Gayle Buck by Hearts Betrayed Page A

well-knit man, not above average height, his countenance dominated by a long nose and firmly held lips. His whiskers were dark and extremely heavy, growing far down his jawline to his chin. Lydia thought she had rarely met a gentleman who exuded such an air of nervous energy.
    Michele gestured for Captain Becher to be seated and offered him refreshment before she began to tell him why she had approached him. Briefly she explained what she had been told by Lord Randol. “And as I do not know any gentlemen in London who might be depended upon for their good sense in choosing decent horseflesh, I have been so bold as to call upon you, sir. I hope that I may persuade you to act as my agent in purchasing a phaeton and a team of four, since I have been told it’s not usual for a lady to do so for herself,” Michele said.
    Captain Becher reflected a moment. “I have no objection to doing so. However, may I be permitted to ask a question?” Upon Michele’s nod, he said, “I have seen Lord Randol at some of the races, as well as heard that he has taken up his old position with the Four-Horse Club. He was always a deft one with his left hand, and his wound has hardly affected the excellence of his driving, I am told. The point is this, mademoiselle. Surely his lordship, who is well-known to you, would be more properly the personage to approach for this commission than a stranger such as myself.”
    “His lordship and I are no longer as close friends as we once were,” Michele said quietly.
    Captain Becher was intelligent enough to allow the matter to drop. “Then I shall be most happy to act as your agent, mademoiselle. Only give me your instructions and I shall endeavor to have a worthy rig for you in the shortest possible time.”
    “Thank you, Captain.” Michele told him exactly what sort of carriage and team she required, as well as the amount that she was prepared to pay. She mentioned a commission for the captain’s services that he accepted with every sign of gratification. Shortly thereafter Captain Becher took his leave, promising that he would communicate with her again very soon. He bowed to Michele and Lydia and left the drawing room.
    Lydia leaned back against the settee and regarded her cousin with astonished admiration. She had listened to the transaction with growing wonder, and now she shook her head. “Michele, I am utterly awed. I would never have thought of engaging the services of a professional rider to set me up with a phaeton-and-four. Indeed, I would never have thought of getting a carriage at all. I have driven only the veriest bit, and I was quite unbelievably clumsy at it.”
    “I am used to driving myself about. It is an activity that I took much pleasure in at home,” Michele said.
    Lydia eyed her contemplatively. “Is what Captain Becher said true? Is Lord Randol an excellent driver?”
    “His lordship was always something of a whip.”
    “How strange that I was not aware of it. But then, Lord Randol rarely speaks of himself and he has never offered to take me up for a drive,” Lydia said. She asked in an offhand manner, “Did you often drive with his lordship?”
    “Yes,” Michele said shortly. She was reluctant to have Lydia probe further into her past and she was therefore glad when Lady Basinberry entered the drawing room. Her relief was short-lived, however, as Lydia immediately informed her ladyship of Michele’s startling decision to possess a carriage.
    “Indeed! How very suitable. It is becoming the fashion for young ladies to tool themselves sedately about the park. I do trust that you are a handy whipster, Michele, and shall not discredit yourself,” Lady Basinberry said.
    Michele smiled. “I am accounted a fair whip, ma’am.” She had been schooled in driving by a gentleman well-versed in the activity, and as she recalled the leisurely and memorable instruction that Lord Randol had shown her, she could not keep from hoping that their shared passion for driving could