The Five-Minute Marriage (16 page)

BOOK: The Five-Minute Marriage
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For some moments, she had noticed with vague uneasiness that the team seemed to be behaving very oddly. They were tossing their heads a great deal, uttering short cries, seemingly attempting to bite and kick one another as they proceeded, and, all the time, tending to increase their pace, which had become very fast indeed. Now, at this juncture, they appeared to grow completely ungovernable, screaming, rearing, frothing at their bits, and then galloping forward at such a headlong speed that all Gareth Penistone

s strength and skill were of no avail to check them.


My God!

he exclaimed.

What has got into the brutes? They appear to have run mad!

Women and children along the sides of the carriage-way were shrieking and running onto the grass, out of their path. Men cursed and dashed to try and stop them, thought better of it, and retreated again. Drivers of other carriages frantically whipped their horses aside, out of the way.

Delphie went rather white, but said calmly,


I believe when horses run mad that you should blow pepper up their noses. Unfortunately I have none with me—but perhaps you carry snuff? That might prove equally efficacious?

Holding the reins with a grip of steel, he replied,


I do use snuff, ma

am, but unfortunately I have left my snuffbox at home! I admire your cool-headedness, however. But at the rate we are going, I am not perfectly convinced that it would, in any case, be found possible to introduce the snuff up their noses. Have you any other suggestions?


Only to let them run until they tire themselves out. I must say, Mr. Penistone, you certainly know how to drive to an inch,

Delphie said encouragingly, as they whirled past a flimsy high
-
perch phaeton with less than a whisker to spare.

She could not help wondering how long he would be able to keep it up, though. The horses, in their frenzy, appeared to be tireless, and there was so much horse-drawn traffic on the carriageway that their headlong career was like some terrifying obstacle race; every instant Mr. Penistone had to be judging, guiding, and steering his frantic team between barouches, landaulets, curricles, and phaetons; it seemed a miracle that he had so far avoided a collision, and almost inevitable that sooner or later, as he tired, there must be an error of judgment which would precipitate some terrible accident.


Should you, perhaps, turn your horses toward the water?

suggested Delphie as the Serpentine came in sight.

If they will enter it, I cannot but feel that it would slow down their progress very considerably, and might exert a calming effect.


A good idea, cousin. It is certainly worth a try,

said Mr. Penistone, and began to turn the course of the enraged pair, by very slow and nice degrees until they had left the graveled track and were running across the grass.


That was very well done!

approved Delphie.

I fancy you are getting the better of them, and that they are beginning to tire.


There is plenty of go in them yet!

he commented grimly.

I believe that it will be best, cousin, if you descend to the footrest, and kneel down with your arms protecting your head. There is a considerable degree of slope at the edge of the water, and it is not inconceivable that the carriage may overturn. I wish I might assist you to move, but my arms are fully engaged at present—in fact they are nearly pulled out of their sockets!


Pray do not be in any anxiety about me,

said Delphie.

I will do as you say, if you really think it best.


I do think so.

Accordingly she edged herself off the seat—with no little difficulty, for the curricle was tilting and swaying wildly from side to side as the horses whirled it over the rough grass—and then knelt on the footrest as he had directed. In another moment the horses entered the water. Gareth had managed to guide the curricle safely down the bank, but when they felt the water on their legs and bellies, the horses screamed again, reared desperately, and broke apart. The curricle heeled over, and Delphie lost hold of the seat which she had been clutching. She was hurled through the air onto the bank; something struck her head, and she knew no more.

Delphie recovered consciousness, choking, as somebody endeavored to introduce a small quantity of cordial between her lips.

Enough—thank you—I am better now.

she gasped.


She will do very well in a moment,

said an unfamiliar voice.

There is no concussion, I am glad to report—merely some bruising. She should remain quietly resting for a period of time.

Delphie opened her eyes and found, to her astonishment, that she was no longer in the park, but in a large sunny room, which appeared to be absolutely full of people. Faces were staring at her

of all sizes, and from all sides, it seemed.


Where am I?

she said faintly.

Oh—I am afraid my mother will be so anxious about me!

A familiar voice—that of Gareth Penistone—said,


Have no apprehensions, Miss Carteret. You have been unconscious only for a very short time. I have, however, already dispatched a boy with a note to your mother, informing her that you have been delayed, and will be returning home shortly. I thought that would be less alarming for her than tidings of an accident.


Thank you—that was very thoughtful
,”
she murmured, closing her eyes again.

