The Bride Absconded (closed for cumnchat)

As soon as Sir Roger mentioned children Clarissa let slip what sounded to him like a surprised gasp,

'Children?'

Then she tried to change the subject by offering to show him the servant's quarters and the stables but he wasn't so easily diverted and drew her closer to him with his arm around her slim waist, he looked down at her keenly and asked,

"You seem surprised at my mention of children, surely you did not think that I would not want children? They bring great joy to their parents in the main and one must not forget the pleasure obtained in the making of them."

He smiled as he spoke about the pleasure of making babies and his member stiffened in his breeches and made its presence known pressed against her belly. He continued,

"You were not to know but I am the last of a long line of DeCoverlys and I wish for that line to be continued so it will be your duty to give me a son. Now, it is known that some women produce nothing but daughters if you are of that ilk then it will be my duty to my family name to keep breeding you until you provide me with a son."

Having said his piece he released her,

"Lead on to the stables Clarissa my dear."

You seem surprised at my mention of children, surely you did not think that I would not want children? They bring great joy to their parents in the main and one must not forget the pleasure obtained in the making of them.

She felt movement against her stomach and knew exactly what it was. And despite her attempt at controlling her reactions, she knew that her face was coloring.

You were not to know but I am the last of a long line of DeCoverlys and I wish for that line to be continued so it will be your duty to give me a son. Now, it is known that some women produce nothing but daughters if you are of that ilk then it will be my duty to my family name to keep breeding you until you provide me with a son.

‘I shall cheerfully kill my Father!’ She though to herself.

Lead on to the stables Clarissa my dear.

Pulling away from the man, she headed towards the stables. She could hear the sound of hooves on the cobbled floors. Willie, the Groom, was busy mucking out a stall. Hearing them enter, he stuck his head out and greeted her.

“Lady Fernwood, Thunder has been groomed and had his oats.”

“Thank you, Willie.” She hesitated a moment. Might as well get this over with. “Willie, this is Sir DeCoverly. He...he is my...my fiancé and I am sure that as we will be living here after the wedding, he shall be bringing his horses over here.”

She was angry at being put in this uncomfortable position and turned to leave Sir DeCoverly and Willie to work out the details.

Thunder stomped in his stall and she knew that her horse was aware that she was nearby. She reached in her pocket and drew out a lump of sugar. The horse snorted and took the sugar from her outstretched hand and she scratched his nose. She loved her horse.

Sir Roger and Willie the groom conversed about the horses that would be stabled at Fernwood house and their requirements, Willie was most agreeable with what Sir Roger told him and seemed excited at the prospect of having more thoroughbreds to take care of. The conversation drifted to more general terms and Sir Roger asked,

"Does Lady Clarissa ride often?"

"Every morning M'Lord." He replied. Then he added in an almost conspiratorial tone.

"She don't always ride like a lady though."

"REALLY?" asked Sir Roger raising a questioning eyebrow, "Then how does she ride?"

Willie looked around as if not wanting to be overheard, "Well, M'Lord sometimes she'll ride Thunder bareback an' not sidesaddle as befits a lady if you gets ma meaning, I suspect she craves the feeling of hard muscle between her legs."

They were both unaware of Clarissa in the next stall, able to hear every word.

"I take your meaning Willie and although you should not speak of Lady Fernwood like that, it may well be true, when we are married I intend to find out for myself."

Willie apologised profusely for speaking out of turn like he had but Sir Roger clapped him on the back and said heartily,

"Think nothing of it you have possibly done me a great favour but do not EVER speak of her like that again or I shall be most displeased and give you a good whipping."

Willie cringed at the thought of getting a whipping from the likes of Sir Roger.

"No M'Lord, of course not M'Lord."

DeCoverly left the stables and found Clarissa waiting outside for him with an enraged look on her face.

"What is it, Clarissa? Are you angry that I have not tried to kiss you today? If so that can easily be remedied."

He held her hands above her head and kissed her soundly his tongue just probing between her lips and their bodies close together and his manhood, hard and stiff pressing on her thigh over her dress.

When he released her he smiled and asked "Does that make you feel better? My ardour has not decreased one iota."

In the next stall, Clarissa overheard every word spoken by both men. And she was outraged! How dare Willie speak about his employer in such a way. And how dare the man that was to marry her be so disrespectful of her. If there was not so much at stake, she was tempted to tell him that the entire thing was off.

She was one to usually flaunt impropriety but not in such a coarse and vulgar way.

She left the stables and waited outside for Sir Roger. And she was still steaming and quite angry when he finally appeared.

What is it, Clarissa? Are you angry that I have not tried to kiss you today? If so that can easily be remedied.

And with those words his strong hands took hold of her hands and held them above her head. It was an uncomfortable position and she struggled as he kissed her, his tongue attempting to probe between her lips but she clenched her teeth so he could go no further. If he thought that she was impressed, she wasn’t. She was not happy at being talked about or about being man handled.

And she was certainly aware of his manhood pressing against her. She still wore her riding clothes, dusty and with grass stains and dirt smudges. As he pulled away, she noted with satisfaction that some of the dirt had transferred to his immaculate clothes.

Does that make you feel better? My ardour has not decreased one iota.

Taking a deep breath, she did her best to keep her temper in check. “Such crude demonstrations do not impress me in the least, Sir DeCoverly. They merely point out to me your lack of breeding. Nice clothes do not necessarily make a gentleman. I do believe that I have shown you the Estate and its immediate grounds. If you will excuse me Sir DeCoverly, I have business to attend to. Good day, Sir.”

And with those words she turn and left the man standing there. Back in the Stables, she went in search of Willie, finding him mucking out another stall.

“Willie!”

“Yes, your Ladyship?”

“Do you like your job? Happy with it?”

The man looked a bit confused but answered her. “Yes, Lady Fernwood.”

“Well, that is good to know though I would not have thought so from the way I heard you discussing me to Sir DeCoverly!” The man colored and looked somewhat ashamed at having been caught. “If you would like to keep your job, then I suggest that you keep your thoughts about the way that I ride Thunder to yourself or you shall be looking for work elsewhere. Do I make myself clear?” It was obvious from her tone and manner that she meant exactly what she said.

“Yes, Lady Fernwood.”

The frost of Clarissa words almost dropped the temperature of the stables and Willie would swear that he could see Lady Fernwood’s breath as she spoke.

Whirling around, she headed for the house. With the mood that she was in, now was the time to let her Father know exactly what she was going to do to him. And she was sure of what he would say about Sir DeCoverly’s arrangement of the rooms.

This was going to be interesting.

Sir Roger spent the next couple of hours wandering around the estate, he was thoughtfully thinking of Clarissa and wondering what sort of bedmate she would make and a slow smile crept over his face as he remembered how fiery and spirited she was, he thought if she was as spirited in bed then life between the sheets would never be dull. He hadn't been able to actually feel her out but the once or twice that he had held her to him told him that under the dirty riding habit that she seemed to wear as some sort of uniform declaring herself as uncaring of other's opinion of her there was a body that would bear closer inspection. He hadn't seen her in a formal dress that most females wore to display their wares but he would persuade Lord Fernwood to insist that everyone including Clarissa should dress for dinner. He would sit opposite her this time in order that he could observe her more fully without making it obvious.

He was under no illusions as to how difficult it was going to be to tame her, however, he had no intention of ridding her of her fiery spirit, he enjoyed the challenge, much as he enjoyed the challenge of taming an unbroken horse be it a colt or as in Clarissa's case, a filly.

