Riding In The Sky

Chapter one 1874-2

She paused and then went on,

“There are so many of these women you call the ‘Pretty Horse-Breakers’ who would be more experienced than I am at that sort of thing.”

“All the Pretty Horse-Breakers who are really attractive have been booked,” Mark replied, “and none that are left would cause the sensation intended.”

He spoke angrily and there was an expression on his handsome face that told Filipa how upset he was.

He was, she thought, humiliated that Lulu, whoever she might be, had preferred Lord Daverton to him.

She put out her hand and took her brother’s.

“Don’t be so upset, Mark,” she pleaded. “I think Lulu sounds horrible.”

She stopped speaking and smiled at him before continuing,

“As you certainly cannot afford to give her a bigger and better diamond necklace than Lord Daverton can provide, I will do anything you ask me to do. But I am so afraid that I may let you down.”

Her brother looked at her.

“I was thinking the last time I was here,” he said, “that you have grown extraordinarily pretty.”

He thought for a moment and then added,

“It’s a shame that you cannot be presented to the Queen and go to some of the balls in London.”

He spoke as if he had thought of it now for the first time.

“As I have no relative or rich Godmother to present me, I shall just have to be content with making my curtsey to the horses!” Filipa smiled.

Mark laughed a little ruefully.

“It’s selfish of me to spend so much money, Filipa, and I feel ashamed of myself.”

“There is no need for you to be,” Filipa replied. “Papa used to say that every young man should sow his wild oats and that is what you are doing.”

“Not very successfully,” Mark said ruefully, “when I cannot even hold the interest of a Pretty Horse-Breaker!”

Filipa knew that she had been right in thinking he was really piqued.

“I think it was disgraceful of Lord Daverton to bribe her away from you,” she said. “Why could he not find his own partner?”

“As it happens, Lulu is so attractive that I am only surprised she was willing to look at me at all, especially when I cannot give her the presents she expects.”

“Why do the Pretty Horse-Breakers want so many presents?” Filipa asked in a puzzled voice.

As if he suddenly remembered who he was talking to, Mark rose from the sofa.

“We have very little time,” he said. “If you are really going to help me, as you say you will – ”

“You know you have only to ask.”

“Thank you, that is what I hoped you would say,” Mark answered, “and if we win one thousand guineas, think how much we could do with it!”

“The most important thing is that we could pay Miss Richmond and Mrs. Smeaton what we owe them,” Filipa said. “I am miserable when the first of the month comes round.”

She suppressed a little sob before she added,

“I have to keep promising that we will pay them more next month, then the next, and they are so – kind and – understanding about it.”

There was silence before Mark said,

“I swear to you, Filipa, I will be more sensible in the future and, if we do win, even if only the second prize, you shall have at least a quarter of it for the servants and the house.”

“Oh, Mark, that would be wonderful!” Filipa said. “When you are not here to shoot the rabbits for us and the wild ducks that come onto the lake, we are sometimes rather hungry.”

“If you say any more,” Mark declared, “I shall go and drown myself and that will solve the problem once and for all.”

“Of course it would not!” Filipa protested. “You must win the prize, one way or another, so please tell me what to do.”

She thought as she spoke that if they won any prize, it would only be the third.

That would be better than nothing.

Mark went outside and down the steps to where his phaeton was waiting with a groom in attendance who grinned when he appeared.

“I’d have gone round to the stables, Sir Mark,” he said, “but I wasn’t sure whether you wanted your trunks.”

“I want them brought inside,” Mark ordered, “but I am afraid there is nobody to help you.”

He knew that old Smeaton, who was the husband of the cook and had been butler when their father was alive, was now very old.

The very most he could do was to shuffle round the table with the dishes.

If there was luggage to be taken upstairs, that was beyond his capacity.

The groom carried in the two trunks he had brought with him from the back of the phaeton and placed them in the hall. Then he drove round to the stables.

Mark looked at Filipa and said,

“Why do we not unpack yours here? Then you can try on the dress to see if it fits you and, if it does, we can put it back into the trunk ready to take with us tomorrow morning?”

“I suppose we shall have to leave very early?”

“I am afraid so. There are two races I want to watch and then the race we are taking part in is at noon and afterwards there will be luncheon for everybody in The Hall.”

He saw his sister’s eyes light up and added,

“You will have to be very careful!”

“About what?”

“In not letting Kilne suspect, if you have a conversation with him, that you are not a Pretty Horse-Breaker.”

Filipa stared at her brother and then she said,

“Do you mean I am not – going with – you as your sister?”

“Good Lord, no!” Mark said hastily. “I thought you understood.”

“You did say that the competitors had to be Pretty Horse-Breakers, but I did not realise that I had to pretend to be one.

“Now, listen to me, Filipa, and try to be intelligent,” Mark said. “There will be no ladies present at the Marquis’s rally.”

He paused a moment and then went on,

“There may be some among the spectators who come in from the neighbourhood, but he will not be entertaining them.”

“But why is it so important that no one else can compete but the women you call Pretty Horse-Breakers?”

There was a little silence before Mark said,

“He just had the idea, and it is something new, that we each should bring a woman who has taken our – fancy.”

“Because she rides so well?” Filipa enquired.