She heard Gareth saying,

I am greatly obliged to you, Doctor, for coming with such speed. You can imagine our alarm!

and the other voice, the doctor

s apparently, promising to

call in Greek Street tomorrow and see how she goes on.

Then Gareth

s voice said,

Run along, children, now! You have been helpful and good, but the lady is weak and faint still; she does not want you clustering all over her until she is better. You shall see her again, I promise!—Bardwell, I think it would be a good thing if you were to make some tea.


Certainly, sir.


May we see her before she goes?

piped up a little voice.


Yes, yes! You may bring her tea. Now, run and see to your mother, and let Dr. Ellworthy out of the front door.

Delphie heard the patter of what sounded like dozens of feet, the near slam of a door, and then a more distant one. Silence reigned. She opened her eyes again, and found that she was looking straight into the face of Gareth Penistone. It was decidedly pale, and he was studying her with an expression of strong anxiety in his dark eyes.


Drink a little more of this!

he said, and held the cordial to her lips again.


Thank you—but what of yourself—were you not injured?

she asked when she had sipped a little more, and felt its reviving warmth run through her veins.


Not a scratch! Right as rain. I was tossed clear into the water

took no harm at all, except a ducking, like your friend Miss Baggott.

Indeed she noticed that he seemed to have changed his clothes somewhat hastily.

But you, I fear, were thrown onto the bank, which was less comfortable; however, the doctor has examined you most thoroughly and found no hint of concussion, or any broken bones—which is little short of a miracle!

he said, his voice expressing the relief he felt.

When I remember my sensations—but
you
were so calm, so fearless and practical—


In reality I was shaking like a blancmange, I assure you!

said Delphie.

—But it is all over now, thank heaven. What about your cousin

s horses? Did they take any hurt?


Very little, amazingly enough, though his curricle is in a sad state. One of the pair has a swelled fetlock. It is certainly thanks to your notion of driving them into the water that we—and they

came off so lightly. But they are still in a very queer state

wild, frothing, and sweating. Tristram—one of the boys, who is very knowledgeable about horses—has suggested that they might have been
hocused—g
iven some drug in their feed to make them run wild as they did.


But how very extraordinary! Who would do such a thing?


I do not know!

he said grimly.

Somebody who has a grudge against my cousin, perhaps. I certainly intend to make some inquiries. How do you do now, Miss Carteret?

The formality of this term of address made her smile a little; she said,


You seem to forget that I am your wife, sir!


No, I do not forget it,

said Mr. Penistone.

Delphie struggled to sit up, and looked about.


Pray be careful,

he said, and piled some cushions behind her.

Where am I?

she said again.


Why

—he sounded apologetic—

I am afraid you are in my house in Curzon. Street! I knew your views about it—that you would not wish to be here—but really it seemed so unquestionably the closest and best harbor—Are you sure you should be sitting up?


Quite sure, I thank you. I am almost recovered. What a pleasant room,

she observed, looking around her.

It seemed to be on the first floor, for she could see the tops of trees, at no great distance, in the park, presumably. The room was somewhat bare, very sparsely furnished, but what furnishings there were, though on the plain side, showed considerable sign of taste and elegance.


I cannot claim credit—

Gareth said apologetically, noticing her glance.

I inherited all these things from my father.


It is charming.

She rose, with caution, from the chaise longue on which she had been reclining. He took her arm.


Pray take care, cousin. I do not think that you should stand for long.


Very little weakness—it will soon pass.

She moved her shoulders, and said ruefully,

I shall be stiff tomorrow, though!

Then, walking to the window, she looked out, and said politely,


You certainly have a delightful prospect here, Mr. Penistone.

A smile just touched the
corner
s of his mouth. He said,


I am happy that you admire it, ma

am. When you are rested, and have taken some refreshment, perhaps you would care to see the rest of the house? And, in particular, the empty rooms on the ground floor?

She hardly knew what to reply. He
could
not, after all, have displaced his mistress so quickly. Did he intend to
introduce
her?

While she was wondering how to answer, he walked to the door, put his head through, and called to some invisible person,


Is not the tea ready yet?

Then he returned, led her to a chair, and said,


I hope I have not misinterpreted your wishes?


Oh, no! It is what I would like of all things!

In a moment the tea appeared—brought, much to Delphie

s astonishment, by two little girls in dark gray linsey dresses and brown holland pinafores, who came slowly and carefully in, one of them carrying the cup of tea (which she bore with intense concentration, never lifting her eyes from it) and the other with a plate of bread-and-butter. These things being placed on a small table beside Delphie, the children were free to look at her, which they did with huge eyes.

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