Midsummer Magic (Magic Trilogy 1)

“I see,” said Hawk. He stared off into space for many moments, saying nothing more. Then, suddenly, he said in a meditative voice. “I wonder if I would truly go to the gallows if I murdered her?”

“My lord!”

“Yes, Marcus?”

“Lady Frances is a very gracious lady, she truly cares and enjoys ... well, my lord, she is—”

“You, my dear Marcus,” Hawk interrupted his effusions smoothly, “don’t have the blessed opportunity of being leg-shackled to the lady. Perhaps,” he continued in the same thoughtfully considering voice, “I could poison her tea, or perhaps her scones. She is most fond of scones, you know.”

“My lord! Surely—”

“I jest? I wonder. I suppose I could strangle her and pretend she took a toss from a horse. No, that would leave telling bruises on her throat, wouldn’t it? Ah, there is much to consider here.”

Marcus wondered wildly if the earl were truly serious. He saw the determined gleam in his lordship’s eyes, and decided at that moment that he was quite grateful not to be in her ladyship’s slippers.

“Yes,” Hawk said after a moment. “She will return on the morrow. Then I shall see.”

19

Who can refute a sneer?

—REVD. WILLIAM PALEY

“Why, good morning, Frances. How well you are looking. Was your brief trip to York successful?”

Frances’ hand fell silent on Flying Davie’s silky nose. The stallion tossed his head, and Belvis murmured in that magic voice of his, “Now, old lad, enough nonsense out of you. You mind your manners with her ladyship.”

Frances turned slowly to face her husband. It was ten o‘clock in the morning, and she had returned at eight o’clock. She had changed quickly, eaten, and gone immediately to the paddocks.

Hawk was dressed for riding in buckskins and buff riding coat. His Hessians glistened in the morning sun. He looked perfectly calm, and his voice showed only mild interest.

“Yes, my lord,” she said, tilting her head up just a bit, “it was most successful.”

Flying Davie snorted and Belvis chuckled. “This beast is the jealous sort, my lord,” he said to Hawk. “He is well-used to Lady Frances’ undivided attention.”

“Only because he has but to look at me and I feed him shamelessly,” Frances said on a smile.

“It doesn’t matter,” Belvis said. “I’ve cut down on his feed, you may be certain. The fellow is too fat for his own good. His time will increase markedly within the month, my lord. He will be our fastest racer and will do you proud at Newmarket.”

Newmarket! Hawk stared from Belvis to his wife. “May I inquire as to your success in York?”

Frances drew a deep breath. “Actually, I had heard—from Belvis—that a smithy there had come up with a most ingenious idea. You see, Belvis has told me the difficulties in getting the horses to, say, Newmarket or Ascot or Doncaster. It takes days and the horses are naturally tired at the end of their journey. This smithy believes he can construct a sort of closed stall with wheels so that the racers won’t have to walk. They, in turn, are drawn by other horses.”

“It is ingenious, my lord,” Belvis added. “The fellow—his name is Cricks—sent the plans back with Lady Frances. If you would like to study them?”

“Yes, I should like to,” Hawk said. To Frances he continued, a brow raised, “May I inquire if this commission is part of the five thousand pounds?”

“Y-yes,” Frances said, but her slight flush betrayed her. To her immense relief, her husband said nothing more about it.

“I understand, Belvis,” Hawk said, “that Lord Danvers is due with a mare today.”

“Yes, indeed, my lord. Gentleman Dan is ready, you may be certain.”

“I am certain that he is. Would you and Flying Davie excuse me for a moment?” Hawk gently took Frances’ arm and strode away from the paddock.

She waited for the explosion, but instead she got a very calm, sneering look. She wasn’t certain what to say to that look. She said nervously, plucking at her skirt, “You will allow this, won’t you, Hawk? It is two hundred pounds. It will cover the cost of the horse stable.”

“Oh, I shall allow Gentleman Dan to have his fun.” His eyes lit up as from within, and Frances blinked. “Indeed, my dear,” he continued, his voice now evilly mocking to her sensitive ears, “I believe that you should watch the pro