He sought out Lord Fernwood and found him in his study perusing some legal papers,

"Ah there you are Wilford, you don't mind if I call you Wilford do you? Ah I thought not, a son in law should not be calling his father in law, Lord, especially when said son in law is the Lord of the manor. I have called upon you to announce that I will be staying for dinner. I have brought a change of clothes and think it would be most respectful if we all dressed in our finest. I am certain that Clarissa will capture my heart yet again."

He gave Lord Fernwood no chance to reply and left the poor man speechless.

“He what!” Clarissa fairly exploded as her father informed her of Sir Roger’s desires. “And does this man think that he gets everything that he wants.”

Her Father fidgeted, clearing his throat and pacing nervously. “Now, Clarissa, remember. If we do not do as he asks, then we are both out on the street. And you won’t even have Thunder with you.” He kept glancing nervously at his daughter.

“I am tempted to get on Thunder and ride as fast and far as possible and leave you here to explain everything to that man.

“Please, Clarissa. He has already taken away my suite. Don’t make things worse.”

“You got exactly what you deserved! And now I have to be the fatted calf. My hand in marriage! Did you think so little of me? And my inheritance? Fernwood has been in the family for over 200 years and with the turn of a card, that ends. So only if I now marry the man...” She gave her father a glaring stare. “And a man that only seems to know how to man handle me. Please don’t say that he plans on spending the night. If he says something about it tonight, it is up to you to come up with an excuse that he can’t stay. Do you understand? Try being a man for once. After the wedding there will be no getting rid of him.”

Never mind that she didn’t want to eat with the man. This time she had to dress. All the skirt and bustle and drapes of fabric. The lace bodice and sleeves too. She tried to fix her hair but the maid that helped her dress took over, trying to put some semblance of order to her hair. The hair won and her hair, though piled on her head, remained wild and untamable. There was a stubborn set to her mouth and she had told herself that tonight she would keep as much distance as possible between Sir DeCoverly and herself.

*****

Clarissa’s dress

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/19/a7/ce/...2742cc4--vintage-dresses-vintage-clothing.jpg

Sir Roger tapped his fingers impatiently on the dining table, they had been waiting almost fifteen minutes for Clarissa to put in an appearance and join them for dinner. He was not a patient man and he glowered over the table at Lord Fernwood who shifted uncomfortably in his chair,

"I am sure Clarissa will not be long now, I suspect she is making sure that she meets with your approval, Sir Roger." He ventured by way of an apology.

"What would meet with my approval is for your daughter to be on time and not keep me waiting." He snapped and took a large draught of his wine and reached out to refill the goblet.

The doors opened and Clarissa stomped in, she did not walk or glide as a lady would but actually stomped her face stern. There was no word of apology as she sat down next to her father, on the opposite side of the table to Sir Roger.

"Good of you to finally join us,"

Sir Roger said sarcastically as he studied her. To tell the truth he was impressed, this was the first time he had seen her in anything different to her dirty stained riding habit and he decided it was a great improvement as the riding habit did not display her figure as well as the dress she wore. Her waist was slim and her bust was full, not overlarge but full all the same.

"I do like your freckles Clarissa, they give your countenance character," His eyes drifted down to her bosom and the abundance of freckles gathered there and he remarked with a smile on his face,

"I see that they are not confined to just your face, I wonder where else those delightful freckles lie."

He chuckled quietly as Clarissa's face burned in embarrassment. His thoughts turned to seeing her naked for he was sure that she sported them all over.

For the most part, the meal was eaten in silence as Lord Fernwood was reluctant to say anything that might anger either Sir Roger or his daughter, he was, in fact, more frightened of his daughter than Sir Roger, Clarissa and Sir Roger glared at each other in frosty silence.

As the meal drew to a close Sir Roger dabbed his lips with a linen napkin and announced the meal to be very fine and mentioned to Clarissa,

"I see you have some cream from Mrs Dumpling's excellent trifle on your lips perhaps you will allow me to remove it for you with a kiss."

Then seeming to forget about it he suddenly asked Lord Fernwood,

"I see you own a harpsichord, do you play?"

Lord Fernwood admitted that he did, in fact, play a little.

"Excellent, then you shall play while I and my bride-to-be dance together."

There was no escaping Sir Roger's insistence and Lord Fernwood played a waltz and Sir Roger took Clarissa in his arms his hand on her trim waist and gently pulling her against him, he towered over her and smiled down at her,

"This a nice way for a man to get to know his wife, other than actually lying together I can think of nothing better."

Then he bent his head and licked some cream from her lips that she had missed.

It was not a happy Clarissa that entered the dining room. She was not aware of stomping but in her mind, she was still in her riding togs and she was definitely not pleased that DeCoverly was still here come the end of the day. Soon enough she would not be able to get rid of the man at all. He would be here on a permanent basis and she would be married to him.

She had never really been comfortable in dresses. Growing up, she had always been more of what was known as a tomboy, playing hoop and stick or with her Father’s toy soldiers when she wasn’t riding horses around the paddocks. Which was probably another reason that Lady Monteith found her unsuitable.

As she sat down in the empty chair, DeCoverly’s mocking words came to her.

Good of you to finally join us

Glaring at him, she felt his eyes on her and stared back at him, lifting her chin in defiance. She could see his gaze taking in her décolletage.

I do like your freckles Clarissa, they give your countenance character

A smile flitted across his face.

I see that they are not confined to just your face, I wonder where else those delightful freckles lie.

Her face flushed bright red, as did her neck and chest. In an effort to stop talking, she concentrated upon her food. Mrs. Dumpling had worked hard to outdo herself on such short notice. Thankfully her Father kept his mouth shut for she was afraid that if he had spent the meal filling it with his inane chatter, she might be forced to commit patricide.

I see you have some cream from Mrs Dumpling's excellent trifle on your lips perhaps you will allow me to remove it for you with a kiss.

Then before she had a chance to remove it, DeCoverly made mention of the harpsichord and Clarissa rolled her eyes in frustration. Father had harbored ridiculous notions of a daughter that would play. That was not about to happen. Her Father knew how to play - that was enough as far as Clarissa was concerned.

Excellent then you shall play while I and my bride to be dance together.

Before she could complain, he came around and took her hand and led her into the music room where the instrument sat. She had tried to remove her hand from his grasp, but he held onto it tightly. Father sat at the keys and made a great deal about limbering up his fingers. She tried to make good her escape but DeCoverly quickly grabbed her about the waist and held her tightly against him.

This a nice way for a man to get to know his wife, other than actually lying together I can think of nothing better.

She was quite taken aback when he bent down and licked her lips, causing her to blush furiously. For one so tall, she was quite surprised at how well the man danced. In fact, he was much better at it than she was. Of course, that was not saying much as Clarissa did not dance that well. Just enough to get by.

As they danced, she could feel the warmth of his body pressed against hers. Such intimacy embarrassed her but he just grinned at her.

Occasionally she would shoot an angry glare to her Father. The man was off in his own world, playing one song after another until finally she had enough.

“Father! Enough. It is late and Sir DeCoverly has his ride home. And I am tired.”

“Oh, yes, yes, Clarissa. You are quite right. Let me call for your horse, Sir Roger. This has been a delightful evening,” Lord Fernwood lied.

'Father! Enough. It is late and Sir DeCoverly has his ride home. And I am tired.'

