Barbara Cartland - 273. The Elusive Earl

Steadily he rode towards the bridge and saw as he drew near to it that there was nobody there.

‘It must have been a hoax,’ the Earl told himself wryly.

Nevertheless, as he was curious to know why anyone should take the trouble to play such a trick on him, he pulled the stallion to a standstill and stood gazing at the long silver stretch of water in front of him

The horse fidgeted a little and the Earl had just made up his mind to leave and continue with his ride when he saw coming towards him through the trees a woman riding at a pace which almost equalled his own a little while earlier.

She was wearing a green riding habit and the veil that encircled her hat flew out behind her like a flag.

He stood waiting as she drew nearer and he noticed with an experienced eye that she was riding an extremely well-bred animal.

Then to his astonishment, as the horse came nearer, seeming to gallop straight at him, the woman threw herself from the saddle to fall to the ground directly in front of him.

The Earl was so surprised that for a moment he could only stare at her. Then hastily, as she appeared to be lying still, he dismounted, tied his stallion’s reins with an expert hand to a post on the side of the bridge and went to her side.

As he reached her, he saw that her eyes were closed, but as he bent down and put out his hands, she opened them.

“Are you the Earl of Helstone?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “Are you all right?”

“Of course I am all right,” she answered him in a surprisingly firm tone. “But I have something to tell you and we shall have to be quick about it.”

“What is it?” the Earl asked.

She had obviously suffered no damage and was in no pain but she continued to lie on the ground, although now she supported herself on one elbow and her head was raised.

She was very attractive, he thought, with fair hair with a touch of red in it showing under the brim of her dark hat, a very white skin and large grey-green eyes that seemed almost to fill her small face.

She was young, the Earl realised, and yet her voice had a decisive note in it that he did not associate with a young girl.

“You have been asked,” she then began, “to stay with Lady Chevington for the Epsom Races?”

“I have,” the Earl answered.

“You must refuse! Write and make any excuse you like, but on no account accept the invitation.”

“But why?” the Earl asked in bewilderment. “And why should it concern you?”

The girl was just about to answer him when there was the sound of thudding hoofs and a groom came hurrying towards them.

He was middle-aged and, when he saw his Mistress lying on the ground, he exclaimed in consternation,

“What’s ’appened to you, Miss Calista? ’Ave you ’urt yourself?”

“No, I am all right, Jenkins,” the girl replied. “Go and catch Centaur.”

“Now, Miss Calista, you knows I won’t be able to do that – ” the man started.

The Earl looked up at him sharply.

“You heard what the lady said. Catch her horse and bring it here.”

The groom recognised the voice of authority at once and touched his cap.

“Very good, sir.”

He spurred the horse he was riding and moved away.

The girl raised herself until she was in a sitting position. Then to the Earl’s astonishment she puckered her lips together and emitted a long low whistle to be followed by a shorter one.

The horse she had been riding immediately raised his head from where, a little way to the left of them, he was placidly eating the grass.

The groom had nearly reached him, but at his approach the horse then turned, trotting away for a dozen yards to put down his head again. The groom followed him only for the same thing to happen.

The Earl looked down at the girl beside him,

“You taught him to behave like that?” he said. “And he did not throw you, you threw yourself off!”

“Of course Centaur would never throw me,” the girl answered, “but I wanted to talk to you and, if Jenkins had thought that we had met by arrangement, he would have told Mama.”

“Who is your mother?” the Earl enquired.

“Lady Chevington!”

He looked at her in perplexity.

“Then why are you telling me I am not to accept your mother’s invitation to Epsom?”

“Because,” the girl answered, “if you come to stay, she will make you marry me!”

For a moment the Earl thought that she must be joking, but as he looked into her eyes, he realised that there was a serious expression in them and there was little doubt that she meant what she had just said.

There was a faint smile on his lips as he parried,

“I assure you that I can look after myself. If I do stay in your house for the Races, I will make no offer for your hand if that is what is worrying you.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” Calista replied to him sharply. “You don’t understand what I am trying to say. You will not have the chance of offering for me nor I of refusing you, which I assure you I should. You will be forced to marry me. You will be tricked into it and there will be no honourable escape.”

The Earl rose to his feet

“I am sure you mean well in trying to warn me,” he said, “but I don’t quite understand why you should be so perturbed. I promise you, Miss Calista, I have no intention of marrying anyone.”

“And I have no intention of marrying you,” she replied almost rudely. “But if you do disregard my warning and then accept Mama’s invitation, she will contrive that we shall be married.”

The Earl laughed.

“I just cannot imagine any circumstances in which I could be coerced into accepting a situation that is none of my making. You may rest assured, Miss Calista, that what you fear will not happen.”

Calista rose to her feet.

“You are a fool,” she said. “I might have realised I was wasting my time in writing to you.”

She shook the dust from her riding habit and added,

“Why do you think the Duke of Frampton married my eldest sister, Ambrosine, or the Marquis of Northaw my younger sister Beryl?”

She waited as if she expected the Earl to reply but, as he said nothing and only looked at her speculatively, she said,

“They found themselves engaged to be married because Mama had made up her mind to have them as sons-in-law. Now she has chosen you as – my husband!”

“The idea obviously fills you with horror,” the Earl said, a sarcastic note in his voice.

“I imagined you would have more sense than to treat it as a joke. You are spoken of as being intelligent,” she said, “but I was obviously misled. All right come to Chevington Court, but I swear I will not marry you whatever happens.”

“What could happen?” the Earl enquired.

“You will see,” she replied ominously. “And let me tell you that Mama will win a bet of one thousand guineas the day our engagement is announced in The Gazette .”

“I assure you that she will be a loser,” the Earl said.

He thought that Calista gave him a contemptuous glance before she looked to where the groom was still vainly trying to catch her horse.

It was quite obvious that the animal was playing a game.

No sooner did the groom reach his side and bend forward to take hold of the reins than he moved away, tantalisingly near but just out of reach.

Calista gave another shrill whistle, a single note and now without a moment’s hesitation the animal came trotting up to her, the stirrup swinging as he moved.

She put out her hand, patted his neck and he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

“Did you teach your horse these tricks?” the Earl asked.

“Of course,” Calista answered. “He understands everything I say to him. That is why he is called ‘Centaur’!”