“You betch’er boots I am,” the jockey said boastfully. “Can’t nobody come near to Tod Sloan.”
“Except perhaps for the Reiff brothers,” Lillie remarked in an offhand tone, “who seem to be
Tod Sloan’s boyish cheeks grew red and his grin faded. “You don’t need to be afraid of anythin’, Lil. That last time out on Reliable, that was a fluke.” He thought for a moment, scowling; then his voice rose and his tone became belligerent. “Say, you ain’t tryin’ to tell me you don’t want me to ride for you no more, are you? ’Cause if that’s what you want, I c’n oblige you, for certain. I got plenty o’ offers. Why, Lord Beresford tells me that the Prince hisself wants me up. Think o’ that, Lil! The Prince hisself!”
Lillie gave a pretty little pout and put her hand on the jockey’s sleeve. “Of course I want you to keep on riding for me, you silly boy. It’s just that…” She glanced significantly at the captain.
The fat man stepped forward, moving as daintily as a girl. He placed his arm across the jockey’s slender shoulders. “I’m sure our lovely Lillie didn’t speak to offend, old chap. Just to remind you that we have competitors, and that she’s counting on you to bring home a winner, no matter what you might have to do to get it.” He raised both eyebrows and opened his eyes wide. “But that’s the business we’re in, isn’t it? We all need a challenge now and then, don’t we?”
The jockey’s “I s’pose” was sulky, but he brightened at Lillie’s smile. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
“I know you’ll ride as hard as ever you can for me at Haydock Park on Saturday, dear Tod, and not let those other American jockeys push you around. I’m so sorry I won’t be able to see the race, but I’ll look forward to hearing that you and Reliable have taken a first.” She turned to Doyle. “I leave it to you, Captain, to suggest a winning strategy for the race. And of course, to see that my wagers are placed at the best odds, and that Tod has a handsome present for his work.”
While all this was going on, Kate had wandered over to gaze into the fish pond and discovered it stocked with large goldfish, some in quite striking colors. Standing off to one side, unobserved, she caught the captain’s surreptitious wink at Lillie. While she did not understand all that had been said, she felt quite sure that Lillie and the captain had been putting on a performance for the benefit of the jockey, who was so engrossed in himself that he failed to notice how he was being goaded into some sort of action by two people who were far more shrewd than he. In Kate’s opinion, Todhunter Sloan might be a brilliant jockey, but he was not a very bright man. And Lillie Langtry was extraordinarily skilled at all sorts of performances.
The men took their leave, the door to the dining room opened, and the ladies went in to luncheon, an elaborate affair that included a julienne soup, salmon cutlets, jellied chicken, a garnished tongue, green peas, almond pudding, and a fruit ice, each served in its turn by Williams the butler and a handsomely liveried footman.
“Now, my dear Beryl,” Lillie said confidingly, “while we eat, we shall have a great talk. You can ask me anything you want. There is no need to take notes just now, you can do that later. You are free to use everything I say in your magazine article-although I should like to read it before it is printed.” She tossed her head carelessly. “The press is such a useful tool, but one must exert some small control over it, don’t you agree?”
Afterward, Kate wondered that Lillie could have managed to eat a single bite, and there was certainly no opportunity for her to ask any questions. The actress talked incessantly, punctuating her conversation with practiced gestures and expressive glances from her smoky eyes, which seemed sometimes blue, sometimes gray. She described at great length the amazing success of her most recent theatrical tour of the United States; the fifty thousand pounds she had realized from the sale of her yacht, White Lady, a gift from an admirer named Baird who had died, tragically, before they could enjoy it together; the exploits of her favorite horse, Merman, which she loved above all other things on this earth; her new little house on the Isle of Jersey, which she called Merman Cottage and where Hugo de Bathe often visited her. As she talked, her tone became more confiding and her gestures and expression more intimate, as if she were telling everything about her life. Kate noticed, however, that she failed to mention two other sensational events which the London newspapers had reported extensively: her California divorce, obtained just two years before; and the mysterious death of her former husband, Mr. Edward Langtry.
At the mention of Hugo de Bathe, Lillie paused for a sip of wine and Kate seized the opportunity to speak. “I enjoyed meeting Lord de Bathe,” she said, pretending to more warmth than she felt. “He’s a charming man. He seems to care for you very much.”
“Oh, yes, doesn’t he?” Lillie agreed, smiling languidly over the rim of her glass. “Suggie is a dear, dear boy. I expect we shall be married before the end of summer.” She laughed dryly. “It won’t at all please his father, of course. The old man has threatened to cut Suggie off without a shilling if he marries me.” She added, with a cavalier shrug, “But money matters little to true lovers, don’t you agree? Love is certainly the most important thing in our lives. As my dear friend Oscar Wilde says, ‘They do not sin at all, who sin for love.’ ”
“But Oscar Wilde has also said,” Kate replied thoughtfully, “that ‘one should always be in love. That is the reason one should never marry.’ ”
Lillie looked vexed. “Oscar is nothing if not inconsistent,” she said. She pushed away her empty dessert dish and fastened her eyes on her guest’s face. Her glance seemed to lay claim to Kate’s most precious secrets. “Now that I’ve told you everything there is to know about me,
Kate opened her mouth to speak, but Lillie went on.
“I know that you’re an American, that your novels and stories are amazingly popular, and that you and Lord Sheridan don’t much like to go about in Society. But I’m sure there’s more-much more, hidden away inside your heart.”
“I’m afraid that you’ve already learned all there is to know about me,” Kate said with a small smile. “My life is an open book.”
Lillie threw back her head and laughed gaily. “An open book!” she exclaimed, much amused. “How very clever! But of course, it is your literary work that I most want to talk about. I can’t tell you how excited I am at the prospect of staging ‘The Duchess.’ I know the production will have an enormous dramatic appeal, especially if you agree to the few changes I have in mind. I’m absolutely dying to-”
But at that moment, Williams appeared with a folded note on a silver salver. Lillie read it with a displeased frown and threw it back on the tray, letting out an irritated puff of breath.
“It seems that I have an unexpected caller, Beryl, and after that, I fear I must attend to some business. You and I shall have to continue our conversation at tea.” The butler pulled back Lillie’s chair as she stood. “Meanwhile, I’m sure you would like to look at the house and grounds so that you can tell your readers all about Regal Lodge in your article. Please do ask Williams if you find yourself in need of anything.”
It was some little time later, while Kate was exploring the rose garden within earshot of the drawing-room windows, that she overheard Lillie Langtry’s angry interchange with her caller.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Newmarket, the home of the Jockey Club, was also home to dozens of racing stables. Each trainer ruled his stable with an iron hand, guarding the horses placed in his yard as if they were the Crown jewels, for it was their success on the Turf which assured his own success. The trainer might not be so prominent a figure as the jockey, but he and his methods had a far greater and more lasting influence on the individual horse, and on racing itself.
