The Pretenders Read Free Page A

own life.”
    Ironically, it was that particular prank which had been the last straw which caused his father to change his will to keep Reeve from coming into control of his inheritance until he was twenty-six. Reeve had accomplished exactly the opposite of what he had wanted.
    “Reeve never liked Cambridge,” I said now quietly.
    “No, he didn’t,” Mr. Liskey agreed. ”It was perfectly evident to me from the moment we met that he wasn’t going to last. He was like a… a comet blazing across the Cambridge skies. The fiery light he cast was mesmerizing, but somehow one knew that he was going to burn himself out.”
    I thought that Mr. Liskey had probably described the Cambridge situation very well. I sighed.
    Poor Reeve
, I thought.
    “Tell me, Miss Woodly,” Mr. Liskey said, “will you be at the dance the Bateses are holding this Saturday evening?”
    I brought my attention back to him. “Yes, I will,” I said.
    He looked pleased. “Then I must beg you to be sure to save a dance for me.”
    Dances such as the one the Bateses were throwing were completely informal. There were no dance cards j and one simply danced with whoever asked one at the moment. I didn’t want to seem to belittle the Bateses’ entertainment, however, so I simply smiled, and said, “Of course.”
    “I shall look forward to it,” Mr. Liskey said. He picked up the oars and began to row us back toward the picnic.

Chapter Two
    HE STUMBLED ON his way up the last hill and pulled up with the lower part of his leg dangling. He had snapped his cannon bone. They put him down right on the Epsom course.
    “Oh my God,” I moaned when I read the account of the race in the
Morning Post
the following day. ”This is terrible. Poor Reeve. What incredibly rotten luck.”
    “Let me see.” Mother reached across the breakfast table to take the paper from me.
    “Oh dear, that is too bad,” she said in distress when she had finished reading the article. ”Lord Bradford will be very annoyed when he learns that he has to pay out training money and now Reeve doesn’t even have a horse he can sell.”
    “It isn’t just the training money, either,” I said gloomily. ”Can you see Reeve not betting on his own horse? A horse that is the Derby
favorite
,’
    “Oh dear,” Mama said again. She knew Reeve well enough to recognize the truth of what I had just said.
    I didn’t see him for two weeks after the Derby fiasco. Then, one hazy June morning, as I was helping Mama in her garden, which fed us for most of the summer and half of the winter, he drove his phaeton up to the front of our cottage, pulled up with his usual flourish, and jumped down. I wiped my hands on my skirt and walked over to greet him.
    “Hello, Reeve,” I said. ”How are you?”
    “I’ve been better,” he replied shortly.
    In fact, he looked ill. He had lost weight, which made his high, classical cheekbones more prominent than usual, and there were noticeable shadows under his eyes.
    “I was so sorry to hear about Highflyer,” I said gently. ”What a terrible way to lose a good horse.”
    He nodded tersely. Reeve had never been very good about dealing with his own feelings.
    At that point, my mother came up. She patted him gently on the arm, and said, “It’s good to see you, Reeve. Thank you for the hams.”
    She, too, knew him well enough to realize that an excess of sympathy would not be welcome.
    “I’ve come to ask Deb to go for a drive with me,” Reeve said to Mama. ”Will that be all right, Mrs. Woodly?”
    “Of course,” Mama said. ”Change your dress first, Deborah. You cannot be seen abroad in that dirty old gown.”
    “She looks fine,” Reeve said impatiently.
    “If you don’t mind, I would like to wash my hands at least,” I said mildly. ”I won’t be long.”
    He gave me a very somber look. “All right.”
    Good heavens
, I thought, as I went into the cottage.
Something must be very wrong indeed. Could Bernard have refused to pay his debts
?
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