When he saw they suffered from no more than a frothy coat of lather, he went back into the street to deal with the belligerent carter.
“Wot about my bloody coal?” A shower of abusive curses followed.
“I suggest you pick it up from the road before you are charged with causing an accident.” The deadly tone of authority made the coal man swallow his curses. Savage swept Tony with an incensed look. “You can help him!” He strode over to where Bernard Lamb was just picking himself up off the ground.
“What happened?” Savage demanded.
Bernard shrugged. “We were racing. The coal wagon got in the way.” He held his side.
“Will you be able to drive?” Savage asked.
Bernard grinned. “Take more than a cracked rib to stop me.”
“Good man,” Savage approved. He turned to the girls whose tears had transformed into looks of speculation. “Are you both all right?” he asked kindly.
“Well, I’ll be off the stage with this a week, won’t I?” Angela said, showing him her swollen ankle.
Savage reached into his billfold and slipped the girls some folded pound notes, then saw Bernard and the actresses on their way long before Tony and the carter had picked up all the coal. Savage still held his wallet. “Haul this away on your wagon and I’ll make it worth your while.”
The coal man touched his blackened cap with a blackened hand and reached for the crisp pound notes with blackened fingers. When the pieces of the phaeton were loaded, Savage said curtly to Tony, “When you are done here, present yourself in Half-Moon Street.” He strode off without deigning to glance in her direction.
Once Savage had departed, the servants from Lancaster House began to snicker at the young lord who had been ordered to pick up lumps of coal from the front street. “When yer finished, we ‘ave a chimney needs sweepin’,” a footman taunted.
“Shut your bloody cake hole,” Tony spat, taking aim with a shiny cob of anthracite.
Her feet dragged later as she climbed the front steps of the town house, but she was determined to tell him of the danger she’d been in and how Bernard Lamb intended to eliminate Lord Lamb so that he could inherit.
Tony climbed to the library and was thankful that Sloane was nowhere about. Savage sat smoking and sipping a brandy. Tony opened her mouth, “My cousin followed me to Richmond for the sole purpose of—”
“Don’t dare offer me excuses, for what you did was inexcusable,” Savage stated flatly.
Tony flushed. “I know I shouldn’t have taken your horses without permission, but if I’d asked, you would have refused.”
“Correct.” Silence filled the room.
“I wouldn’t have gotten roped into the race if I hadn’t had too much to drink.”
“Correct.” Silence and smoke now filled the room.
Tony should have known the day would be a disaster from the moment she had drawn number thirteen. It had been an omen. She didn’t dare offer bad luck as an excuse, however, for Savage was the kind of man who believed you made your own luck. There wasn’t much point in accusing her cousin of plotting her murder, either, for he’d treat it with contempt. To hell with Savage; a tyrant couldn’t be appeased.
Tony lifted her chin and drew the heavy purse from her pocket. She dropped it on his desk. “You’ll think what the hell you like, no matter what I say, but I won the bloody race and that took guts.” She sneered at him. “That’ll pay for your precious phaeton.”
Savage ground out his cigar. “You’ve missed the point again, unless you are being deliberately obtuse. You put the animals in jeopardy, to say nothing of the girls. Fortunately the horses are unharmed; not so the ladies.”
“Theladies”—she said the word with heavy sarcasm— “sustained nothing more than sprained ankles. I think they’ll live!”
Adam’s eyes and voice lost none of their iciness. “Unlike you, they have to earn their living. They won’t be walking the boards of the stage for at least a week.” His eyes acknowledged the money on the desk. “This should keep them from starving.”
Tony’s mouth tightened. “They’ll still be able to earn money on their backs; it was their bloody ankles they hurt.”
Savage said through his teeth, “The thing I most detest about you is your snobbery.”
Antonia felt pierced to the heart. She knew Anthony would never cry in front of Savage, yet she felt her throat constrict. To stop the tears from forming she swiped her hand across her nose in a gesture of disrespect, leaving a black streak of coal dust.
Savage shook his head. “Two young bucks trying to outdo each other to impress the ladies. Get the hell out of my sight.”
Another young buck was trying to impress a lady at this same hour. His Royal Highness sat in a closed carriage outside Marble Hill. His blue satin leg pressed against Maria Fitzherbert’s soft thigh as he brushed back a golden curl. “Darling Pussy, let me stay the night?” he begged.