'Oh, yes, yes, Clarissa. You are quite right. Let me call for your horse, Sir Roger. This has been a delightful evening,'

"Do not bother calling for my horse Wilford, as you say it has been quite a delightful evening but I am also tired and would not wish to fall asleep on my way home and fall off my horse, so, may I impose on your hospitality and stay the night?"

Lord Fernwood remembered Clarissa's words and tried to dissuade Sir Roger, saying

"But we do not have a room prepared for such a distinguished guest as yourself, the only bed we have is in the attic."

Sir Roger looked thoughtful for a moment then his face brightened,

"During our tour of the house this morning I took the liberty of trying out your bed in anticipation of when Clarissa and I move into what is, for now, your room Wilford, I found it to be most comfortable so if you could extend your hospitality to taking the attic room I would be most grateful for the use of your bed."

He spoke with such sincerity that Lord Fernwood felt obliged to agree.

"Of course Roger, why did I not think of that myself?"

He even felt embarrassed at addressing his guest by his first name and glanced nervously at Clarissa who glared ominously at him.

"That's settled then, I thank you again, Wilford, for your generosity. Perhaps I could escort Clarissa to her bedchamber and she can point me in the right direction to mine, for the house is a veritable warren of passages and I may get lost."

He held Clarissa's arm and led her from the music room whispering to her.

"Your father's generosity knows no bounds, first he gives you to me and now his bed, it is clear he understands who is master now."

It was like a disaster slowly happening before her eyes. Weak willed Father couldn’t grow a backbone fast enough to outsmart DeCoverly. He stammered and waffled and then proceeded to come up with a totally useless excuse. She would have told him that she just didn’t want the man there.

And then he wormed his way into the master suite and Father wound up where he probably deserved to be, in a room in the attic. At least Father had the decency to look embarrassed as DeCoverly proceeded to lead her away from him.

That's settled then, I thank you again, Wilford, for your generosity. Perhaps I could escort Clarissa to her bedchamber and she can point me in the right direction to mine, for the house is a veritable warren of passages and I may get lost.

And with those words he took her by the arm and led her upstairs.

Your father's generosity knows no bounds, first he gives you to me and now his bed, it is clear he understands who is master now.

“I wouldn’t say that so much as he has been outmaneuver by a bigger pettifogger than himself. For all of your chicanery, you do not fool me, Sir DeCoverly. In fact, it would not surprise me if your title was one merely won in a game of chance rather than passed down from your ancestors.”

They reached the door to her quarters.

“As to needing the way pointed to where you plan on sleeping tonight, you don’t fool me. You know full well the way to the Master suite and do not need my help in finding the way. And just for the record, I sleep with a gun and am not afraid to use it. If you think that I’m joking, just ask Father where he got that nick on his left ear. Good night and good bye.”

Sir Roger was not accustomed to being dismissed as disdainfully as Clarissa just did and as she turned to open the door to her bedchamber he held her with his hand around her waist almost encircling it with one hand, he pulled her back against him and allowed his free hand to brush over her breast.

"We don't have to say goodnight just yet Clarissa, your father is out of earshot and I am sure the servants are too frightened of you to say anything. You could invite me into your bedchamber for a while if not your bed, whereas if you would like to share your father's bed with me I will make you most welcome, and for your information, I too have a gun which is cocked and loaded."

He nuzzled her bare neck and sucked the flesh, gently drawing her closer as he turned her round to face him and he kissed her firmly.

Before she could reach the doorknob, his large hand took hold of her around her waist and drew her back against him. She felt the heat from his hand as it brushed across her breast as if by accident. She gave a small gasp as he whispered in her ear.

We don't have to say goodnight just yet Clarissa, your father is out of earshot and I am sure the servants are too frightened of you to say anything. You could invite me into your bedchamber for a while if not your bed, whereas if you would like to share your father's bed with me I will make you most welcome, and for your information, I too have a gun which is cocked and loaded.

His lips on the back of her neck made her stomach do flips. She felt lightheaded from what he was doing up her and it took several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down. She well understood his implications, the invitation that she was determined not to accept until there were no other options. She had heard of too many young ladies that had given in to such desires only to be left in ruins. Her reputation was bad enough that she did not need this man’s help.

“I am not a cheap woman, Sir DeCoverly. As always, there is a price to pay. I think that you know my price.”

Then he turned her around and kissed her. It was not the usual kiss that he had been giving her her. No, this seemed to be a searching kiss, reaching deep into her and she used every ounce of willpower to gather her wits and push against his chest with both hands. Gulping for air, Clarissa turned away. Her voice trembled a bit as she spoke softly to him.

“I’m sure that you know your way to your suite. Good night, Sir.” This time she managed to escape his clutches as she slipped inside her room and locked the door behind her. Leaning against that door, she waited, holding her breath, until she heard him walk away.

Her knees felt weak and she had to sit down for a moment before preparing for bed. Suddenly she had a feeling that she was fighting a losing battle. And Clarissa never lost. Till now.

Sir Roger sauntered back to what had once been Lord Fernwood's bedchamber, he felt he had made a little progress with Clarissa, her father, the old fool had no backbone and would refuse him nothing if prodded, Clarissa, however, was a different proposition altogether, she was everything her father was not but she had one weak spot, no, she had two, he had discovered one outside her bedchamber. She would deny it vehemently he had no doubt if he were to put it to her in words, but it was plain to him that she liked his kisses, her breathing increased rapidly each time he kissed her and tonight she couldn't get away quick enough in case she might succumb to him. He remembered the brief feel of her breast and the soft fullness of it: when the time came he would take his time with her and savour every delicious inch of her.

One thing puzzled him though, she spoke of everything having a price and her not being cheap, also that he knew what her price was, as far he was concerned only whores had a price and he was certain that Clarissa was no whore. He doubted that she had ever seen a real man's cock, perhaps he should give her the opportunity.

He undressed and drifted off to sleep in his future father-in-law's bed and dreamt of the fair Clarissa in his arms.

Around 2 in the morning, the only stirring in the estate seemed to be the huge clock in the entryway. In the shadowy hall upstairs, a door silently opened as a dark figure tiptoed along. Reaching the staircase, the figure descended the steps, seeming to move from side to side as if avoiding squeaky steps.

The shadowy form reached the front door and slowly opened it, stepping outside and quietly closing the door after it.



Clarissa took a deep breath and hefted her bag to the other hand before heading for the stables, walking on the grass instead of the gravel drive. Once at the stables, she was careful not to make noise as she walked on the cobblestones, the smell of hay reached her nose.

Thunder gave a soft ninny in greeting to her. It did not take her long to saddle the horse as she had done so many times before. She tied the knapsack on the back of the saddle before walking him out of his stall and through the stable. The horse was impatient to get started and she wanted to keep him quiet if at all possible.

Just to be safe, she avoided riding Thunder until she had walked him some distance from the estate before she swung up into the saddle. She wore her riding clothes and carried a change of clothes in her bag, along with some other incidentals.

Thunder seemed to know that this was important. He snorted his approval before he took off, long legs stretching out to quickly cover the ground. Trees and pasture rapidly whizzed by.

She felt as if a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders, and as the wind whipped through her hair, she leaned down to whisper in Thunder’s ear.

