Free Lady Susan Plays the Game by Janet Todd Page A

resumed, ‘You will see that the axle doesn’t pass through the wheel secured with a washer and linchpin as it usually does but is bolted directly to the inside of the wheel nave. Now look at the whip springs, sir …’
    Mr Manwaring had smiled and backed away. ‘Splendid, so smart it should be carried in its own chair.’
    Sir James had not understood the joke – if joke it was. He’d laughed his high laugh and by the time he’d stopped Mr Manwaring was gone. The young man didn’t take umbrage – his mother had often walked off while he talked; sometimes she’d actually put on her spectacles and looked through the accounts or written her journal entries while he told her of the glories of the mare brought over from Lincoln or the way the great horses churned up the mud and made a bog of the meadows – but she always smiled when he laughed, and he felt warm with her.
    Now, to his surprise, he felt similar warmth with the new visitor, more than with Mary. He had not been so happy since his dear mother passed away. Lady Susan even improved on his mother for she listened with the most flattering attention when he told of the horses he’dridden as a boy, and the ones he’d recently bought and hoped to buy. She was a fine woman too, there was no mistaking that.
    When Sir James paused in one of his catalogues Lady Susan thought she might ease him from livestock on to his dear ‘mama’.
    â€˜She was so – so – so …’
    â€˜I’m sure,’ said Lady Susan soothingly as Sir James’s fleshy lips began to tremble.
    â€˜I wish you had met her. You would have got on like a – like a house on fire’.
    From what Alicia had told her, Lady Susan doubted this. It was odd, she thought, that such a mother hadn’t married off her booby son before now, but perhaps she enjoyed her control too much. Sir James was in his mid-to-late twenties, Lady Susan surmised, an overgrown child who missed the ‘Mama’ who’d petted and ruled him too long.
    By listening further to his chatter, she had her views confirmed. Sir James had been allowed his toys, his carriages, handsome horses and guns, while his ‘Mama’ and the estate agent controlled the property, tenants, incomes and rents. ‘Mama’ had let him ruffle up one of her maids – at least Lady Susan thought Sir James hinted at this when his face grew crimson and his stutter accelerated – and she’d planned to marry him to a distant relative, a Miss Gantry, a clever girl still only fifteen with no dowry to speak of. Lady Susan imagined that Miss Gantry would be pleased to be wedded to anyone for Sir James described a house of five sisters and two brothers, no doubt all squabbling. But the plan had not been perfected before Lady Martin died. Without her management Sir James was nonplussed by Miss Gantry’s quick responses: he felt put down in her company and had run away before her family could move. Horses were as clever as people, he said. He lowered his voice. ‘I am going to buy one that can count you know.’
    Lady Susan smiled, ‘I’m sure you are.’
    He’d been relieved to meet Mary Manwaring, who loved nice clothes and smiled at him a lot. ‘You know,’ he said confidentially, ‘Mama would like me to marry.’ He reddened again, ‘I mean, the right lady of course. But it’s not like a horse is it?’ He turned his colourless eyes on Lady Susan, ‘I mean you can’t look in her mouth or take her out for a canter or anything like that, you know.’ He laughed, then giggled, then wiped the spittle from his mouth.
    â€˜Alas, you can’t,’ said Lady Susan softly. ‘But you can see how she behaves, how placid and comfortable she might be to live with.’
    â€˜Well, Mary is nice when she’s in humour and Mrs Manwaring is nice to me too.’
    â€˜You are not marrying the