Bertie continued to accompany Beatrice to the Park so that he could watch the interaction between Manus, Mandrake and Charlotte, leaving the two women to have their little chats in private.
“He’s trying to discover the formula,” Beatrice laughed. “Wouldn’t we all? Lord Prothero isn’t the only one who wants to poach Manus from you. Have you seen – of course you have – the way he gets the foals to leave their dams and follow him? Bertie says it’s contrary to nature and he’s never seen it done before. He’d love to know how . . .”
So would Edwina, though she would die rather than ask him. In her nine years at the Park, Manus had never once acknowledged her superior horsemanship or asked her advice on anything.
“. . . but Manus himself doesn’t know, apparently. Or at least he can’t put it into words.”
It was a cold, bright autumn day. The friends sat on either side of a wood fire and leaned back in the armchairs. Edwina, with her feet tucked under her despite Beatrice’s offer of a footstool and warnings that it would cut off her circulation, wondered peevishly why anyone would want to know his main trade secret anyway. Fear impairs judgement, Manus believed. An animal couldn’t concentrate on the matter in hand if it expected a punishment to fall at any minute. Its nervousness would make it unreliable. So wrong to her way of thinking, and if Manus would leave Sandstorm alone, she would prove it within the next two years. Because of the fear she had instilled in him, Sandstorm galloped faster and jumped higher than any of Manus’s softly reared charges.
“I think Manus is given too much credit,” Edwina said aloud. “After all, I’m the better judge of horseflesh and I’m the one who studies the bloodlines and decides which mares to buy in, and which ones will be covered by which stallions, and then he comes along with a few training tricks and ends up with all the recognition, which hardly seems fair.”
“I see your point, dear,” said Beatrice quickly to mollify her. “The trouble is we take your expertise for granted. Your memory is a wonder of the age and your judgement faultless.”
“Thank you for that,” said Edwina, trying not to show how much she relished her friend’s praise. “All this talk brings me to something I’ve been meaning to ask you for ages.”
Beatrice was immediately alert.
“Tell me, Bea. Is Manus an illegitimate son of the Park?”
Beatrice hesitated before answering in a half-shocked, half-amused tone, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“It’s been known to happen. It’s not unusual.”
“In what way do you mean a son of the Park?”
“I’ve worked it out. He could have been sired by Waldron’s father, or Waldron or Charles, take your pick. At thirty-four, his age fits all of them.”
Beatrice kept shaking her head. “Whatever made you come up with such a notion?”
“The way he’s such a law unto himself. His confidence. Being given so much authority so young. It all adds up.”
“No, dear. I think you’ll find the answer much more mundane. Waldron’s father took a shine to Manus, a boy at the time, at the local horse fair. He was impressed by the way he was handling livestock and he liked the look of him. Persuaded him to come and work at the Park. It wasn’t easy. Manus’s father is a strong republican who said he himself would rather starve to death than work on an estate, but he gave in for the sake of the boy, only fourteen at the time, because of his passion for horses. He realised that working here was the only way Manus would get access to them. Nothing more than that, I’m afraid. Sorry to disappoint you if you were looking for a bit of juicy scandal.”
“Do you remember if his mother ever worked here?”
“I can be fairly sure she didn’t, knowing the Park’s policy on not employing local villagers. Except for Manus himself, of course, who’s an exception.”
Wasn’t that the whole point of the conversation? Edwina wanted to ask but decided instead to change the topic, as it was obvious that even if Beatrice did know anything, she wasn’t about to reveal it. “Too much time on my hands, that’s my problem, thinking up fanciful notions like that.” She stretched. “Not long to go now.”
Beatrice didn’t need more prompting to talk about preparations for the baby, but she soon returned to the excitement of the moment.
“Charlotte’s very pleased,” she said as she leaned over to stir the ashes with a poker, releasing a burst of heat and sparks. “I love doing that. Hope you don’t mind. Manus has told her she’s good enough to ride with the adults in the next hunt that leaves from the Park. That will be a thrill for you. And us. It’s always a treat to be there when an exciting new rider makes her first appearance. Bertie can’t stop talking about her and is forecasting –”
“No one likes a show-off,” Edwina interrupted. “She’s going to find it difficult enough to snare a husband with her plainness and ill nature without adding showing-off to her disadvantages.”
“Are we talking about the same girl?” Beatrice was taken aback, but responded with spirit. “I think Charlotte looks quite attractive when she smiles, and I’ve never noticed any evidence of ill nature. She’s always most pleasant and agreeable when I see her.”
“I think I’d be the better judge of my daughter than you, Beatrice, with due respect. Add being two-faced to that list. You only see her when she’s toadying to Manus so that he’ll continue to spoil her shamelessly and let her stay at the stables all day.”
Beatrice’s face became flushed. “I think it’s a bit harsh calling Charlotte a show-off, Edwina dear. She was lucky to be born with a natural talent but doesn’t seem to be aware of how exceptional she is. To see her take instructions from Manus and so conscientiously put them into practice, always keen to learn more, it’s obvious she has no inflated notions about herself.” Despite the cold reception her observations were receiving, Beatrice added, “Isn’t it a bit early to write Charlotte off as plain when she’s only nine? She has plenty of time to turn into a swan.”
“That will never happen if she continues to take after her father. I see her as a female version of him. She’ll need more than the Dowager’s fortune to entice anyone to marry her with a face like that.”
“You’ll see a big change for the better when she loses her puppy fat, Edwina dear. She has a good bone structure underneath all that.”
Edwina was losing her patience. “I’m glad you’re such an expert on my daughter,” she said with sarcasm. “Would it be too much to ask you to change the subject and talk about something interesting before I expire from boredom?”