“We’re free, old boy. Free like the wind.” Thunder seemed to snort his approval as the two of them tore along the lane. By the time that the sun was coming up and the Fernwood household was stirring, Clarissa was hours away. She almost wished she could see the look on Sir Roger DeCoverly’s face when he finally figured out that she had left. He thought that no woman could resist him. Well, here she was, the one that could resist Sir DeCoverly.

Sir Roger DeCoverly woke feeling very pleased with himself after his evening with Clarissa and holding her in his arms as they danced and then he had walked her to her bedchamber and although he had failed to gain an invitation into her bedchamber he had stolen another most satisfying kiss that had left them both breathless with its intensity. He was looking forward to spending the whole day in her company and taking a picnic to that same clearing by the lake, where, he hoped to lay her on her back and explore beneath her riding habit and find the extent of her freckles that adorned her sweet face and upper chest.

He ate a hearty but leisurely breakfast waiting for Clarissa to put in an appearance so he could tease her and charm her. The time dragged on so he asked for Clarissa's maid to be sent to him,

"Does something ail your mistress that she has not yet risen from her bed?"

"No Sir," she replied with downcast eyes, "Her bed has not been slept in and she is nowhere to be found. There was a note Sir that said I was to say nothing until asked Sir, I think that was so I did not have to lie to you Sir, but I think she may be gone, Sir."

Sir Roger could not believe his ears,

"GONE? Gone where may I ask? When will she be back?"

Lord Fernwood stood in the doorway looking tired and frazzled,

"If I know my daughter at all Sir Roger, she will be in no hurry to return,,,, if she intends to return at all."

"What do you mean by that, Wilford?" he demanded, fearing the answer.

"I believe she has fled because she does not wish to marry you or anyone else for that matter, she is as stubborn as a mule and has refused to budge on the matter despite my pleading with her."

"You pleaded with her? Good Lord man, can you not TELL your daughter what she must do? I have been promised her hand in marriage in eleven days time and I will have it even if I have to travel the length of the country to find her. Think carefully Lord Fernwood for your future as well may depend on my finding her, where would she go? Does she have any money that she can obtain?"

Lord Fernwood tried desperately to think, he thought only of his own future and what it might mean for him if his daughter was not found in time, he would be cast out of his family home, penniless and homeless, it did not bear thinking about.

"I remember some time ago we visited Epsom races and Clarissa being young at the time said that one day she intended to ride Thunder in one of the races that were open to all and with a considerable sum in prize money so it is possible that she may try her luck there."

"Very well Wilford I will ride there this very day and you had better pray that you are right. 'Tis not too far, a matter of thirty miles, so three hours or so will see me there."

Within the hour Sir Roger had arranged a knapsack of food and saddled his mount and was on his way. As he approached the Downs there was a steady stream of riders and carriages going in the same direction. The venue came into sight, a carnival atmosphere in the air with colourful tents and various entertainers lining the road.

Sir Roger sought out the clerk of the course who took all the entries for the races and the necessary entry fee of two guineas.

"My good man, do you have any open races today? My niece has an interest in riding her own horse by the name of Thunder,"

"I have had such a young lady asking if she could ride but it seems she could not pay the entry fee so, the dammed cheek of the girl, she said if she did not win I could keep the steed. 'Tis a fine looking animal to be sure but as I told her, most of the riders are very experienced and not above using underhand tricks, anyway, I took her at her word and she rides in the next race over one and a half miles."

"No doubt thinking that you would gain possession of an animal worth a hundred times the entrance fee, I don't doubt that you have told the other riders to make sure she doesn't win."

"SIR, what do you take me for? As if the thought ever entered my head." The clerk coloured and spluttered his innocence.

Sir Roger ambled over to the stables and soon spotted Clarissa among the dozen or so other riders, he kept out of sight but caught the attention of one of the other riders and spoke to him,

"The black stallion, I want him to win, make sure he does and there are two hundred guineas in it for you."

The young man grinned, "Understood Sir you can bet your life on it, Sir."

Roger melted back into the crowd, he wanted to see what Thunder could do before he confronted Clarissa and took her home.

She had wished to get further but had realized the need of actual cash. That when she had remembered Epsom Downs and the races. She didn’t want to press Thunder too much this early. Best to leave him able to easily win the race before they continued their escape to freedom.

It was irritating when she reached the Downs and didn’t even have the two guineas necessary to enter the race. She would definitely need cash. A deal was struck with the clerk, but she felt confident that Thunder could easily win. She was shown to a spot where they waited with the other entries.

She was nervous waiting like this. DeCoverly could easily catch up with her here and she prayed that Father would be his usual addlepated self and not remember the Downs.

Meanwhile she looked at her competition while keeping an eye out for tricksters that might try something before the race. No one was allowed to touch him.

“He doesn’t like it.” “He bites!” “The last man that tried to touch him carried his own teeth home in his stomach.” Such creative warnings kept people away from her and Thunder. Meanwhile, the crowds of people seemed to be a cacophony of sounds and smells, men carrying mugs of ale and women dressed in their fanciest clothes yet made up as tarts all milled with pickpockets and such. Elite rubbed elbows with the downtrodden. Above them all, bookies called out the odds on favorite - a horse named Gentleman’s Agreement - at 1/4. She heard Thunder mentioned at 4/1. Whether it was because she was a woman and would be unable to outrun a man or handle such a headstrong horse, or handle the underhanded riders competing, she neither knew or cared. She had a quirt and would not hesitate to use it on any rider that tried as such.

As for her horse, he seemed to sense that something was up and nervously stomped the hard earth. “”You’re aching to run, right, my boy? You’ll have your chance.”

The roar of the crowds seemed deafening at times and between the farts of the horses and the ale-soaked ‘gentlemen’ and the general stench of the unwashed, she would be happy when they were gone from here. Finally, the call came out and she hopped upon Thunder’s back.

They were directed to the starting posts as the men jockeyed for a position up front. She let them have it and smiled as they seemed to bully they way up. She and Thunder would prove them all wrong.

And they were off. From the back she could see all the underhanded dealings. Prodding and whipping. And that was just the riders. Down went a jockey and several horses stumbled over the man while the horse, riderless, ran across another horse and the two wandered off.

She noticed a man on a chestnut that kept looking back at her. Was he planning something, suspicious of her holding back such a fine animal? She watched and waited for the opening. By halfway through, the field had been thinned out and still the rider of the chestnut kept looking back at her. He had already taken out two riders and she was wary of him.

And then she saw the opening, with Gentleman’s Agreement out in front. Leaning over further to press her face against Thunder’s neck, she whispered the words that only he could hear. She felt the energy fairly burst from him as he suddenly took off. See could not even hear the roars of the crowd as the two started passing horses. Thunder’s mane whipped about her face and stung it but she didn’t notice. She was urging him on.

“Good boy!”

One rider attempted to nudge her off but gave up once she used her Quirt. Yet never once did her used it on her own horse, nor did she use her heels. She merely spoke to him and the horse and rider seemed to be as one.

She pulled up even with the chestnut and Clarissa was prepared to protect Thunder but the man merely grinned at her and waved as they passed him.

She had no time to wonder. Gentleman’s Agreement was the lead and to her, it looked as if the rider had accepted that he was already the winner. She could see the finishing post in the distance as they came up on the outside of the lead horse. Glancing back, his rider noted Thunder coming up with surprise. His arm came out to hit Thunder’s face.

By now, Clarissa’s hair had come undone and flowed behind her like Thunder’s mane, giving her the appearance of something wild. With a yell, she struck him, her quirt hitting the back of his hand and making him drop his whip.

