Page 20 of The Heir
And yet here she was.
And I will be damned if it is Sir John Conroy and his machinations that make me break my word. Especially now.
The princess might be subject to occasional flights of fancy, like any young lady. But not this kind. Something had happened out on the green.
The stable yard was bright with the lamplight that poured from open windows. Warm laughter rolled out into the damp night, along with the loud, cheerful talk of those who lived and worked with the snugly kept horses. This was no surprise. The barracks must be full of the drivers and outriders who had arrived with the duchess’s dinner guests.
Lehzen could not help but think how Princess Victoria would have much preferred to be down here rather than in the red salon with her mother’s guests.
Lehzen’s personal connection with the men who served in this department was tenuous. She did not ride and, therefore, kept no horse of her own. The idea of her having her own carriage was laughable. But the groomsmen and pages had direct contact with the princess, and therefore, Lehzen took it on herself to at least know their names and something of their histories and, most importantly, to whom they answered.
The skinny page at the barracks door smelled as much of beer as he did of horses. He lolled on a pile of empty sacks, his head back and his mouth open in a loud and steady snore. Lehzen shook him by the shoulder, and when he blinked awake, she sent him scrambling to fetch the head groom, whose name was, incongruously, Arthur Saddler.
Saddler was a solid brick of a man who had worked with horses all his life. He had a keen sense of his own worth and did not stand on any ceremony, no matter who was in front of him. In fact, he was still pulling on his coat when he came out to meet her.
“Well, now, ma’am.” His bow held no more respect than his greeting. “What brings you here to my doorstep?”
“I was hoping to speak with you about the groom Clyde Hornsby.”
“Oh, yes? It wasn’t enough that Sir John sent him packing, then? You need to come down here andtalkabout him?”
So.
Lehzen had suspected she would find that Hornsby had been dismissed. Sir John believed he played the game of politics deeply. Perhaps he did out in the wider world. But inside the palace, his play was blunt and shatteringly obvious. When somebody knew something or said something that might become inconvenient, Sir John’s first move was to bribe them. If he could not bribe them, he sacked them.
“I am sent here by Her Highness personally,” Lehzen told Saddler. “Princess Victoria wished it to be known she thanks Hornsby for his service. She has long said he was one of her favorite grooms, and she appreciated the care he took with her horses. If it happens that he should need a character reference, he should come to me, and I will arrange it. She also asked that Hornsby be given this.” She reached into the pocket at her waist and pulled out two sovereigns. This amount was a significant portion of a groom’s quarterly wage.
“One of Her Highness’s favorite grooms?” Saddler gave a sharp bark of a laugh. “Not what Hornsby said. Said she called him ‘Pinch-face’ when she thought he couldn’t hear. But as you like. I’ll see he gets the message. And the money.” He held out his hand.
Lehzen dropped the coins into Saddler’s leathery palm. Most likely, Hornsby never would see them, but that was beside the point. Saddler’s demeanor had shifted from open suspicion to burgeoning curiosity, and that was what she needed.
Saddler tucked the coins away in his waistcoat pocket. “Tell me, m’lady, why’s Her Highness taking such an interest in Clyde Hornsby?”
“She fears he has been done an injustice.”
“Now, that does surprise, since the great Sir John himself said Hornsby was being sacked for his insolence to her royal personage.”
So.
“Sir John does not speak for Her Highness,” she said.
“Somebody ought to tell Sir John that.”
“It is my hope—indeed, it is my expectation—that this information will eventually be communicated to him by the appropriate persons.”
Their gazes locked, and silence stretched out between them. Saddler’s mouth twitched.
“Well, we shall have to put our trust in our betters, then.” He bowed.
There was irony in both the tone and the gesture. Lehzen chose to ignore them.
“How did this matter unfold between Hornsby and Sir John?” she asked. “What did Sir John see when they went out to the green?”
Saddler’s expression twisted, as if he was trying, and failing, to work through some particularly difficult equation. “What do you mean, when they went out to the green? They didn’t go nowhere. Sir John just storms in here, bellowing for Hornsby. Doesn’t even take him to one side. Gives him a dressing-down in front of God and all about his slovenly conduct and his gross insolence. Says Hornsby insulted Her Highness, told her lies to frighten her, and endangered her life with his neglect of her.” Saddler stopped. “Her Highness was right. Hornsbyisa pinch-face, but he’s a good man with horses and knows his duty. He looked after Her Highness like she was his own daughter.”
“I know it,” said Lehzen.
“It ended in Sir John telling Hornsby to clear out. At once. With night coming on and all. Said that his things would be sent on.”
