be – if this Dolly Dobbs vehicle performed well – graciously received by His Majesty, whomight well learn from her the story of how he had earlier been deprived of that privilege. Depending on his mood, he might laugh or he might dismiss Isabel from his court for ever. And
that
wasn’t going to happen.
‘Darling, where are you?’ Hugh’s voice whispered in her ear.
Isabel was suddenly aware that she was wasting precious minutes of Hugh’s foreplay, all because of that woman, and exerted herself to show due appreciation as became her role of sultry and seductive mistress.
‘Nonsense.’ Hester smiled fondly at Roderick. ‘I know you are as impatient as I am. Let it be today.’ She used the look that had melted hearts from the Euphrates to the Yukaton.
For once Roderick was less than eager. His eye strayed to Phyllis Lockwood who was forlornly twirling her parasol and talking to Sir Algernon Bullinger, a far from animated conversationalist. Hester’s eye strayed that way too, and her ill temper increased. Victories should be consolidated, whether in hill climbs or personal life. ‘I shall think you are regretting wanting to marry me if we don’t announce it today.’
Roderick was horrified. ‘Never,
never
.’ What, do without those exquisitely tormenting tricks of Hester’s? He had, however, drawn the line at having his johnnie stung by a bee before he began. He’d had many interesting amorous experiences during his racing career but Hester had crowned them all; she was the Queen who had conquered the Desert of his Life, as he had romantically put it to her. No, he couldn’t let her go. With some effort, he turned his back on Phyllis and devoted himself to Hester who was now talking to Tatiana. With ladies, even princesses, Hester used less charm than with gentlemen.
‘I’m still prepared to join your committee,’ she informed Tatiana challengingly.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible this year now the vote has been taken.’ Tatiana tried to look regretful.
Auguste, watching with some anxiety from his privileged position behind the
pièce montée
(in the shape of a car), saw Hester’s lips tighten. It was fortunate he was not close enough to hear Hester’s reply to his wife: ‘You are right to be afraid, Your Highness.’
‘I am among friends,’ snarled Hester from a rostrum conveniently provided by a grassy bank. Hugh had agreed she might address the assembly albeit somewhat ungraciously, but her ‘friends’ were congregating extremely slowly. ‘Under the stars, under an Arabian sky, how often have I longed for England’s green fields—’
To Auguste’s delight, Hester’s address was abruptly terminated by what seemed to be a cloud of dust travelling up the drive, emitting war whoops. As the dust cleared, he saw it was caused by a dozen or so horses galloping at full stretch, led by what appeared to be Buffalo Bill himself in front, with Annie Oakley at his side. All dozen riders were brandishing placards like tomahawks, all reading ‘Down With the Dolly Dobbs’. The Hams had arrived to save the day.
‘Listen to me,’ Hester shouted in vain as the troop drew to a halt and her audience was surrounded by a circle of horses and dismounting riders in Wild West costume. All save Buffalo Bill himself who, much to Hortensia’s surprise, promptly if inexpertly tried to hide behind his charger.
Auguste hurried forward just as Hester spotted John Millward. ‘Have you yet taken tea?’ he inquired politely, edging between Hester and her prey.
Hortensia grinned at him. ‘Good fodder, is it?’
‘Both for you, madam, and the horses.’
‘Any old
foie gras
will do for me. Then lead me to this Dolly monster.’
Auguste began to like Hortensia. ‘I’m afraid Dolly stayed at home.’
‘Never mind,’ she replied cheerfully. ‘We’ll puncture some tyres instead.’
‘Stop trying to hide, John,’ Hester Hart said grimly.
Buffalo Bill bravely emerged from behind his horse.
that
wasn’t going to happen.
‘Darling, where are you?’ Hugh’s voice whispered in her ear.
Isabel was suddenly aware that she was wasting precious minutes of Hugh’s foreplay, all because of that woman, and exerted herself to show due appreciation as became her role of sultry and seductive mistress.
‘Nonsense.’ Hester smiled fondly at Roderick. ‘I know you are as impatient as I am. Let it be today.’ She used the look that had melted hearts from the Euphrates to the Yukaton.
For once Roderick was less than eager. His eye strayed to Phyllis Lockwood who was forlornly twirling her parasol and talking to Sir Algernon Bullinger, a far from animated conversationalist. Hester’s eye strayed that way too, and her ill temper increased. Victories should be consolidated, whether in hill climbs or personal life. ‘I shall think you are regretting wanting to marry me if we don’t announce it today.’
Roderick was horrified. ‘Never,
never
.’ What, do without those exquisitely tormenting tricks of Hester’s? He had, however, drawn the line at having his johnnie stung by a bee before he began. He’d had many interesting amorous experiences during his racing career but Hester had crowned them all; she was the Queen who had conquered the Desert of his Life, as he had romantically put it to her. No, he couldn’t let her go. With some effort, he turned his back on Phyllis and devoted himself to Hester who was now talking to Tatiana. With ladies, even princesses, Hester used less charm than with gentlemen.
‘I’m still prepared to join your committee,’ she informed Tatiana challengingly.
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible this year now the vote has been taken.’ Tatiana tried to look regretful.
Auguste, watching with some anxiety from his privileged position behind the
pièce montée
(in the shape of a car), saw Hester’s lips tighten. It was fortunate he was not close enough to hear Hester’s reply to his wife: ‘You are right to be afraid, Your Highness.’
‘I am among friends,’ snarled Hester from a rostrum conveniently provided by a grassy bank. Hugh had agreed she might address the assembly albeit somewhat ungraciously, but her ‘friends’ were congregating extremely slowly. ‘Under the stars, under an Arabian sky, how often have I longed for England’s green fields—’
To Auguste’s delight, Hester’s address was abruptly terminated by what seemed to be a cloud of dust travelling up the drive, emitting war whoops. As the dust cleared, he saw it was caused by a dozen or so horses galloping at full stretch, led by what appeared to be Buffalo Bill himself in front, with Annie Oakley at his side. All dozen riders were brandishing placards like tomahawks, all reading ‘Down With the Dolly Dobbs’. The Hams had arrived to save the day.
‘Listen to me,’ Hester shouted in vain as the troop drew to a halt and her audience was surrounded by a circle of horses and dismounting riders in Wild West costume. All save Buffalo Bill himself who, much to Hortensia’s surprise, promptly if inexpertly tried to hide behind his charger.
Auguste hurried forward just as Hester spotted John Millward. ‘Have you yet taken tea?’ he inquired politely, edging between Hester and her prey.
Hortensia grinned at him. ‘Good fodder, is it?’
‘Both for you, madam, and the horses.’
‘Any old
foie gras
will do for me. Then lead me to this Dolly monster.’
Auguste began to like Hortensia. ‘I’m afraid Dolly stayed at home.’
‘Never mind,’ she replied cheerfully. ‘We’ll puncture some tyres instead.’
‘Stop trying to hide, John,’ Hester Hart said grimly.
Buffalo Bill bravely emerged from behind his horse.
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