She came up alongside, heard Henry cry in his shrill voice: ‘Lordy, guv’nor, if it ain’t that there Miss Taverner!’ and saw her guardian standing in the doorway of the inn with a glass in his hand. She met his startled, incredulous gaze for a moment as she went by, bowed slightly, and proceeded on her way at an increased speed.
Judson twisted round in his seat to look behind. Miss Taverner, despising herself, was yet unable to refrain from asking what his lordship was doing.
‘I think, miss, he means to come after you,’ replied Judson ominously. ‘If I may say so, miss, his lordship doesn’t look best pleased.’
Miss Taverner gave a short laugh, and set her horses at a dangerous gallop down the hill. ‘I don’t mean to let him come up with me. He has to pay his reckoning before he can start. If I can reach Cuckfield and be away with a fresh team before he catches me –’
‘But Miss Judith, you can’t race those chestnuts!’ cried the groom, aghast.
‘We will see.We don’t know when they were put-to after all.’
‘For God’s sake, miss, don’t take them down the hill at the gallop! You’ll have us overturned!’
She said coolly: ‘I am driving this curricle, Judson. Confine your attention to the view, if you please. I do not know when I have seen finer bursts of country than on this road.’
The vale which was opening out before them as they raced down the hill was indeed beautiful, with its copses, and winding roads, and glimpses of warm-tiled roofs amongst the trees, but Judson, clinging to his seat, hoped fervently that his mistress would not permit it to distract her attention. He cast an alarmed look at her profile, and was relieved to see that her gaze was fixed on the road.
At the foot of the hill the road cut through Staplefield Common, and ran on to Cuckfield through three miles of undulating country. The team was responding gallantly, but when they were pulled up at the toll-gate at Whiteman’s Green their flanks were heaving and foam-flecked. Every moment wasted at the gate seemed an age to Miss Taverner, glancing continually over her shoulder. The ticket was handed up just as she caught the sound of hooves thundering behind her. The gate was pushed slowly open; she started her team with a jerk, urged them into a canter, and was away again by the time Judson reported the Earl to have reached the gate.
The way was now hollow, running between banks covered with a thick tangle of hazels. There were bends in it that ever and again hid the pursuing curricle from view, but the sound of the chestnuts’ hooves seemed to Miss Taverner to be coming inexorably closer. She held grimly to the crown of the road, determined with a queer mixture of obstinacy and unreasoning panic to prevent Worth from passing her.
She feather-edged a corner, almost scraping the wheels of a post-chaise coming in the opposite direction, heard Judson gasp beside her, and gave a reckless little laugh. ‘How near is he?’ she demanded.
‘Close behind you, miss. For the Lord’s sake steady them at the next bend! It’s sharper than you know.’
One of the leaders stumbled, but she held him up, and pressed on. The bend came into sight; she checked slightly, and hugged the left side of the road, secure in the conviction that the Earl would not dare shoot his horses past on the corner. A sharp, compelling blast on a horn sounded immediately behind her; a chestnut head crept up alongside, and in another instant the Earl had flashed by, his team at a full gallop.
She gazed after him in a kind of horrified wonder, believing for a moment that the chestnuts were bolting. But their headlong pace was checked gradually; they dropped into a canter; continued so for a little way; and then clattered into Cuckfield at a smart trot.
Her own team was blown; she could only follow in the Earl’s wake through the narrow street to the centre of the town.
He reached the King’s Head considerably in advance of her and by the time she had pulled up before it he was standing on the ground awaiting her, and a couple of ostlers, shrilly instructed by Henry, were leading off his horses.
‘Blow up for the change, Judson!’ said Miss Taverner sharply.
The groom, however, was looking at Worth, and did not obey her. The Earl laid his hand on the curricle, and said curtly: ‘You will be pleased to alight, Miss Taverner.’
She glanced down into his face, and experienced a sensation of shock. She had seen the Earl supercilious, she had seen him scornful, but never had she encountered in him a look so blazingly angry. The breath caught in her throat, but she said with tolerable composure:
‘By no means, Lord Worth. You were averse, I believe, from my driving to Brighton in Peregrine’s curricle. You must know that I have submitted to your decree, and have engaged to race him there in my own curricle instead.’
‘Miss Taverner, must I request you again to get down?’
‘I shall not get down, sir. Time is precious. I wait only for the change.’
His eyes met hers; he said with a menace she could not mistake in his voice: ‘Your race is run. I have a good deal to say to you. If you choose it shall be said here in the open street, but I think you will prefer to hear it alone!’
A flush of mortification at being thus addressed before the groom and the waiting ostlers, spread over her cheeks. She could not doubt that the Earl would be as good as his word, and with one furious look shot at him from under her brows, she gave the reins to Judson, and allowed the Earl to assist her to alight. His fingers grasped her wrist ungently, and released it the instant her feet were upon the ground. He said: ‘Go into the inn!’ and turned to give instructions to the ostlers.
There was nothing for it but to obey him. Holding her head proudly erect, Miss Taverner went into the King’s Head, followed by the landlord, who had been standing just outside, and who ushered her at once into one of his private parlours and desired to know what refreshment he might bring her.
She declined every offer of tea, coffee, or lemonade, and stripping off her gloves stood by the table in the centre of the room, jerking them between her hands. In the space of a few minutes the door opened to admit the Earl. He came in with a firm stride, and said without preamble: ‘You will finish your journey by post-chaise, Miss Taverner. I have hired one for you, and it should be ready in a few minutes.’
Her eyes flashed; she exclaimed: ‘How dare you? How dare you? I shall finish as I began! This interference in the way I choose to travel passes all bounds!’
‘Miss Taverner,’ said the Earl, ‘I shall not remind you that you are my ward, for it is a fact you must be well aware of, but I shall give you a warning that may not come amiss. While I hold the reins you will run as I choose, and by God! ma’am, if you try to take the bit between your teeth it will be very much the worse for you!’
This way of putting the matter was scarcely calculated to mollify Miss Taverner, nor did the consciousness of being in the wrong act on her temper as it should. She was white with anger, her lips tightly compressed. She heard the Earl in quick-breathing silence, and when he had done, said in a low, trembling voice: ‘I admit no right in you to order my movements. My fortune is in your hands, and I have been content to have it so, but at the outset I told you that your authority extended no further than to the management of my affairs. Upon every occasion you have intervened where you had neither cause nor right. I have hitherto submitted, because I do not choose to be for ever at loggerheads with one to whom, to my misfortune, I am in some sort tied. But this goes beyond what my patience can suffer. You are not to be the judge of the propriety of my actions! If it pleases me to drive a curricle to Brighton it is no business of yours!’