CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Whilst Lady Chalford viewed the expedition as a social opportunity, and Amelia secretly looked forward to viewing Lord Carbrooke far more than any colt in the paddock, Elizabeth found herself genuinely excited at the prospect of the day for its own sake.
It was the first event of the Season that had her hastening Ditcham to complete those finishing touches without which that redoubtable individual would have felt her mistress unfit to be seen abroad.
Elizabeth had surprised her maid by selecting an ensemble that, for once, was not designed to make her fade into the background.
Her gown was a pale old gold, with several flounces about the hem, worn with a claret-coloured spencer, which showed off her colouring to perfection, and a hat with broad ribbons tied in a jaunty bow beneath her left ear.
The dress had not been worn for several Seasons, but Elizabeth merrily declared that any lingering odour of lavender bags would be blown away by the breeze upon Epsom Downs.
‘Oh no, Ditcham, I will be sure to trail the ends in the dust the moment I get involved with the racing, and the weather looks ideal, neither too cold nor too hot.’
‘Indeed, miss, though I would suggest you take a parasol to protect your face from any glare.’
‘Oh.’ Elizabeth giggled. ‘And there was me thinking in terms of it making it less likely for the horses to sweat up.’
‘“Sweat up”! Now, miss, don’t you go talking stable talk in front of everyone, I beg of you.
’ Ditcham shook her head, and pursed her lips, but knew she might as well hold her breath.
If anything was going to animate her mistress, it was horses, and she would forget the ladylike veil of mild disinterest in seconds.
She only hoped she did not bounce up and down with hoydenish excitement in the final furlong.
It was Elizabeth who was ready first, and inclined to look down from the drawing-room window for the first sign of Sir Lucius’s carriage party.
Her only disappointment was seeing Lord Godmanchester, seated beside Sir Lucius in his phaeton, but no sign of Lady Godmanchester.
This was explained by his lordship, when he made his bow to Lady Chalford and offered her his hand to assist her into the barouche.
‘I regret, ma’am, that my wife has to send her apologies.
She finds herself a trifle indisposed this morning, and could not face the long drive or exertion, but she begs me to tell you to avail yourself of her barouche, that her absence must not be a cause for concern, and bids me pass this note to Miss Ashling.
’ With which he drew a letter from within his 238coat and handed it, smiling, to Elizabeth.
‘She would not have you enjoy your day the less, I promise, but it can wait until we are upon our way, for I doubt Lucius wishes to keep the horses waiting.’
‘Indeed not. Thank you, my lord.’
At that moment Sir Lucius himself made his bow. He had been in some discussion with Lady Micheldever over the seating within the two carriages, since he had utilised the barouche that rarely left his stables unless his mother was in Town.
‘Lady Chalford, ladies, your servant. I was wondering if Miss Amelia would care to travel to Epsom with Lady Micheldever and Miss Wingate, and Lord Nuneaton, and Lord Carbrooke could travel in this barouche with you and Miss Ashling? Then, upon the return, we could mix the parties up once more, since it is quite a drive, and conversing merely with those whom one spends much of the time would be less entertaining.’
This idea found instant favour with Lady Chalford, although Amelia was clearly disappointed.
She cast a glance at Lord Carbrooke, who was being given advice upon some subject or other by Lord Nuneaton himself.
They stood together, and the comparison did Lord Nuneaton no favours.
He was half a head shorter than the youthful Viscount, and his features were showing the first signs of becoming fleshy, although he was certainly not corpulent, and Lady Chalford looked upon him as a perfectly good figure of a man.
Lady Chalford was, however, nearer forty-five than forty, not seventeen.
Only the thought that she might yet spend the return journey in the more appealing 239company enabled Amelia to smile sweetly, and acquiesce without complaint.
Whilst the seating arrangements of the carriages were put into effect, Sir Lucius took the opportunity of exchanging a few words with Elizabeth.
He had never seen her look so enchanting, but wisely forbore telling her so.
Instead, he smiled down at her and asked if she had been teaching her young cousin what to look out for in a likely winner.
‘Amelia?’ She laughed softly. ‘I fear I would be wasting my breath if I did, Sir Lucius. Amelia will pick the horse with the prettiest features or the most entertaining name.’ Elizabeth’s tone was confidential, her normal aloofness entirely forgotten.
