Free The Seventh Suitor by Laura Matthews Page A

no sign of thaw. Although the roads were rutted and uneven from the previous thaw and freeze, they were perfectly negotiable; there was little chance of a curricle being mired down.
    Ralph found Benjamin in the library, studying some literature on horse breeding. They spent some time discussing their plans before Ralph suggested that their race be held that very evening.
    “I thought you’d forgotten it,” Benjamin declared. “It’s been difficult to get you away from the Hall these last few weeks.”
    “I hadn’t forgotten. Tonight should be a full moon. May not have better for months. Are you game?”
    Benjamin smiled widely. “You’re on. Still fifty guineas?”
    “Yes, to the Nowland farm, turn, and back here. Start at ten?”
    “So late?”
    “Should be less traffic then, but it makes no difference to me.”
    “Ten it shall be. You stay to dine, of course.”
    Their race was conducted over a course of rutted, winding country lanes by the light of a pale full moon. The lead changed several times in spite of the narrow way, with first Benjamin’s scarlet and then Ralph’s blue curricle in the fore. Across deserted fields to avoid a flock of geese, or swinging around a bend at high speed, the two young men called to one another cheerfully or sang at the tops of their voices. For this short space of time Ralph could involve himself in the race and thrust aside his despondent thoughts.
    On the return journey Benjamin was in the lead and Ralph saw his last chance of overtaking him as they approached a bend wide enough for both curricles. His mood had become reckless, and while Benjamin took the turn cautiously, Ralph determined to make his move before his bays flagged entirely. Around the bend he heard only the slightest touching of the wheel against the bank, and he steadied his horses onto the stretch ahead. But he had not been able to see the road ahead, and he was suddenly faced with a country lad unconcernedly plodding along on his old nag. Ralph cursed wildly as he tried to bring the bays to the side of the road.
    Although he managed to avoid doing the lad and his horse a mischief, his leader stumbled and the already swaying curricle was flung against the bank of the road. Benjamin watched horrified as Ralph was flung from the curricle against the bank and onto the road. The bays stumbled to a shuddering halt while Benjamin dexterously skirted the accident and drew in his own team. He leaped to the ground even as they slowed and raced to his friend. He found Ralph in pain but conscious.
    “Are you all right?” Benjamin asked anxiously.
    “Don’t know. See to the horses, will you?”
    “When I’ve had a look at you. Can you get up?”
    “Can’t be sure. Give me a hand and I’ll try.” But Ralph gasped with agony as he tried to rise, and his arm hung limply at his side. His face was scraped and muddy, his clothes (including Benjamin’s borrowed driving coat) torn, and his hat gone. “Leave me a minute and see to the horses,” he begged.
    Benjamin returned to tell him that the wheeler was lame but that no bones appeared to be broken. “Your curricle is a mess, the wheel smashed and the axle damaged, too, I think, though it is difficult to see in this poor light.”
    “God, I’m an idiot. I should know better than to come round a blind corner like that.”
    “Bad luck. You’d have made it if it hadn’t been for that lad.” This person was still sitting astride his horse, staring at the confusion in the road. He made no remark and no attempt to help.
    “Can you get me to your curricle?” Ralph asked.
    Benjamin surveyed the taller man dubiously. When he had made an unsuccessful attempt, he called to the lad to give him a hand. This seemed to inspire the fellow to dig his heels into his horse, which startled that sluggish beast so much that he took off at a trot. Benjamin returned his attention to his companion and was considerably shaken when another voice met his ears. He had not been aware