The two horses were nose to nose for a second before again she whispered and Thunder pulled ahead, his strong legs seeming to fly and grab the ground only to thrust it behind him and reach for more.

The winning post whipped past her and it was then that she heard a roar. Like a wild beast, she looked around before realizing that it was the crowds going wild. Once Thunder had finally slowed, she was directed to the winners circle and eagerly looked forward to getting her winnings and leaving.

As she held his reins, there was much fanfare and congratulations and she quickly took it and climbed back on Thunder’s back.

It was then that she saw him. DeCoverly. He was still some distance away but their eyes locked and she thought that she was something in his gaze - a mixture of anger and admiration.

There was a tug on her shoe and she looked down to find the clerk there, demanding his money.

She gave it to him and then asked, “has someone been looking for me?”

“Oh, you mean your uncle?”

She smiled. “Yes, my ‘uncle’. Well, since you were so nice to me you remind him of that and I am sure that he will give you something extra for your troubles. He is right over there.” She pointed to DeCoverly and then, looking at her ‘fiancé’ across the pressing crowds, threw back her head and laughed before turning the horse and working her way in the opposite direction.

By the time that DeCoverly reached where she had been, she was but a mere speck across the hill and the clerk was tugging on his sleeve demanding more money.

Having done what he could to help Clarissa and Thunder win the race and so keep possession of him, Sir Roger placed wagers with three different bookies to the tune of five hundred guineas at odds of 4/1 which would bring him a profit of two thousand guineas if Thunder won the race. Word soon got around among the betting fraternity and money poured in on wagers for Thunder to win and his odds shortened dramatically to 11/4 while the favourite drifted out to 4/5, still odds-on but looking less likely to be the clear winner.

Sir Roger found a vantage point from where he could watch the whole race, he took out a small pair of binoculars and scanned the horses and riders at the start. He found Clarissa and Thunder, Clarissa's face was set in concentration but with a confident smile on her face while Thunder pawed at the ground snorting his anxiety to run.

The race was on and Roger noted that Clarissa had sensibly settled at the rear of the field, keeping out of trouble and the shenanigans going on in front of her. He searched for the rider he had spoken to and saw that the lad was carving a path through for Thunder to follow, using his whip to bully others out of the way. At halfway the field had thinned to five horses still in contention with Thunder in fifth place. Around him, Sir Roger could hear some of the racegoers urging Clarissa to make her move while Gentleman's Agreement, the favourite, had extended his lead to two lengths. Switching his attention back to Clarissa he saw Clarissa crouch over Thunder's neck, disregarding his flying mane stinging her face, she appeared to speak to Thunder and his ears pricked up and in the matter of a dozen strides he was almost level with the horse in second place being ridden by the lad who had cleared the way. He seemed to wave Clarissa through as Thunder went in pursuit of the odds-on favourite now three lengths ahead. It was a magnificent spectacle, with Gentleman's Agreement having a seemingly unassailable lead but closing rapidly was Thunder with Clarissa crouched low over his neck, her hair had become loose and streamed out behind her and her riding habit had blown up around her milky white thighs although not many cared much as Thunder drew almost level. There was a gasp from the crowd as the favourite's rider realised that he was in danger and raised his whip to lash Thunder's nose but Clarissa used her own quirt to knock it from his hand. From then on it was a procession with Thunder winning easily by five lengths and the favourite fading to third. The lad who had helped to make it possible came in second, beaming all over his face, this had been his first placing in a race.

Sir Roger went to collect his winnings and overheard the comments from a group of half-drunk rakes,

"By Jove can that lass ride, if she rides a man half as well as she rode that horse then I want to be that man."

He chose to ignore the comments as he wanted to get to Clarissa and Thunder and take them home but when he saw Clarissa atop Thunder she had spotted him and she appeared to laugh and wheeled Thunder in the opposite direction heading into the countryside. He knew it was useless to try and catch her now and he cursed himself for not being closer. The clerk of the course caught up with him,

"Your niece said you would see me alright sir for allowing to race, she also said she was sorry she couldn't stay but she had to be somewhere else."

"Did she say where that somewhere else might be? What lies in the direction she took and what distance?"

"She didn't say Sir, but she was headed towards the village of Epsom about three miles away."

"And beyond that? I am not familiar with this part of the country,"

"Well, Sir, due South of the village is the Dorking road but first decent sized place is Leatherhead, to the North you come to Ewell, so you have a choice."

"Thank you, my good man, here are five guineas for your help."

He then went to the stables for his own steed and found the lad who had paved the way for Thunder,

"Well done lad, 'twas indeed a magnificent effort, I thank you again." He pressed two hundred and fifty guineas into his hand and was gone before the lad could count it. As he rode towards Epsom village he mused,

'You might have escaped me this time but I am on your trail and you will be my bride, like it or not.'

Several times she looked back before cresting the hill but could not see any sign of horse and rider in hot pursuit. That pleased her.

Once out of sight on the other side of the hill, she nudged Thunder a bit north, preferring to avoid the larger towns though it would be easier to get lost in a larger town - one among many. Still, there were so many options available to her and she was aware that if DeCoverly persisted in chasing her, he would still have to figure out her destination and her exact route.

Or he might just decide that she and the horse were worth the write off, and just go ahead and boot her Father from the premises and find some horsefaced young thing more suitable as a wife.

She had slowed Thunder down and allowed him to travel at his own speed. They had miles to go and she didn’t want to tire him as he had just run a glorious race. But she had no plans on being like Gentleman’s Agreement and let the opposition sneak up on her.

After a time, she arrived in Old Malden and made straight for the local pub. The Plough was your typical village pub with the attached stables for the weary traveler. The stable boy ran to her and eyed Thunder with appreciation.

“‘e’s a fine ‘orse, ma’am. A stallion wif spirit.” The lad almost reverently pet Thunder’s neck.

“Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Christopher, ma’am.”

“Christopher, my horse is hungry and tired. I want only you to take care of him cause he trusts you. Give him a good grooming and plenty of oats in his own stall. I’m going to eat something inside.”

A price was agreed upon and though Thunder didn’t want to leave her, she felt it important that his first night out he get good care. Grabbing her pack, she headed inside.

The smell of ale and food attacked her nostrils and awakened her stomach in the pub. Thankfully the roar of the crowds hid the rumbles of her empty stomach and once she grabbed an seat in a secluded area, a lively barmaid sashayed over to take her order.

“Yer new, luv?”

“Just passing through. And very hungry.”

Soon she was tucking into a hot meat pie and some ale. She had never had ale before. Wine, yes. Ale, no. Being prudent, she sipped it and found that she did prefer wine so she only used it to wash down the food.

One of the patrons, a burly man with a loud voice, had been watching her. The man had been imbibing a bit too much drink and as the time progressed, his voice steadily increased in volume. Clarissa was not a fool and had not left home without bring protection though she really did not want to use the knife unless absolutely necessary.

“What a pretty little filly. What I wouldn’t give for a ride on her.” There was an outburst of raucous laughter as well as other comments along the same line. The barmaid came over and told Clarissa, “Oi’s kin sees that yew’s a lady. Clive gits downright mean wen he’s got a snootfull. Oi kin try ta fine ah empty room in back fer ya.”

Clarissa smiled at the woman. “What is your name?”

“Millie.”

