My last hope

I tamed my fear, lashed my animal next to the two other horses in front of the porch, and entered the front door. In the hall I met Rebecca, next to her stood a tall man with whiskers. He wore the uniform of a US cavalry colonel. I shrugged laconicly, stopped on the spot, and executed a curt bow.

"Darling, this is Mr. Webster," the lady of the house introduced me to her husband, "I told you he was going to buy our horses."

She presented the perfect image of the devoted wife and lady of the house. There was nothing to suggest that she had made me an immoral offer just a few hours ago. All my plans and hopes for that night burst like soap bubbles. I couldn't afford any escapades with her husband being at home.

On the other hand, I saw the owner's return as my last chance to get my money's worth after all. I only had to convince him that his wife wanted to agree to an invalid contract and that it was all a big misunderstanding. Then I could start the price negotiations all over again and this time, I would be guided less by my desires and more by my business sense.

"Colonel Carlyle, finally," I stepped closer and offered him my hand, "I'm pleased to meet you. I wonder if we could have a word in private?"

He looked at his wife. She smiled sympathetically and nodded.

"I'll leave you two alone. I have work to do in the kitchen."

Rebecca rushed off down the hall, and the colonel preceded me into the drawing room.

"A whiskey?" he asked. Without waiting for my answer, he poured two glasses and continued talking. "I'm very grateful to you. My wife told me what a good price they pay for our horses."

I took the glass from him. Without sipping or taking a seat, I got straight to the point.

"That's exactly why I wanted to speak to you, Colonel. I will, of course, renegotiate the contract with you personally since you are here, now. I'm afraid your wife may have misunderstood some of the conditions. It would be most unpleasant if you were to get the impression that I had tried to take advantage of your absence. It was never my intention to best your wife. You know how little women understand about financial matters, and horse breeding in particular. Therefore, it would only be appropriate if we forget the past and renegotiate the deal."

I winked at him conspiratorially.

"Absolutely not, I trust my wife completely in this respect," he contradicted me, "the stud farm belonged to her parents, you must know. She grew up here, learned everything there is to know about horses and their breeding. And she inherited everything because she was the only child. I only renamed it Carlyle Manor after our wedding because it's common for estates to be named after the family. She runs the whole business and breeding, and does it very well, as far as I can tell. I've never had a knack for such things."

I choked violently on my whiskey. He gave me a jovial pat on the back.

"Shall I call my wife so you and her can finalize the purchase?"

"No need," I coughed, "it's all clear. I'll pay the money into your bank account and let you know in writing where the horses are to be driven. Now you'll have to excuse me, I have an important appointment in town."

I left the house and the estate in a hurry. I would never set foot here again.

*

So much for this story. Will there be a sequel?
Of course, I am open to additions or spin-offs.