Page 100 of How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days

Sir Waldo scrambled to his feet, struggling to adjust his jacket, his hair clustered wetly around his perspiring face. He had never looked less dignified, and it might have been funny had his face not also been so entirely alight with rage that he was almost unrecognizable.

‘You stupid, stupid animal!’ he snarled, and he snatched his whip up from the floor, pulled his arm back and delivered a heavy thrash to the horse’s neck.

‘No!’ Miss Hesse breathed.

‘Waldo, stop!’

‘Learned its lesson now, I think, sir!’

Sir Waldo ignored their protests, wrapping his hand around the bridle to pin the horse in place and delivering another blow that had the horse skittering backwards with a pained bray.

‘We must stop him,’ Miss Hanworth said, as she tried to untangle herself from her stirrups.

Some of the shock cleared from Ashford’s head, and suddenly his legs moved as he swung off his own horse – throwing out his reins to Miss Hanworth without warning and she caught them from him instinctively. Ashford lunged towards Sir Waldo as he was trying to pull the poor animal back towards him to deliver another terrible blow, seizing his arm just in time.

‘Cease!’ he said, bearing Waldo’s arm downwards with all the strength he could muster. ‘Cease.’

‘Remove your hands,’ Sir Waldo snapped. ‘It needs to learn!’

‘This teaches nothing,’ Ashford said. ‘Cease, sir.’

‘A rotten animal,’ Sir Waldo said. ‘I shall shoot her myself – the worst forty guineas I have ever spent.’

‘I shall give you sixty for her,’ Ashford said, leaning round to tug the reins out of Sir Waldo’s grasp. ‘Martyn!’

Ashford’s groom sprang forward.

‘We have an addition to our stable,’ Ashford said, tugging the horse further from Sir Waldo’s reach. ‘See what you can do to make her easy.’

With a sharp nod, the groom took the reins from Ashford, and led the horse away with a soothing series of clucks.

‘Do you mean to humiliate me, sir?’ Sir Waldo said, a vein throbbing in his beetroot-red forehead. ‘In my own home?’

‘You humiliate yourself,’ Ashford said quietly.

‘Waldo, I think you had best go inside and cool off!’ Lady Phoebe said shrilly, her face white and afraid.

Something was very amiss here. As if in agreement, Brutus let out another stream of high-pitched barks.

‘That animal!’ Sir Waldo snarled, taking a sharp step forward to Brutus this time, violence still writ on his face.

Ashford stepped into his path – and for one moment he truly thought Waldo might hit him and braced himself. Brandon and Hanworth certainly thought so, too, for they were dismounting from their own mounts, Hesse becoming tangled in the capes of his coat in his haste to join them. But it was Dacre who came quickest, reaching Sir Waldo’s side in two quick strides.

‘Brother,’ he said, clasping a hand upon his shoulder. ‘Why don’t we go inside and partake of a little lemonade, hmm?’

‘Unhand me!’ Sir Waldo tried to shake him off, but Dacre held fast. It was one of the rare moments where one appreciated that Dacre – so much more level-headed than his twin – still had every inch of the same breadth and brawn.

‘You treacherous cur!’ Waldo turned on Dacre, face full of recrimination and opened his mouth as if to shout – before suddenly appearing to perceive the shock and horror on the faces of his audience. He paused, took in a deep inhale, made a deeper exhale and appeared to wrestle his temper back under control.

‘My … apologies,’ he said, with great difficulty. ‘The heat of the day – I must change my dress.’

He stalked off toward the house, leaving a horrible silence behind him. Lady Phoebe looked around helplessly. Ashford took a step toward her, but she warded him off with a raised hand.

‘We all know … the horror of losing one’s temper … don’t we?’ Lady Phoebe said, into the tense silence of the morning.

‘Yes, of course,’ Lady Morton said at once. ‘Do you remember that time my cane broke at Vauxhall?’

She launched straight into the involved and amusing tale, as she was helped off her horse, managing – by sheer force of personality – to ease some of the tension in the air. Though Ashford noticed, as she picked up Brutus, that her hands were trembling.