“Yes, that is right, because she rides so well,” Mark agreed, “and, as the Pretty Horse-Breakers have captured the attention of the public, some of them behave as if they were prima donnas!”

Mark spoke bitterly and Filipa knew that he was thinking of Lulu.

“I suppose,” she said, trying to understand, “that socially they are in the same category as actresses.”

She stopped a moment and then went on,

“Papa used to take them out to supper when he was a young man before he fell in love with Mama, but who, of course, she never met.”

“Yes, that is right!” Mark agreed. “And that is why no one, and I repeat, no one, Filipa, must realise that you are a lady.”

“I will try my best,” Filipa agreed, “and Papa always said I was a good rider.”

“You ride magnificently!” Mark replied. “That is a fact, not just a compliment.”

“And the nicest thing you have ever said to me!”

“I will say a great many other nice ones if we win one of the prizes,” Mark replied. “Now let’s have a look at your dress.”

When she saw it, Filipa gave a cry of excitement. It was lovely, lovelier than anything she could have ever imagined.

Made on Mediaeval lines, it had long sleeves that reached over the hands and then fell gracefully to the ground.

The gown was of a pure white material that clung to her body, decorated only with soft white chiffon.

Filipa ran upstairs and somehow she managed to do up the gown at the back.

Then she covered her hair, which was very fair, like the golden corn before it ripens, with the long pointed headdress.

There was the veil, which went from one side of her face to the other, framing her small pointed chin.

She went down to the drawing room.

Mark was standing at the window with a frown between his eyes and she was sure that he was thinking about Lulu again.

She wondered how anyone could disappoint and leave a man who was so attractive.

Her brother turned towards her as she entered and she knew before he spoke that he was delighted at her appearance.

“It fits exactly!” Filipa said. “I was afraid it might be too tight, but actually I am slimmer than Lulu.”

“I had no idea you had such a good figure,” Mark said frankly, “and you look fantastic! At the same time, you will have to use rouge and powder and redden your lips.”

Filipa stared at him.

“Why?”

“Because you are supposed to be a Pretty Horse-Breaker and they use cosmetics in the same way as actresses do.”

“How extraordinary!” Filipa exclaimed. “I should not have thought that it was something they needed when they are riding.”

“When they are riding in Hyde Park,” Mark explained as if she was being rather stupid, “they are giving a kind of performance.”

He paused and then continued,

“Sometimes there are as many as a thousand people at the Achilles statue waiting to see them.”

“It seems extraordinary,” Filipa said, “but I expect that the people are really interested in their horses.”

“Yes, that is right,” Mark agreed hastily, “their horses are usually outstanding.”

Filipa turned round several times to see that her dress really fitted and there was no need for it to be altered.

Then Mark told her to put it back in the trunk and leave it in the hall for the morning.

“You are staying here tonight?” Filipa asked before she left the dining room.

“Of course!” Mark answered.

“If Lulu had been with you, where would you have gone?”

There was a little pause before Mark replied,

“I expect that one of our friends would have accommodated us.”

Filipa knew that was not true.

She fancied, as she left him, that he would have taken Lulu to one of the big Posting inns that could be found on the way to London.

It seemed strange that they should stay anywhere alone, but she supposed that the Pretty Horse-Breakers were a law unto themselves.

They did what they wanted to do without worrying if anybody was criticising them or thinking them fast.

She prayed, as she took off the dress and hat, that she would act the part that Mark required of her without making any mistakes.

Above all, as he had said, she prayed that no one should guess that she was his sister and therefore a lady.

It seemed strange, she reasoned, that ladies could not be horse-breakers.

She remembered, however, that Mark had not been talking of horse-breakers in general, but of ‘Pretty Horse-Breakers’, who were apparently a race apart.

She wondered how, knowing nothing about them, she could pretend successfully to be one.

Then she reasoned that the only thing that really mattered was that she should ride well and help Mark to win the race.

There was so much to arrange that Filipa had no time to think of herself until just before she came down to dinner.

She had to make sure that Mrs. Smeaton had the necessary ingredients to cook a dinner that Mark would enjoy.

She tried also to see that his bed was aired, as he had not slept in it in over a month.

She hoped that old Smeaton had managed, despite his rheumatism, to get up the stairs and lay out Mark’s evening clothes correctly.

But when she joined her brother in the drawing room, she said,

“I have just thought of something important, Mark, which may seem trivial to you. The point is, what shall I wear to arrive in at the place where we will be changing.”

“My God, I had forgotten about that!” Mark exclaimed. “We will be changing at The Hall. The Marquis made it quite clear that there would be rooms available for each of the competitors to change in.”

Filipa was looking at him with worried eyes and he said,

“You must have something fairly smart, in fact very smart, if it comes to that!”

Filipa made a helpless little gesture with her hands.

She had not been able to afford a new gown for over a year. Then it had been something very simple which had been made for her by the village seamstress.

“If you arrive looking as you do now,” Mark said, “they will realise at once that you are not a Pretty Horse-Breaker.”

“Why should they?” Filipa enquired.

“Because they have very expensive tastes,” Mark replied, “and are always dressed to kill!”

“How can they afford it?” Filipa enquired. “Unless, of course, they are paid a great deal by the livery stables.”