me. The shoulder is broken, but it will mend easily if he survives the other.”

  “I got a man wi' a hay cart ’ere, sir,” William announced, advancing toward the men kneeling over Copeland.

  Talbot stood up and met William before he reached the group. “They say there were two men, William. Did you see the other?”

  “Yes, sir. But I don't see ’im now. Run off, he did. ’Tis my guess he ain't comin' back. I reckoned ye might wanta take that bloke home wi' us, if ye catch my meanin'.”

  “You think he knows what has happened to his lordship?”

  “Well, sir, I'd think it likely, him havin' Mouse an' all.”

  “Yes, I think so as well, William. We'll load him into the wagon, and you'll ride up front with the driver to show him the way. I will see to Dr. Weldon, Miss Mapleton, and Mouse.” William, nodding, went to consult with the cart driver he had effectively captured. Talbot, glancing again to check on Miss Mapleton, saw that she still held Mouse’s reins and appeared to be having a long and pleasant conversation with that monster. He smiled in spite of himself as he watched the big black nuzzle at the feather on her bonnet, sending that green velvet confection even more askew than it had been previously.