Page 33 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
“Ahh...” Kit’s throat tightened as it always did when the subject of his father came up.
“So.” Vincent cleared his throat. “I shall be escorting you to Tattersall’s today.”
Kit’s shoulders drooped, and he let out a heavy sigh. “I am capable of going places on my own.”
“Of course, but Darius believes, and the rest of us agree with him, that you may be targeted by Walsh and Balfour. It’s just a matter of when and where. We have no idea if they will choose to come at you with legal nonsense or if they might attempt something more...underhanded. Either way, we shall be witnesses to your good character or bodyguards against any unforeseen attacks.”
Kit knew his enemies were capable of either course of action. Perhaps Darius was right to be concerned. “Very well, you may play nursemaid to me today.”
An hour later, Kit was dressed in his top boots, with leather riding breeches and a sloping double tailcoat made of kerseymere. He had chosen a green striped waistcoat to accent his blue tailcoat. It was the most effort he’d made to look more like the other young bucks his age since returning home. Soon, he and Vincent were in the yard of a coach maker, eyeing the available styles and colors.
“We ought to purchase a decent drag for you. Now that you’re back in town, everyone will expect you to have one.” Vincent crossed his arms and studied the gentleman’s four-wheeled coach before them.
The coach seller shifted restlessly nearby, waiting anxiously for Kit to make a decision. The coach was a glossy dark blue and would look rather fetching with the Kentwell crest painted in gold and green upon the sides.
“I’ll take this one,” he informed the seller.
“Excellent choice, my lord. I will have a bill of sale prepared.”
When they were alone, Vincent smiled. “Perhaps you ought to consider adding a landau for drives in the park with Miss Townsend.”
Kit pictured himself in an open carriage on a fine spring day as he escorted Suzannah beneath the blooming trees in Hyde Park. Just the thought of seeing her smile shyly at him beneath the dappled sunlight made him feel... dizzy. The last time he’d felt like that, he’d been left half-dead outside of the settlement, working on the construction of a road. Three men had perished that day from the heat of the sun and the lack of water. He gave his head a little shake.
“I have a bit more on my mind than a drive through the park with a woman.”
Vincent rolled his eyes. “Your thirst for revenge is admirable, but remember that living a good life can be a revenge all its own. If you truly like Miss Townsend and she likes you, there’s nothing to say you cannot enjoy spending time with her.”
The frustration that now sparked in Kit was entirely because he knew his friend was right, but letting his anger go, even for a moment, was too terrifying to consider. Anger was what had kept him alive, the spark that drove him to survive, to return home. What was he without it?
He changed the subject. “Let’s go to Tattersall’s.”
Vincent’s dark eyes ran over Kit in concern, but he said nothing more.
Tattersall’s auctioneering yard, created expressly for the sale of horses at Hyde Park Corner. Good horses—or prime bits of blood, as they were called by those who frequented the yards—were sold to the highest bidder. Kit had loved coming here with his father. They used to stroll through the auctioneering yard which consisted of dozens of stables, loose boxes, and an enclosure for watching the thoroughbreds be put through their paces. They’d come here the week before he’d been arrested. Christ, it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. Yet even after seven years, Tattersall’s was much the same, and somehow that pricked Kit’s heart.
A black stallion was in the yard, bucking madly as several grooms desperately tried to calm the beast.
“Bleedin’ bo-kickers,” an older groom bellowed as he barely missed a kick from the stallion’s back hooves. Several mares in an enclosure nearby shifted restlessly as the black horse railed against the control of the men who held his halter ropes.
“Beautiful beast, isn’t he?” Vincent asked, clearly in awe of the raging animal.
“Yes, but they will never sell him unless they can calm him down,” Kit said, falling easily back into the familiar patterns of his time laboring on the ranches in Australia. He had learned more about horses there than he had in his entire life in England.
“Ho there!” He ran forward to the enclosure gates and shouted at the grooms. “You need to calm him.”
“You think we dinna ken that?” the old groom snapped. “The mad beast has lost his head.”
Kit turned his attention to the group of mares. He vaulted over the railing to reach the group, where two fresh-faced lads held their leading ropes.
“Let me see this one.” He took the reins of a dappled gray mare that was standing much more calmly than the others. The young man let Kit take the leading rope.
“Come on, sweetheart. Time to tame that beast.” He walked the mare toward the panicky stallion, then he shouted for the grooms to let the stallion go. The grooms dropped the leads and fled the enclosure with relief. The stallion reared up menacingly as he saw the mare and Kit approaching him. The mare’s withers quivered, but Kit spoke reassuringly to her.
“He’s frightened. Show him how to settle down,” Kit urged the mare. She nickered softly and allowed Kit to lead her toward the stallion.
The stallion tossed his head and weaved his body about as he danced uncomfortably while trying to assess the mare. When the mare drew close to him, he tried to bite her neck, but she dodged the bite and butted his flank with her head and then tossed her mane as if trying to show that she wasn’t afraid but wasn’t challenging him either.
“Clever girl.” Kit stepped back, letting the mare move freely. She trotted along the stallion’s side as they moved about the enclosure. She did not let the stallion misbehave again. Each time he tried to nip her, she herded him against the railing, and he was forced to focus on where he was moving lest he run into the wooden walls of the enclosure. Eventually he settled down, and the pair trotted side by side in long, sweeping circles. The mare was almost as tall as the stallion but slightly daintier in appearance.
