Chapter Twenty-Five
When he was made aware of the offer of a morning ride, Carter had declined to accompany them, saying he had no wish to endure their former classmate’s sneers and scornful looks. However, he was friend enough to drive Gilbert to the park to meet Kirkpatrick.
Now, Gilbert and Kirkpatrick cantered across some fields in Green Park.
The morning was cool, but the cloudless sky foretold a warm late May day ahead.
When he first arrived to meet Kirkpatrick at Green Park, Gilbert jokingly asked if he was about to be challenged to a duel, as he was aware that the location was popular for gentlemen to settle scores.
Kirkpatrick had only laughed and smoothly replied that affairs of honor were fought at dawn, of course, and at nine o’clock, it was far too late for such an activity.
They rode mostly in silence for a time, then Kirkpatrick asked, “How goes your wooing of Miss Wells, Kendall?”
Gilbert did not wish to give away his thoughts, but then reminded himself that Kirkpatrick had firmly expressed no wish to pursue Diana himself, so he replied, “Well enough, I believe. After the upcoming ball at Lady Denton’s, I intend to call on her aunt to ask permission to court her.
I feel confident of being accepted. Then, after she and I can spend more time together, it should not be long before I can make her an offer. My happiness shall be complete.”
“And you believe she would accept an offer from… you?”
Gilbert shot his school mate a sharp glance at the slight derisive tone in Kirkpatrick’s voice.
“And why should she not?”
Kirkpatrick chuckled a bit before replying, “Well, you are the son of a gentleman, of course, but only the second son. You shall not inherit the family estate. What do you believe you bring to the match?”
“I have an inheritance from my mother, for one,” Gilbert said, testily. “But even without that, I have education, manners, a good family background, and an abiding love for the lady. Should that not count for something?”
Kirkpatrick gave a snort. “Love is fine, I suppose,” he said loftily. “However, when one is destined to become a duke as I am, a match should be made based on more than mere feelings. It should be arranged so that it brings all that it can to the union.”
Gilbert stared in astonishment. “Are you saying Miss Wells’s background, not to mention her large dowry, would not make her a good enough match for you?”
“Oh, she might do, I suppose, I grant you that. I am not speaking of my own feelings, however. I can likely do far better. I only mean to warn you, Kendall, that you may find your suit rejected. Try not to take it personally, is all I say.”
Gilbert gritted his teeth and decided not to make any counter argument. Everyone would see what a fine match they were when he pressed his suit, he felt certain.
The two had already ridden around the meadow once, and now, Kirkpatrick turned to Gilbert and said, “We are here so early that the park is mostly empty. The fashionable crowd will not arrive until later. Therefore, I think we might push ourselves beyond a slow canter, eh? What do you say to a race? Let us ride back around and past the reservoir, then back to the entry.”
“You may have the advantage on me, as you are familiar with your horse, while I have not yet ridden this one at such a speed. Still, he seems to be well mannered. Very well,” Gilbert nodded, “let us see who can win.” He turned his horse around to bring it up even with Kirkpatrick’s.
“On three,” Kirkpatrick said. “One… two… three!” He kicked his horse hard on the last word and sprinted ahead of Gilbert, who then took his crop and urged his mount on.
The two tore down the meadow past the oval reservoir at the northwest corner, then headed back to Tyburn pool in the center, racing to the park’s entry.
Gilbert had come nearly neck and neck to Kirkpatrick’s left side, when the other turned slightly right and headed towards a low hedge.
Realizing Kirkpatrick intended to jump, Gilbert followed, but he was unsure of what lay beyond the greenery.
Still, his friend would not intend to jump without knowing it to be safe, Gilbert reasoned, preparing himself.
Just before they reached the hedge, Kirkpatrick jerked the reins back hard and to the right, forcing his horse to stop.
Too late for him to do the same, Gilbert shot past Kirkpatrick and attempted to prepare himself for the jump.
The horse was willing, but on the other side of the hedge was a steep slope and as the horse stumbled in his landing, Gilbert found himself flying off, hitting hard on the grassy ground.
He lay, unable to move for a time, panting.
He slowly took stock of his condition. The breath had been knocked out of him, and, at first, he thought he was not too badly off.
But as he tried to lift himself from his graceless position on the ground, a pain shot through his shoulder and he cried out, falling back.
He looked up to see Kirkpatrick arrive, then dismount his horse, a grin on his face.
“Kendall, old fellow—what a pity you took a fall. Are you quite well?”
Gilbert gritted his teeth as he said, “I thought you were going to jump the hedge. I only followed you because I thought you knew what you were doing.”