“Millie, I won’t be here much longer, but I thank you for your concern.”

She still wore her riding outfit though it was dusty and dirty but she had tried to pin her hair up to make herself more presentable. She knew that she needed to find somewhere for the night, somewhere where DeCoverly would not know to look.

She paid Millie and started for the door. Right before she reached it, a big, meaty hand came out and grabbed her arm.

“Don’t go! We can go upstairs and ‘ave some fun. A good poking is what you need.”

“You need to let go of me or you will regret it.” Her voice was icy cold and threatening.

Clive laughed and squeezed her wrist, gripping harder.

“Tiny little thing thinks that she is gonna scare me. ‘ad a real man between them milky thighs lately? Get ya on ya back and I’ll show ya ‘eaven!” Laughing Clive started to stand pulling hard on her arm.

Her whip was in the free hand and she quickly struck back at the man, striking the man across the face. The tip caught the corner of his eye before striking across his cheek and he gave a cry and turned loose. The room erupted in laughter as the man clutched at his cheek.

“No man paws at me like an animal. Learn your manners, Sir!” Her voice was loud and clear in the pub. Whereupon the women there applauded and one man cried out ‘she’s got ya there, Clive. Yew never had manners.’

Clarissa left and headed for the stables. The smell of hay and horse sweat was pungent and she called out for Christopher. The boy answered and she followed his voice to find Christopher petting Thunder.

Thunder has been well taken care of and she paid the boy and led the horse out into the courtyard. As she was getting in the saddle, an old man approached her.

“My Lady, I am very sorry for Clive’s behavior. Hopefully someone has finally taught him a lesson. My name is Peter Langer. If there is any way that I could help, I would be honored. I’m just an old man and could not begin to fight Clive Warren. But, I would be honored if you would spend the night at my place. I have a nice warm stable if you do not mind your fine horse sharing.”

And so, her first evening was spent in the safety of Peter Langer’s place, with DeCoverly having no idea where she was.

DeCoverly rode into Epsom village not expecting to find Clarissa there as he was sure she would try to get as far away from him as possible but perhaps someone might have seen her and the direction in which she was headed. He asked at the village store with no success but when he offered two guineas at the Village Inn for information he had more success, several ale sodden souls tried to convince him that they had seen her, going in all different directions on a different mount each time but one elderly farmer gave a description of a rider he had seen that fitted Clarissa perfectly, down to her stained and dusty riding habit.

"What direction was she headed and how long ago?" He asked excitedly.

"Now hold on young fella, what is it yew want wiv 'er? If you mean any 'arm to 'er I ain't tellin' yer no more."

"I assure you I mean her no harm but she needs saving from herself, she has taken it into her head that I, her fiance, is forcing her into marriage, she denies that she loves me but her sweet kisses tell me different."

The farmer gave a toothy grin,

"I ain't one t'stand in t'way of love so oi be tellin' ya Sir, she was 'eadin' North towards the city but that's if she keeps to that course if she veers off it who knows where she'll end up?"

Sir Roger pressed him,

"How long ago? When did you see her? An hour? Two hours? Longer?"

"Ah'm not rightly sure Sir, p'raps a brandy would refresh mi memory,"

"Landlord bring this kind gentleman a very large brandy."

"Why, t'ankee Sir, It was before the sun was behind the hills, so must 'ave been around three hours ago."

"Thank you, sir, here is your two guineas and Landlord leave the bottle of brandy with my friend here ."

He paid for his purchases and swung into the saddle and set off North hoping to find a bed for the night before darkness fell. As luck would have it he found a coaching inn on the outskirts of a place called Tolworth, they had a room available and he fell asleep more or less straight away, unaware that Clarissa was less than three miles away.

Mister Langer had proved to be a perfect host and just before bedtime she had gone out to check up on Thunder. The horse was resting up for tomorrow’s travels, as if he understood what was at stake and wanted to be at his best.

It was nice for the chance to clean the dust and dirt of the road off of herself and she also had a chance to wash the clothes she had worn. Mister Langer’s wife, long dead, supplied the gown that she slept in. Apparently quite large, or perhaps it was just large boned, the thing hung on her and puddled around her feet. And her bedroom was small but neat and clean and contained a small bed that was either extremely comfortable, or she was just extremely tired.

As the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, Clarissa was already up and dressed in her other set of riding clothes. She had fed Thunder and went in to pay the man for his hospitality. But Peter Langer refused.

“I did not do this for reward.”

“But you fed me. You fed my horse.”

“Neither of you ate that much. It is but my Christian duty to do so.”

He refused to take it but she left the money on his sideboard.

“So, where do you head?”

“Where do you suggest?”

“Well, we have Leatherhead south of us, Ockshot to the west and Esher above it, Tolworth is north and Ewell is east.”

“The world is my oyster.”

“Yes, but it can be a lonely shell without someone to share it with.”

The man’s words made her stop for a moment. She had not told him the reason for her flight. In fact, she had not even given him her real name. Instead, she had used the name Faith and told him that she had a cruel father.

“I thank you for your hospitality to me and my horse.” The man had even packed her a lunch and on an impulse, she had kissed the old man’s cheek before climbing up on Thunder’s back and nudging him north.

Once out of sight, she turned Thunder west and headed across the fields towards Ockshot. She soon came upon a thickly wooded area with heavy underbrush which seriously slowed her progress as she and Thunder followed trails through the woods. It was a strange morning and when she finally she came out of it, she found herself heading for Ockshot. There were several pig farms that she passed, the smell an unpleasant stench.

On the other side of the village, she picked back up the woods and chose a trail to follow. She was anxious to leave this area and get where Thunder could run, and she could tell the Thunder felt the same.

When finally they were free and clear of the woods, she found that they were headed towards Stoke D'Abernon and the daylight slowly heading towards dusk. She had been grateful for the food packed by the old man and Thunder had seemed to particularly enjoy the strange apples that Mister Langer had included for her horse. He had told her that they were apples that he would often pick whenever he was at Claygate. He called them the Claygate Pearmain. She had eaten one and found it delightful and Thunder seemed in agreement.

She was frustrated to discover that Mister Langer had slipped the money she had paid him back into her pack and she was touched. Such a sweet gesture.

In Stoke D'Abernon, she found The Plough, a fine whitewashed 2-story building with chimneys rising above the red roof and a stable to the side. She spent some time getting Thunder safely ensconced in his stall before venturing inside the pub.

Though noisy, it seemed a less rowdy group from the previous day’s venture and she was fed a delicious roasted chicken with various root vegetables.

She checked once more on Thunder and found him safe and resting so she headed up to her room for a nice nights rest.

Sir Roger awoke refreshed and keen to continue his search for Clarissa and Thunder, first though, he needed some victuals to sustain him throughout the day and then he had to pick up Clarissa's trail. He had been so close but it had suddenly gone cold and she seemed to have vanished into thin air but someone must have seen her, Thunder was not a steed that would go unnoticed nor would Clarissa for that matter, her pretty freckled nose was most noticeable for a start and WHEN she smiled, which unfortunately was not often, he thought her quite beautiful.
He was perusing the array of fruit on a stall when an elderly gentleman standing beside him advised him that the Claygate Pearmain was a delicious apple and grown locally.

"They are quite delicious Sir, the young lady and her steed who stayed at my humble abode last night thought so."

DeCoverly's ears pricked up at the mention of a young lady and her steed, trying not to show his excitement he casually remarked as if in jest,

"Indeed? How did a gentleman of your years persuade a young lady to share your bed?"

