ride you in a hunt but it isn’t done, you know. Even if I were to be so bold, I couldn’t go to the Old Club and get the best price. And anyway, all those arrogant men would refuse to be impressed by a mount ridden by a female. It would be demeaning, wouldn’t it, to sell you for a hundred or so as if you were just another horse?”
Nelson tossed up his head and snorted at the very idea.
Haverby, the groom, came out of the tack shed. “Want me to saddle ’im, Miss Emily?”
“Yes, please.” Emily suddenly realized that soon these magnificent horses would be gone. She hadn’t looked ahead so far in her plans. How empty, how ordinary, the stables would seem without them.
She went the rounds, dispensing largesse and paying particular attention to Corsair so he wouldn’t be jealous, until the groom led out Nelson ready for her. “We’re going to have to sell them, you know, Haverby,” she said.
He was stoical. “Better so, I reckon. No life for them stuck here.”
“I think I’ll have to hire someone to ride them, though. Do you know of anyone?”
“You want a roughrider, miss. Dick Christian’s best, they say, but I doubt you’ll get him this close to hunting.”
“I’ve heard of him. He rides for the horse-copers and sometimes for gentlemen?”
“That’s right. There ain’t a horse born he can’t ride, and ride well. He’d make even old Venus there”—he nodded at the oldest hack—“look like prime blood.”
The unlikely notion made Emily smile. “I’d like to get the best. Can you get word to him that I’d like to hire him? It does no harm to ask. And see who else may be suitable as well?”
“Right you are,” he said and tossed Emily into the saddle. “Where you be off to, then, Miss Emily?” he asked. It was the only restriction put on Emily these days, to let someone know where she was heading.
“Up to High Burton,” she replied and gave Nelson the office to go.
She took it slowly for a while, letting the horse stretch and settle, and then began to try his paces. They cantered over a fallow field, and she set him at an easy woven hedge. He hopped over it and tossed his head.
“Too tame for you, is it?” she chuckled. “Very well.”
She let him have his head and they raced across grass towards a higher fence with a ditch behind. She collected him, then set him at it. It was like flying with a smooth, controlled landing at the end.
“Oh, you beauty!” she said, laughing, and they raced on to the next obstacle.
In a little while she reined him down to a trot, then to a walk. “You could go on for hours, couldn’t you, my fine fellow? But that’s enough for now. I want to look at the land.”
He obediently walked along, his step as light and frisky as if he had just come out of the stable, as Emily looked over the disputed property. It needed the sheep. The grass had grown long during the wasted months. In Two Oak Field the gash in the earth was unrepaired after old Casper’s attempted plowing, but already grass and weeds had disguised the damage.
Two Oak bordered directly onto the Sillitoe estate and Emily saw that the field beyond contained a well-tended covert of gorse and ferns. She wasn’t surprised, for Casper had been a great supporter of hunting, and if you wanted foxes available for the chase you needed coverts for them to hide in when their earths were stopped.
It was a bother, though. She hardly wanted to encourage foxes to lurk next door to her flock. As she frowned over the brush fence at the covert she heard the thumping of hooves and looked up. A fine dark horse ran easily up the sloped field towards her. As it came closer she recognized with a tremor of alarm that the rider was Mr. Piers Verderan. Reacting perhaps to an involuntary jerk of her hand, Nelson jibbed and sidled away as the horse and rider drew up on the other side of the fence.
Mr. Verderan raised his hat. “Miss Grantwich. What a pleasant surprise.” He sounded as if he meant
Nelson tossed up his head and snorted at the very idea.
Haverby, the groom, came out of the tack shed. “Want me to saddle ’im, Miss Emily?”
“Yes, please.” Emily suddenly realized that soon these magnificent horses would be gone. She hadn’t looked ahead so far in her plans. How empty, how ordinary, the stables would seem without them.
She went the rounds, dispensing largesse and paying particular attention to Corsair so he wouldn’t be jealous, until the groom led out Nelson ready for her. “We’re going to have to sell them, you know, Haverby,” she said.
He was stoical. “Better so, I reckon. No life for them stuck here.”
“I think I’ll have to hire someone to ride them, though. Do you know of anyone?”
“You want a roughrider, miss. Dick Christian’s best, they say, but I doubt you’ll get him this close to hunting.”
“I’ve heard of him. He rides for the horse-copers and sometimes for gentlemen?”
“That’s right. There ain’t a horse born he can’t ride, and ride well. He’d make even old Venus there”—he nodded at the oldest hack—“look like prime blood.”
The unlikely notion made Emily smile. “I’d like to get the best. Can you get word to him that I’d like to hire him? It does no harm to ask. And see who else may be suitable as well?”
“Right you are,” he said and tossed Emily into the saddle. “Where you be off to, then, Miss Emily?” he asked. It was the only restriction put on Emily these days, to let someone know where she was heading.
“Up to High Burton,” she replied and gave Nelson the office to go.
She took it slowly for a while, letting the horse stretch and settle, and then began to try his paces. They cantered over a fallow field, and she set him at an easy woven hedge. He hopped over it and tossed his head.
“Too tame for you, is it?” she chuckled. “Very well.”
She let him have his head and they raced across grass towards a higher fence with a ditch behind. She collected him, then set him at it. It was like flying with a smooth, controlled landing at the end.
“Oh, you beauty!” she said, laughing, and they raced on to the next obstacle.
In a little while she reined him down to a trot, then to a walk. “You could go on for hours, couldn’t you, my fine fellow? But that’s enough for now. I want to look at the land.”
He obediently walked along, his step as light and frisky as if he had just come out of the stable, as Emily looked over the disputed property. It needed the sheep. The grass had grown long during the wasted months. In Two Oak Field the gash in the earth was unrepaired after old Casper’s attempted plowing, but already grass and weeds had disguised the damage.
Two Oak bordered directly onto the Sillitoe estate and Emily saw that the field beyond contained a well-tended covert of gorse and ferns. She wasn’t surprised, for Casper had been a great supporter of hunting, and if you wanted foxes available for the chase you needed coverts for them to hide in when their earths were stopped.
It was a bother, though. She hardly wanted to encourage foxes to lurk next door to her flock. As she frowned over the brush fence at the covert she heard the thumping of hooves and looked up. A fine dark horse ran easily up the sloped field towards her. As it came closer she recognized with a tremor of alarm that the rider was Mr. Piers Verderan. Reacting perhaps to an involuntary jerk of her hand, Nelson jibbed and sidled away as the horse and rider drew up on the other side of the fence.
Mr. Verderan raised his hat. “Miss Grantwich. What a pleasant surprise.” He sounded as if he meant
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