Kirkpatrick shrugged as he walked over. “I misjudged the height and thought better of it. Good on you for attempting it, though, clearly, it was not a sound idea. Fortunately, the horse was not injured. My father would be very displeased if you had caused him any harm.”
“As is turns out, I have sustained the only injury. My shoulder has been damaged,” Gilbert said, his blue eyes narrowing in fury. Had Kirkpatrick done this deliberately?
“Let me help you up.” Kirkpatrick reached out and Gilbert extended the arm on the good side of his now aching body, stifling a cry of pain as he was pulled off the ground.
Kirkpatrick frowned. “We should get you home. I’m sure a hot bath and a shot of whiskey will set everything to right. Can you remount the steed?”
Gilbert shook his head. “Without both shoulders in working order, I do not think I should attempt it.”
“Well, we shall have to walk out then. It is not far,” Kirkpatrick said. He grabbed the reins of his horse and Gilbert’s, and the two slowly made their way out of Green Park. Kirkpatrick whistled a tune as they walked, ignoring Gilbert, who slowly followed.
As they exited the park, Gilbert felt his anger rising. But the pain in his shoulder, and, now that he was walking, in one hip as well, overrode his urge to further discuss Kirkpatrick’s act. He only wished to get back to Carter’s as soon as possible.
When Dorothea received word from Carter that Gilbert had been injured, she immediately canceled her plans for the day and went to see her brother. The surgeon was just finishing up as she was admitted to Gilbert’s room. She began peppering him with questions about Gilbert’s condition.
“Your brother dislocated his collarbone, Lady Gillingham,” the surgeon said. “I have reset it and it will mend quickly, I am certain. He has multiple bruises on his hip and leg, as well, from his tumble, but he will be fine. Do not worry excessively.”
“Pray do not instruct me as to the governance of my emotions when it comes to my own family, sir,” Dorothea replied tartly. “I shall have my own physician examine him as soon as I may. Thank you for your attentions.”
The man bowed his head and departed, and Dorothea moved to the sickbed. Gilbert lay with his eyes closed, but she could see from his firmly pressed lips that he was not asleep.
“Is it very bad, Gilbert?” she asked. “Did the surgeon administer something for the pain?”
“Yes, paregoric, although its effects have not yet taken hold. Dorothea, I have not felt such pain since that time I fell out of the oak tree at home,” he replied, opening his eyes.
“I cannot believe this has happened to me. What a fool I was to agree to race Kirkpatrick. It was all going fine. When he headed towards the hedge to jump it, I did, as well. At the last minute, he turned his horse away, but it was too late for me. The next thing I know I was flying through the air.”
“Insufferable! Do you think he did this deliberately?” Dorothea asked.
“He claims not to have done so.”
A snort was heard from Carter, seated across the room.
“Despite his words, I have no doubt Kirkpatrick did this with malice and forethought, Lady Gillingham. He wants to ensure that Gilbert is not able to continue his suit of Miss Wells. I saw how angry he was when she chose your brother for the first dance at the Landrys’ party. ”
“Kirkpatrick has no interest in Miss Wells,” Gilbert protested. “He has told me so repeatedly.”
“I would not be so certain, Gilbert. I also noticed his peeved countenance when Miss Wells chose you to dance first,” said Dorothea.
“No interest in the prettiest and wealthiest young lady of the Season?” Carter asked. “I find that very hard to believe.”
“Of course,” Dorothea mused, “this act of his—if intentional—could be because of that rude remark I made about his father’s mistress. I am indeed very sorry if I have been the cause of it. Well. He is no friend, that much is certain.”
Gilbert shrugged, regretting it at once when pain shot through his shoulder, and gritting his teeth as he tried to smother a cry of pain. “My Season is ruined. I cannot dance. Indeed, I cannot even attend any gatherings for the foreseeable future. Just my luck.”
“You must come to stay at the Gillingham house, Gilbert,” Dorothea said, decisively. “I wish to have Dr. Mendel see you for himself, and I have far more staff there to take care of you.”
“It is no trouble for your brother to stay here, Lady Gillingham,” Carter said.
“You are so kind to offer, Mr. Milbourn, but you will wish to continue your enjoyment of the Season, and my poor brother will be left quite alone here for a great deal of the time. It will be for the best that he come to our home, at least for now. You are certainly welcome to come visit him as often as you wish. Indeed, I am certain Gilbert will greatly rely on the pleasure of your companionship during his recovery.”
“I certainly shall, Carter,” Gilbert said. “And, pray, plead my case to Miss Wells when you see her at the upcoming ball and apologize for my inability to dance with her. Perhaps she and her aunt will even come visit me, at least, once I am out of my sickroom and able to receive guests downstairs.”
The decision finalized, Dorothea departed to arrange for her brother’s transfer to her home.