"You are mistaken, Sir, she is too much of a lady to bother with the likes of me, anyways she is running away from her father who treats her terribly and she had a run-in with one of the local roughnecks but she soon dealt with him. She needed somewhere safe to spend the night and she graciously accepted my offer, there were no shenanigans I assure you, Sir."

DeCoverly slapped him jovially on the back and said,

"I am only jesting with you, pray have a coffee with me and tell me more of this young lady I think I would like to meet her."

"I cannot tell you much Sir, she left early this morning saying she had a long way to go. Thunder, her horse looked as though he was raring to go and stretch his legs but young Faith kept him in check on the cobbles."

"What direction did she take? I would join her as it is not safe these days for even a man to travel alone let alone a defenceless slip of a girl."

"I cannot say with certainty but she seemed as though she was eager to go as if she was being pursued I think she would welcome your company and protection, perhaps you could try in a Westerly direction towards Ockshott and beyond that Stoke D'Abernon, if she passes that way someone will surely remember her,"

DeCoverly purchased a good number of the Claygate apples, thanked the elderly gentleman and following his directions rode towards Ockshott. The trail led through thick undergrowth and he could tell that someone had passed through no more than an hour ahead of him. He spurred his steed on and he covered his nose with a 'kerchief as the stench of the numerous pig farms assailed his nostrils. Thankfully they passed them by and on the other side of Ockshott he saw a sign for Stoke D'Abernon and followed the road instead of cutting across the fields. This allowed him to set a steady gallop and as he entered the village he saw a sight that set his pulse racing, none other than Clarissa entering the door of the whitewashed pub, supposedly to have some supper.

He reined in his horse and waited in the lengthening shadows, he waited until the early hours before he tethered his own steed and walked to the stables and located Thunder in his stall. He held out his hand with a Claygate Pearmain apple in it,

"Here boy, you like these don't you? Come with me I have lots more."

He quietly led Thunder out of the stable to where his own mare was tethered,

"You two get acquainted, You will be seeing your mistress soon enough Thunder, so don't fret."

He settled down to wait until hell broke loose in the morning.

As soon as the sun started to make an appearance, Clarissa was up and dressed, ready for a full day’s ride. She was hoping to get a chance to really give Thunder his head as the area surrounding Ockshot had been too heavily wooded for that.

Letting the clerk know that she would need her bill ready, she went out the back to have Thunder readied.

Her heart dropped to her boots when she found him not in his stall. A quick search of the rest of the stables failed to turn up her beloved horse.

“Where is my horse?” Her voice was loud and filled the stables, causing the other horses to stir restlessly in their stalls and bringing the groom rushing up to her in a panic.

“What is it, my Lady?”

“My fine steed, a solid black stallion, is missing and I presume stolen. I shall call for the constabulary.” She turned to go but a small voice stopped her.

“Was your steed in that stall there?”

She turned back to find a small boy no more than 7 or maybe 8 pointing to where Thunder had rested.

“Yes! What happened to my horse.”

“The Gent took him. He called your horse by name so I thought it was his. I was asleep over here in this stall and heard him so I looked.”

“What did he look like?” From the boys description, she had no doubt that it was DeCoverly.

“It seemed a bit strange so I followed. He hid in some bushes nearby. I followed him so quiet as for him to not know I was there. He tied both horses up to a tree and settled down to watch the pub. I can show you where.”

“No no, just tell me where. And then, I will need your help in procuring my property back. That man is someone that works for my father and my father is mean. Please help me.”

The boy promised and as a thank you, she put a gold coin in the boy’s hand. “I’ll do anything you ask, m’lady. I’ll even marry you for this.”

She smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you kind sir, but I already have too many willing to do that. But with your help I will outsmart this man.”

They headed back into the inn and told the clerk what had happened and of the plan.

Outside, anyone watching the inn and pub could see lights coming on inside the building as the sun was still a hint of what was to come. Periodically the door would open and someone would run out to the stables, check the empty stall and then run back inside. The young boy ran out, grabbed several men passing by and pleaded for them to come help control the lady gone mad inside. Each opening of the door allowed more noise and the boy pleaded with more people.

Finally, on one of his forays out for help, the boy ‘discovered’ DeCoverly resting under a tree. Tugging on the man’s sleeve to follow him, he pleaded as he pulled the man towards the Plough.

“Please help, Sir, the Lady in here is tearing up the place. She claims we stole something and demands satisfaction. She is like a wild woman. We are afraid of her.”

As soon as the commotion started, Clarissa had snuck out of a window on the other side from where DeCoverly was and crept wide around, coming up behind DeCoverly and the horses tied to the tree. As soon as the lad had led her nemesis out of earshot, she untied both horses and led them away.

A few yards away, she hopped up on Thunder’s saddle and still holding the other horse’s reins, led it about a quarter of a mile away before tying it to a tree.

With a grin, she turned Thunder around and leaning over, spoke the magic words in his ear. Suddenly, they were off like the wind, heading towards their next destination. She had a lot of ground to cover to reach East Horsley but she was confident that Thunder could easily beat DeCoverly’s horse. She had told no one of her destination but she was sure that Lady Ada Lovelace would aid her and provide sanctuary.

She almost wished that she could be there when DeCoverly was led into the pub to find a room full of men looking confused. Each had been told that a woman needed their help so they stood there waiting wondering where the wild woman was. Meanwhile, the clerk would inform DeCoverly that the young lady had assured him that the cost of the room and board for her and her horse would be taken care of by Sir DeCoverly. And that Sir DeCoverly would find his horse no more than half a mile away tied up in a sheltering grove.

As the sun came up off to her left, she bent over and rested her face against Thunder’s neck and whispered to him, letting the stallion have his head. Two wild creatures being chased across the English countryside.

Sir Roger was rightly cautious as the young boy pleaded with him to help calm the madwoman in the Plough, Clarissa had not behaved at all as he had expected. She had not run frantically into the street looking for Thunder here there and everywhere, instead she appeared to have gone mad with grief and was making a nuisance of herself. He allowed himself to be taken to the public-house and found himself surrounded by a crowd of confused men waiting for the mad-woman to appear.

It did not take long for him to work out that somehow Clarissa had outsmarted him and even now had possibly found Thunder and was making her escape, he gave a wry smile when the innkeeper told him that the young lady had said that it had been a misunderstanding and that he, DeCoverly, would cover any costs she had incurred. He paid up and tried to glean any information about where she was headed but there was no information to be had.

With nothing to go on apart from his instincts, he considered his next move. It would serve no purpose to go charging around the countryside like a headless chicken looking for a needle in a haystack, it required logical thought.

'Logical thought', the phrase hammered in his head and then he remembered that Lady Ada Lovelace lived no great distance away at Horsley Park, a grand house that he had visited once or twice in years gone by. She had a reputation of being one of the great logical minds of the century, a mathematician of the highest order and solver of puzzles, reputed to have helped develop a machine with Charles Babbage a well-respected inventor, a machine called 'The Difference Engine' that could solve mathematical problems faster than any man, or woman for that matter. Surely she could help him, with an analytical mind like her's and the advantage of being a woman herself she would be able to point him in the right direction.

Sir Roger made enquiries as to how to get to Horsley Park and was there in a matter of two hours. As he rode up the drive, to his surprise and no small delight he saw Thunder grazing contentedly in a small paddock.