‘And my aunt will make her decision upon how well she knows, likes or dislikes the owners.’
‘Remind me, then, to let Nuneaton or Carbrooke lay any bets upon their behalf, for fear I should lose all my credibility.’
Their eyes met, they understood each other, and a small, secret bond seemed forged between them.
He handed her up into the carriage, still with the smile upon his lips, and only Lord Godmanchester calling him away broke the spell.
Elizabeth was conscious of feeling bizarrely happy, which she resolutely put down purely to the excitement of a day at the races, despite the whisper in her heart that murmured that Sir Lucius himself had quite a lot to do with it.
The journey itself was entertaining, at least for Elizabeth. First of all she read the note from her friend. 240
Dearest Elizabeth,
Such a feeble creature as I am, I fear that this morning the contemplation of a long carriage ride to Epsom and back is too much for my disordered constitution.
I send my beloved lord to act for both of us and enjoy what promises to be an exciting day.
I beg you, do not think of me laid upon my sofa, ailing!
Seriously, I do hope Godmanchester has his mind taken from my ‘ailment’, because his worry is actually worrying ME.
I am sorry I cannot be with you, but I am sure you will have a lovely day, and I do hope you return positively weighed down with your winnings. If you do, you may purchase a yard of that lace trimming we saw and I considered for a baby gown.
Your Affectionate Friend,
Helen
She noted, with approval, how Lord Carbrooke did not let his eyes forever stray to the following carriage, and how his manner towards Lady Chalford was pitched to a nicety, being both respectful and charming.
With Elizabeth, he let his guard drop very slightly, and there was a twinkle in his eye that she thought quite infectious.
He was enjoyable company, and Elizabeth began to see just what attracted Amelia, with her own optimistic nature, to him.
For her own part, Elizabeth only once looked past the coachman upon the box and regarded the two gentlemen in the phaeton.
Sir Lucius generally kept his eyes upon the road, but at that 241moment his face was turned towards his friend and he was laughing.
Elizabeth chastised herself for wishing she might also know the jest. For all she knew it might be something entirely unsuited to a lady’s ears, and yet there was that kernel of curiosity.
They arrived in good time, though there were already a good number of people and vehicles seeking good positions.
Before the racing commenced, Sir Lucius regaled his guests with champagne and delicacies from a hamper that he had brought in the phaeton.
He then established that, after a brief promenade to indicate their presence, Lady Chalford and Lady Micheldever would prefer to watch events from the barouche, or more accurately, spend the afternoon in exchanging gossip and the latest on dits.
He shepherded his party to the ring and watched as Nuneaton, as he later commented to Lord Godmanchester, ‘made a cake of himself’, and tried to explain the finer points of a winning racehorse to Amelia Ashling, whilst selecting an animal as an example that was surely cow-hocked.
He saw Elizabeth Ashling bite her lip, and at that moment turn, so that their eyes met.
Hers were full of unholy amusement. He had seen her transformed from an elegant icicle in the ballroom into an intelligent and vibrant young woman when upon a horse, but never had he before seen her so plainly and simply happy.
He realised that whether his selections won or lost, whether the races were tightly fought classics or disappointing five-length romps, today was a success because he had made Elizabeth Ashling happy.
Hard upon that thought came the one that said that wanting to make 242her happy every day had become his sole aim in his life.
It took him rather unawares, though he knew that it had been lingering, unacknowledged until now.
Lord Nuneaton was now trying to inform Elizabeth Ashling’s decision, and she was politely refusing his advice.
‘I think, Amelia, that I would prefer to place my shillings upon the bay, Pedagogue.’ Elizabeth avoided responding directly to Lord Nuneaton. ‘His dam is Teacher’s Pet, it says in the race card, and so he ought to be a good stayer.’
Lord Nuneaton appeared vaguely shocked.
Lady Chalford grimaced, and laughed, rather mirthlessly. ‘My lord, I fear my niece might have you think she peruses the form books.’
Elizabeth coloured slightly. ‘No indeed, I do not. It was merely a comment based upon some knowledge. I saw Teacher’s Pet win at Goodwood the last season she raced.’
‘I would gladly place your bet for you, Miss Ashling,’ Sir Lucius interjected, with a bow, ‘though I myself might give the edge today to Waterboatman, in view of the ground.’