A young rampant male was a new experience for her. He was society’s darling, extremely spoiled and able to have his own way about everything. Maria suddenly realized her power. She could have the young stallion eating out of her hand. “Prince George, if you do not behave, I shall faint.”
“Sweet Pussy, if you do not be kind, I shall die.” He rubbed himself against her belly, his hand firmly reaching for a love apple.
Just as firmly she removed his hand. “If you promise to behave, I will let you take me home in your carriage, but we must go back outside now or my reputation will be blackened beyond redemption.”
“Ah, Pussy, you are so hard, yet so soft. Let it be known that a prince obeys your commands.” He had a little golden locket for her holding a miniature portrait of himself, but he would give it to her in the carriage where she couldn’t escape him. He would order a closed carriage to escort her home to Marble Hill.
* * *
Tony glanced at the sun and guessed it was about four o’clock. She was anxious to get Savage’s team back to London without incident. She made her way to the paddock where the horses were grazing and asked a postilion to help her harness them into the burgundy phaeton. Dolly looked reluctant. “Stay, if you like,” Tony urged.
“No, I can’t really, I have to get back to the theater.” She hesitated. “Could you go a bit slower on the way back?”
“Snail’s pace, I promise you,” Tony vowed. She checked to make sure the bits were tight beneath the horses’ tongues and took a firm grip on the reins the moment she climbed onto the high perch. Miraculously the horses had decided to behave and Tony, lulled by the rhythmic, springy motion of the phaeton, began to daydream about Adam Savage.
She was startled from her reverie by the sound of galloping horses coming up close behind. She turned in alarm to see Bernard Lamb standing up at the reins whipping his team. The moment she slacked on the reins her own team lunged forward, spurred on by the speed of the other horses.
The space between the carriages widened as the blood stock proved their superiority. Tony was frightened. She knew her cousin Bernard wasn’t trying to race. He was trying to kill her!
He hadn’t a hope in hell of catching up out here in the country, but London was only a mile away and she would have to slow the team down to maneuver safely. It was the other traffic rather than Tony’s efforts that curbed the team’s speed, but still they seemed to surge along the city streets at a frightening pace. She was thankful that darkness was still hours away, fervently counting on the hope that Bernard Lamb would not attempt murder in broad daylight.
As they started up Constitution Hill, Tony gave a prayer of thanks that their pace slackened enough so that she’d be able to turn the corner. She thought she was home free as she approached Stable Yard Road, but at that moment her cousin’s team pulled alongside and careened into her.
If it hadn’t been for the horse and cart delivering coal to Lancaster House, Tony would have been able to swerve out of Bernard’s path, but as it was, there was nowhere for her to go. The burgundy phaeton overturned, throwing both Tony and Dolly to the pavement. The horses plunged madly, but miraculously, they were not dragged down by the light phaeton.
Bernard Lamb’s carriage was unharmed, but the impact had flung both him and Angela from the rig. Tony’s long legs saved her from hitting her head on the curb. Dolly sat crying, holding her ankle, while coal littered the entire road as if there had been an explosion at a colliery.
Pandemonium reigned. The coal carter cursed a blue streak. The hostlers from Stable Yard ran out, as did the entire staff of servants from Lancaster House.
Tony was livid. Never before in her life had she experienced such a blinding rage. She picked up the horsewhip and advanced upon the prone figure of her hated cousin. He threw up his arms to protect himself and shouted, “You’ve busted my bloody rib!”
“You bastard, I’ll kill you,” screamed Tony.
Suddenly the whip was wrenched from her hand. “What in Christ’s name is going on here?” She looked into ice-pale eyes and froze.
Chapter 21
Savage’s day had been unbelievably successful. His horses were all snug and tight in their new stables at Edenwood and the clipper had skimmed up the Thames from Gravesend with a minimum of sail. He negotiated his own price and had decided to spruce her up a bit and name her theFlying Dragon.
When he stabled his horse he noticed immediately his phaeton and high-steppers were missing.
“Where are my other horses?” he inquired.
“This is the day of the phaeton race to Richmond, sir,” the head groom announced.
Savage raised dark brows. “Your point being?”
“Lord Lamb—” He got no further.
“The young son of a bitch wouldn’t dare!” Savage thundered. It was at this point that all hell had broken loose.
“The bastard tried to kill me!” Tony informed Savage.
It looked the other way about to Adam. Not only had Tony taken his cattle and smashed his phaeton to pieces, he had been about to horsewhip his cousin to vent his temper.
“Too bad he didn’t succeed. It would save me the trouble,” Savage said between his teeth.
Adam helped a distraught Angela Brown to her feet, but a twisted knee prevented her from standing. He lifted her onto the seat of Bernard’s carriage. Next he picked up Dolly and lifted her up beside Angela. Savage helped the stablemen unharness his thoroughbreds from the wrecked phaeton. He examined them carefully, running his hands over their fetlocks and hocks.