I’m going to give him a run to settle him down.”
“Dabir seems a strange name for a horse,” Deirdre said before Teddy had a chance to speak.
“It’s Arabic for teacher.” The horse danced a few steps sideways, and Shermont reined him in. “So named because he does his best to teach me patience.” He smiled at Deirdre before turning back to Teddy. “We’re racing out to that promontory. I call it a mile and a half. Five quid each to the winner. Are you in?”
“No, thank you. Messenger seems content to keep gentler company, as am I.”
The lieutenants maneuvered their horses forward and begged the women for a favor to carry for luck. Mina giggled and gave Parker a small pink feather from the decoration on her straw bonnet. He tucked it in his hatband.
“I like your gray,” Deirdre said as she tied a blue ribbon around Whitby’s wrist.
They all looked to Beatrix who shook her head. Obviously, she didn’t want to give her red ribbons to anyone other than Teddy, and he wasn’t racing.
“Come on. It’s just for fun. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Beatrix shook her head again. Mina and Deirdre frowned at her unsporting attitude.
“What about you,” Mina said to Eleanor. “Are you going to participate in the spirit of the race?”
Not wanting to be a spoilsport like Beatrix, Eleanor removed a yellow daisy from her bonnet.
“Will she give it to Alanbrooke or Shermont? Or will the handsome newcomer Major Rockingham swoop in to take the honors?” Mina said in a hushed, excited tone to enhance the suspense.
“Don’t be silly,” Deirdre said. “She just met Rockingham this morning.”
Everyone’s attention was riveted on Eleanor. She hesitated. What would Jane Austen do? Eleanor smiled and passed her token to Huxley, wishing him good luck.
With a wink and a cocky grin at the younger men, he stuck the flower in the buttonhole on the lapel of his bottle-green coat. “The filly and I will endeavor to do you proud.”
The men lined up alongside the road. Huxley threw his hat in the air, and when it hit the ground, they all took off. The women cheered their favorites. Mina begged the driver to stop the carriage so they could see the entire race. John Coachman was having no part of any foolishness and kept the horses to a steady, sedate pace. Too soon a turn in the road blocked their view.
Mina sat back against the squabs with a pout.
“I can’t believe you passed up a chance to race your pride and joy,” Deirdre said to her brother. “Thirty pounds sterling to the winner. Isn’t that what you call easy money?”
“I could take the military horses with ease, but if Shermont’s stallion decided to make a race, it might be another story. And Huxley is right keen on his filly. She’s not much to look at, but he swears she’s fast. He’s thinking about taking her on the racing circuit.”
“I can’t believe Messenger is so calm,” Mina said. “Is he ill?”
Teddy shook his head. “I had the grooms exercise him hard early this morning so he would behave in front of our guests.”
Eleanor looked off into the distance. Not having been born to privilege, she couldn’t help but wonder what time the servants had gotten up to prepare everything for this carefree party.
“Ha’penny for your thoughts,” Teddy said.
She doubted he would understand. “The view is beautiful.”
“Yes, it is,” he agreed.
But when she glanced back, he wasn’t looking at the countryside. She turned away. “What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a tumble of rocks on top of the highest hill in the neighborhood.
“That’s where we’re going—the ruins of an abbey dating back to the twelfth century. It’s part of the estate, but to get there by road we have to go around the long way.”
“Is that a cottage in the woods?” she asked, squinting.
“Yes. An old gypsy woman lives there. The lord of the manor granted her use of the cottage for as long as she lived in payment for saving his child’s life with a magic potion. That child was my great-great-grandfather.”
“Impossible.”
“If we had time, we could stop. I’d introduce you.”
Eleanor shook her head, but she had to smile.
The carriages traveled across a bridge over a wide and swift stream. Several hundred yards upstream a mill wheel sloshed and creaked as it turned the huge stones inside.
Eleanor had never seen such a sight other than in books. Entranced, she said, “The sound of the water is almost musical.”
“For good reason,” Teddy said. “You, of course, have heard of the famous opera singer Carmelita Cadenza. No? Well, I suppose it was before our time. Apparently, Grandfather was besotted by the beautiful Carmelita. She was the toast of London, but she was terribly homesick. So she decided to return to her native Italy and the humble millhouse where she’d been born. Grandfather could not bear to see her go, so he built this for her. She retired from the stage and lived here happily for several years.”
“How romantic,” Beatrix said with a sigh.
“Carmelita loved her little mill. She tended her garden and did all the tasks a mill owner does, but she never gave up singing. She would sing as she went about her chores. Even the peasants would stop on the bridge to listen to her arias. Then suddenly, one day the wheel was still and the air silent. Poor Carmelita was dead. Unbeknownst to all but her maid, the opera singer had suffered from a rare and fatal disease.
“Grandfather was beside himself with grief, and after the funeral he returned here with an ax to take the mill apart piece by piece. The music of the water stopped him. It was as if he heard her singing. He let the mill stand, though he could never bring himself to come back again. They say she still haunts the mill she loved, waiting for Grandfather to return. Several have reported seeing her ghost in the old garden, and countless people have heard her singing.”
All four women pulled handkerchiefs out of reticules and sleeves to dab at their eyes. After much sniffling, Deirdre demanded, “No more sad stories.”
Teddy twisted around in his saddle and pointed to a group of buildings on another hill. “That farm once belonged to our family, but it was lost by the third Lord Digby to the current owner’s ancestor in a card game. The story goes that Farmer Hasselrood coveted that particular piece of land so much he put up his beautiful eldest daughter against the deed. While the gamblers argued over exact terms and boundaries, word of the unusual bet traveled through the household staff like a greased pig on fair day and reached the ears of the third Lady Digby. She stormed into the card room as play was about to resume. With her staring daggers at him, Digby folded an ace-king combo, a surefire winning hand in vingt-et-un. The farm belongs to the Hasselroods to this day.”
“I thought that was the Smith’s dairy?” Mina said.
Teddy hesitated only a moment before he laid one hand over his heart. “I cannot believe Hasselrood sold the family farm. I am shocked, astounded, and … and …”
“Lying,” Eleanor supplied.
Beatrix sucked in her breath. “How dare you call him a liar?”
Deirdre and Mina only laughed.
“You are caught fair and square,” Deirdre said to Teddy. She turned to Beatrix and Eleanor. “It’s a game we used to play as children to pass the time on long carriage rides and keep Mina entertained. Of course, Teddy was always the best at it.”
“It took me years to figure it out,” Mina said, sticking out her bottom lip.
“Well, I think the stories were wonderful,” Beatrix said. She spared Eleanor a superior glance before turning an ingratiating smile to Teddy. “I would never question your veracity.”
“How did you know I was lying?” Teddy asked Eleanor. “Too far-fetched?”
For some reason, she didn’t want to reveal his hesitation had tipped her off. “I’m not sure what it was. Just a feeling.”
“My favorite story involved great-grandmother and the Sultan of Arabee.” But Deirdre didn’t have time to elaborate because the other gentlemen of the party rode up.
“Did you win? Did you win?” Mina asked Parker. She practically bounced out of her seat with excitement.
Sadly, the lieutenant shook his head. Whitby and Rockingham also indicated the negative. Huxley grinned and