"The Lord must be looking favourably on me today he smiled. He introduced himself to Lady Lovelace who said that she remembered him. He mentioned that she had a visitor and she smiled,

"Yes she is a sweet young girl, Clarissa Fernwood, perhaps you know of her? If you ask me you would make a perfect match, why not use your time getting to know her?

DeCoverly breathed a sigh of relief, Clarissa had obviously not told her about their forthcoming marriage.

"That would be a pleasure Lady Lovelace but may I take a bath first I have not bathed for two days now."

"Of course my dear boy and I will introduce you at dinner this evening."

Sir Roger was shown to the bathroom where he stipped down to his undergarments and realised he had left his razor in his pack in the bedroom. He stepped barechested into the hallway and ran full tilt into Clarissa,

"Why Clarissa my dear, fancy meeting you here." He smiled serenely, almost smirking at the alarmed and surprised look on her face.

Thunder ran with the joy of running, the two of them tearing across fields and pastures. Her stomach grumbled from lack of her breakfast, but she knew that soon she would be at Horsley Park and a modicum of safety. She would ask Lady Ava Lovelace to let her stay for a while until she could figure out what to do and where to go.

Soon enough, she saw the manor with its brown stone face and many chimneys sticking up among the evergreens and other tall trees surrounding it.

Trying to hide his surprise at seeing Lady Fernwood standing outside the door, dusty and dirty and only her horse behind her, the butler greeted her.

“Lady Fernwood, we were not expecting you, were we?”

“No, Carlton, but I seem to be in a terrible pickle. Is Lady Lovelace available?”

“I believe so, Lady Fernwood. Right this way and I will let her Ladyship know that you are here. I’ll have the boy see to your horse.”

“Thank you.”

The sitting room was nice and airy and as she stood looking at the painting over the fireplace, a voice light and playful spoke up behind her.

“Not my favorite painting, Clarissa, though King prefers it.” Clarissa turned and crossed to the woman. The hug was quick and genuine. “Now, just what are you doing here? Not that I don’t appreciate the visit but...”

“Ada, I am on the run. Thunder and I need a place to rest and consider our options.”

“Oh, how exciting. Then by all means, you must stay. You know just how to whet my appetite for problem solving. We shall solve this together. And the children will be happy to see you again.” As she spoke, she rang for the butler. He appeared as she finished. “Carlton, would you please have Lady Fernwood’s room readied for her.”

Carlton left and Ada turned back to Clarissa. “You can tell me over lunch exactly what your problem is. I do so love to use my mind.”

“You seem a bit pale. Have you had another of your episodes?”

“I’m much better now so don’t you worry. Off you go and I’ll see you when we eat lunch.”

Clarissa followed Carlton up to her room. It was one that she had slept in before - a comfortable airy room - and she spent some time changing into her clean riding clothes before ringing for the maid.

“Could these please be cleaned for me?”

“Oh, yes my Lady.”

The fresh faced girl bobbed a curtsy and took Clarissa’s dirty clothes. She then carefully cleaned the dust and dirt from her face with the fresh water that was in the bowl. It seemed next to impossible to tame her blonde locks and she finally gave up and just pulled her hair back in a simple bun.

After last night and Thunder’s abduction by that devious DeCoverly, she decided to check on her precious horse. Leaving her room, she headed for the stairs. Turning a corner, she was shocked to run into a man’s bare chest. Quickly pulling back, she found herself looking up into the face of Sir Roger DeCoverly himself!

Why Clarissa my dear, fancy meeting you here.

How could this have happened! She had not told anyone where she was heading so how could he have found her so quick.

Without saying a word, she stepped back and whirled around, heading straight downstairs to call Carlton. When the butler arrived, she told him, “please inform Lady Lovelace that I cannot stay after all. And would you please have Thunder saddled and ready for my departure.”

Carlton nodded and left and she waited nervously by the front door for her horse to be brought up.

“You might as well quit waiting. I’ve told Carlton that you are staying.”

“I can’t stay with that man here in this house. He is my problem.”

“What man? Sir Roger? What did he do to you? This is even more interesting than I had hoped.”

“I need to leave. Please!”

“No! You asked for my help and that is what I shall do. At lunch, we three shall eat and solve this problem of yours. And you will be staying here. Though what you are wearing is fine for lunch, I will send several dresses so that you can be dressed properly for dinner tonight.” Ada spoke no nonsense.

“But I can’t...”

“Lunch shall be in one hour. I expect both of you.” Ada was adamant as she turned and Clarissa was left standing there, panicking.

Sir Roger smiled broadly as Clarissa turned and ran down the stairs as if the hounds of hell were after her,

"I do hope I will see you at lunch," He called out after her, watching the skirt of her riding habit billowing around her shapely legs and her prettily turned ankles.

He grinned to himself and finished bathing and shaving, making himself presentable. He thought about what to say to his hostess as he knew that Clarissa would do her best to present him in a bad light so he decided to be honest with her, well, almost honest.

At lunch, Clarissa sat as far away from him as possible and sat glowering at him until Lady Lovelace spoke,

"What is the problem with you two? Clarissa, you seem to dislike Sir Roger intensely, Lord knows why, whereas Sir Roger, you sit there like a simpering fool, unable to take your eyes off Clarissa, would you please explain to me the problem?"

Both Sir Roger and Clarissa started to speak but Ada held up her hand, silencing them both.

"I will hear you both out but one at a time, Sir Roger, you first."

He was glad that he would be the first to put his side and hopefully gain the sympathy of Lady Lovelace for he was sure that whatever decision she came to would be final. She was a decisive lady and would treat both stories on merit.

"My dear Ada, the first thing you should know is that we are not complete strangers to one another, we first met but a matter of four days ago at the invitation of Lord Fernwood and he introduced me to my future bride."

He paused as Lady Lovelace raised her eyebrows in surprise but waited for him to continue,

"Clarissa, Lady Fernwood, had no knowledge of the wager that her father had made and lost which was his daughter's hand in marriage. I, on my part, did not know exactly what I would be getting apart from Lord Fernwood's assurance that his daughter was not horse-faced with a hooked nose and buck teeth. On meeting her I became enamoured with her and decided to woo her to the best of my ability but she took affront to this and yesterday she left without a word to anyone and went off to heaven knows where. Thankfully, Lord Fernwood had an idea that she might go to Epsom and race her stallion, Thunder, in the hope of raising some hard coin. It seems she was so desperate that she offered Thunder as the entry fee for a race on the understanding that the race needed to be won if she was to keep the stallion. I was able to discover this in time and was able to engineer a true run race, Clarissa saw me and rode off without giving me a chance to speak to her, I have chased her over half of Surrey in the hope of persuading her that I am not the ogre she seems to think I am, I came to you hoping that you might help me to find her but it seems that fate has brought us together with you to be the one to decide what should be done."

Lady Lovelace's face remained expressionless as he spoke and now she said,

"Have you told me everything, Roger? I suspect you have left things out that would not sit well with me."

"I believe that I have told you everything that is relevant except that Clarissa may have taken fright when I kissed her, frightened that her passion might overwhelm her."

Lady Lovelace smiled at that,

"I too would need to keep my passions in check if you were to kiss me, you are too handsome a man to resist for long,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Isn't he Clarissa?"

She turned to Clarissa,

"That was an interesting story, I now want to hear your version of events, Clarissa, then I will decide on the best way forward."