Mr. Howland’s voice softened. “What’s wrong with being a lady?”
“I—” Nadine broke off because she saw Puck inside the armoire. She turned her back to the cabinet. “All right! I’ll ride the damned horses. Maybe I can find one with a 4 x 4 transmission.”
“Now that’s my girl. Go put on something expensive and work your charms on the earl and his lily-white son. I have to go.” He looked around. “I can’t stand this place. That guy downstairs is playing the piano again.”
“It’s his own composition. Someday Byon will be—”
“I’ve heard it before. He’s going to be famous. When you run this place, you can have him over for fish and chips. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hurried out of the room.
Puck held her breath. She didn’t know how Nadine would react to having someone eavesdrop on her private conversation.
Nadine threw the armoire door open, then walked away.
Puck grabbed the pile of shawls and stepped out. “I—”
Nadine threw up her hand. “Don’t explain why you were hiding in there. I’m sure it has to do with Nicky and Byon. You’re their own little elf running their errands. But I’m glad to have a witness to what I have to put up with. Here.” She thrust money at Puck. “Give this to the man in the stables. Tell him he’s to teach me how to ride a horse—like a lady does. Maybe I should be glad my father isn’t insisting that I ride sidesaddle.”
Puck shoved the fifty-pound notes deep into her pocket. It was more money than she’d ever seen before. “Sean is a good teacher.”
“What?” Nadine turned on her.
“Sean Thorpe. The groomsman. He’s nice. He takes care of people.”
Nadine was twenty-one years old and extraordinarily pretty. Her dark hair was always perfect and she wore clothes like in a magazine. She looked at Puck in speculation. “I’ve seen him enough to know that he thinks he’s God’s gift. He hasn’t tried anything with you, has he?”
At first Puck had no idea what she meant. Then she thought, Like the boys at school? She couldn’t help a tiny smile. “No, he hasn’t.”
Nadine caught Puck’s meaning and she smiled back. “Go on, give him the money and set something up for tomorrow. Make it a gentle horse. I don’t want to land on my backside in the dirt.”
“I’m sure Sean will be gentle with you.”
When Nadine laughed, Puck wasn’t sure why. She ran down the stairs.
Nicky was sitting on the bottom step, waiting for her. The sound of Byon’s playing filled the hallway.
“Take this,” Nicky said softly and handed her a six-page legal document. “Find Diana and give it to her.”
She took one end of the papers but he held on.
“Diana needs to go over this, but no one must see her do it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want my father to know that Diana reads about estate business. And Clive’s not to know. Especially not him. Understand?”
“I do,” Puck said, and Nicky released the papers. She stuck them in the waistband of her pants and pulled her shirt down. No one would see that she was carrying anything.
Nicky stood up. “Thanks, kid. You’re the only person around here I can truly trust. I wish I could repay you. I’d wave a magic wand and give you three wishes.”
“I don’t need anything,” Puck managed to say. Her face was crimson with pleasure and embarrassment.
“How about a place to hide from your mother?”
At that delightful thought, Puck’s laugh rang out.
“I heard that!” Byon called from around the corner, then he tried—and failed—to replicate her laugh on the piano.
“Go!” Nicky said, and Puck began running.
She had a way to get to the stables so no one could see her from the house. She knew her mother kept watch. If Puck were seen, she’d be given more household chores to do. And if she said that she had to run an errand for Nicky, her mother would demand to see the papers Puck carried. Her mother would read them, then she’d talk to Nicky about them, then...
Puck didn’t want to follow that train of thought. If someone else got hold of the papers, she’d never be trusted again—and she liked being trusted. Liked having a job to do besides chopping onions.
She heard Nicky’s father before she saw him. She knew she was supposed to call him “my lord” but she’d never been able to make herself do it. When she was a toddler, she’d called him Bertie and he’d liked it. Her mother had forbidden her to continue using the name, but Puck hadn’t stopped. Around other people, she referred to him as “Nicky’s father.” In the evenings, when the man was mellow from too much drink, she still called him Bertie.
Diana and he were together, as usual. Both of them were horse mad.
One night Byon had done a parody of the two of them talking. It consisted of snorts and lip flutters and pawing at the earth. It ended with the stallion trying to mount the mare, but she was too strong for him. She much preferred the young stallion, who was played by Nicky.
They all applauded and laughed hard at the little play. It was Nadine who asked if Nicky was playing himself as the winning stallion or was it the dark, handsome groomsman?
Nicky had not liked that! It took work on Byon’s part to talk him back into a good mood.
Puck wasn’t supposed to have seen any of that. The parody had been played well past her bedtime, but it had been put on in the central hallway and there was a balcony running around the top, a place where she could easily hide. Puck sometimes wondered if Byon put his plays on there because he knew he had a wider audience. She wasn’t the only one who hid in the shadows to see his entertainments.
At the stables, she stood in the shadows and listened.
“He’s beautiful,” Diana said as she stroked the horse’s nose. She had a deep, throaty voice. She was midheight, sturdy, all muscle as she liked to say. Her hair was short and blond, and she was pretty, but in a “best pal” way. Nothing about her was like Nadine, which was probably why they were good friends. No competition.
“He is gorgeous!” Bertie said. “I wish penny-pinching Clive could see that. Wish he could understand that a person has to spend money to make it. This boy is going to win! I can feel it.”
“You’re probably right,” Diana said. “He certainly has the proportions of a winner. Those legs are magnificent.”
Bertie gave a loud sigh. “Bringing you here is the best thing that son of mine has ever done.”