Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Marion took a look at where Agnes was pointing and paled.
“My lady, you cannot ride that horse. Do not worry; we have many other fine ones in the stables if you would just –”
“Why not? Why can't I ride that one? He seems quite fine to me. I would even say he is very majestic.” Agnes stated in confusion.
From the rooftop, she could tell just how great the horse was.
Its brown coat gleamed brilliantly beneath the sun, and it stood strongly, moving around the grounds as it continued to eat grass.
Agnes had spent enough time around horses to be able to tell the strong and weak apart from a single glance, and her eyes told her that the beast down there was too special for her to miss the chance of riding it.
“My lady, I understand, but you really cannot ride that one. He is the Duke’s favorite and most prized horse.
No one else except the Duke himself and the stable boy are permitted to touch it.
In fact, we are advised not to, as it is really unfriendly around other people.
” Marion said, her gaze pleading with Agnes to relent and shift her attention elsewhere.
Unfortunately, she was too captivated by the creature to listen.
“I am sure it will be fine,” she muttered, leaving the rooftop garden.
She could hear Marion calling for her, along with Ella and Beatrice, but she paid them no mind, heading outside straight to the stable. They eventually caught up with her just before she arrived at the stable, somehow managing to stand between her and the building.
“My lady, you should really listen to them,” Beatrice pleaded, sounding out of breath.
“Mrs. Safield, I appreciate the concern for my well-being, but I assure you, I can handle myself.
My father loved horses, and he made sure each of his girls was given the best lessons on horse riding.
Granted, my sisters did not enjoy it very much – even though we were all taught to ride exceptionally – but I did.
Every moment I spent with a horse – tending or riding – helped me escape reality and find peace within myself.
It felt like… like the only part of myself that belonged to me.
“I’ve always dreamed of entering horse competitions, but I could not – even though I had secretly trained for them.
” She paused and inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself.
“What I am trying to say is that I love horses, and I know how to handle them. If you are worried that I will get hurt or the horse will let me assure you that we will be fine.”
She moved past them, smiling when she noticed a boy walking towards them, bowing as he got close enough to address Agnes.
“Good morning, my lady.” He looked past her and greeted the others behind her before shifting his attention back to her. “What can I do for you, my lady?”
She gestured to the horse on the left side of the stable that was still grazing, unaware of what Agnes had planned.
“I want to ride that horse.”
His smile fell, and he immediately began to refuse.
“My lady, you mustn’t! That’s the Duke’s –”
“I know, do not worry.” She dismissed him and entered the stable, emerging moments later with a cube of sugar in the palm of her hand.
“My lady, please reconsider –”
Agnes held up a hand to shush him, slowly approaching the horse from the side so she could come around to stand before him.
Once she had his attention, she extended her hand out, offering the cube resting in her palm.
The horse sniffed at her hand and accepted her offering, stepping closer to her as it chewed on the sugar cube.
Agnes smiled to herself at her decision that stemmed from the fact that she had guessed that if this was indeed Silas’ favorite horse, he was likely very strict about the creature’s diet and would most likely not allow him to have any sugar.
Her father always told her, “the fastest way to befriend any living thing is to offer them something they would not be able to refuse.”
The easiest way to get the beast to trust her was to give him a treat, and by the time her fingers scratched between his ears, she knew that she had gotten him on her side.
“Hello,” she whispered, smiling when the horse huffed in her face. “What’s your name, handsome?”
“Scar,” Ella supplied from a few feet away, shrugging when the housekeeper glared at her. “Mrs. Safield, she seems very set on having her way. I doubt we would make things worse than they already are by telling her the horse’s name.”
“Scar,” Agnes tested out the name softly, stroking the horse’s neck. “That’s quite a name. It suits you.”
The horse leaned into her touch with a curt neigh, and she smiled, carefully reaching for the reins, holding it with one hand and guiding him into a slow trot while the other hand stayed scratching his neck.
After about a minute or two of walking around, she decided to try and see if he trusted her enough to let her ride him.
With a final scratch to his jaw, she moved to his side and tightened her grip on the reins along with a tuft of his mane, wedging a foot through the stirrup.
Her other hand came up to grab at the cantle of the saddle, and she sprung up off her feet, tossing her right leg over the saddle as she settled gently on top of it properly.
Scar shuffled around, seemingly adjusting to the new weight on his back, but he didn’t react badly otherwise.
Smiling at her success at mounting him, she adjusted the reins to ensure that she had a good but loose enough grip on them and sat upright, squeezing the horse’s sides with her lower leg.
Scar began to move forward almost immediately, and she released the pressure, letting him start off at a comfortable pace.
The ladies and Simon watched her trot off, and Beatrice took her eyes off her mistress for a moment to ask. “It seems to be going well so far. Do you think things will be fine after all?”
Marion watched Agnes ride farther away from the stable and sighed.
“We can only hope so, but regardless of what happens, we are already in deep trouble. No amount of prayer can save our souls at this point.”
Meanwhile, she had begun to gallop along the field, relishing the way the wind blew through her hair, the powerful way Scar landed with every step, moving further and faster with each breath she took.
She could not remember the last time she felt this free, this…
alive. She had not gotten to ride as much as she wanted to with her godmother, and it had severely dampened her spirits.
Now, she lived on the same grounds as a wonderful horse that felt as though it had been born straight from her desires. It was like with every passing moment, she felt reassured that things would improve, and truly, it was almost a matter of time before all that she wanted was laid before her.
Silas stepped down from the carriage and winced as he felt a crick in his neck, an effect of sitting through several work meetings and hours spent going over so many documents that required his review and signatures in order for numerous decisions to be carried out for his businesses.
His body felt heavier with each step he took, and he could not wait to take a bath, eat some food, and crawl beneath his covers, and pretend he knew nothing and no one outside of them.
As he approached the front door, laughter reached his ears and he came to a stop. Confused, he walked around the house, following the sound to the stable, eyes narrowing as he spotted the housekeeper, alongside two other maids and Simon, watching something in the distance.
“What on earth –” the words evaporated from his mind and throat as he followed their gazes and spotted Scar running around the grounds.
And on his back was Silas’ future wife.
At first, he could not find it in himself to do anything but stare in shock.
Scar was not known to be friendly. He could be quite vicious to new people, and even when he accepted their presence, it never transcended beyond tolerance. Many of the stable hands before Simon had problems because Scar would not let anyone else ride him except for Silas.
And yet, this woman had somehow charmed his horse after barely a day in his home.
Even Scar appeared to be enjoying himself, galloping around with a seemingly gleeful demeanor as they went round and round the grounds.
Agnes’ hair was whipping behind her in the wind as they moved, and her face looked flushed with joy – an expression that suited her greatly –
Silas’ fists curled by his side, and he stepped closer, ignoring the servants as they hurriedly bowed and greeted him, shouting at the woman riding his horse.
“Stop that! Get off him this instant!”
Agnes heard him and sighed, slowing Scar to a trot and leading him to where his owner stood, looking down at him with a frown.
“I said to get off him!” Silas snapped, looking angry.
Agnes did not heed him until they had gotten close to where the Duke was standing with the servants, and then she dismounted, turning to him with an irritated expression.
“Must you be so loud? It is not illegal to ride a horse, you know.”
Silas scoffed and whirled around to face the servants, pointing at Scar as he addressed them angrily.
“Did none of you tell her that no one but myself rides Scar? Why did you let her near him in the first place?”
Agnes stepped forward, putting herself between the servants and the Duke.
“Do not talk to them like that. They did nothing wrong. Yes, I was told that he is your favorite horse, and I was warned not to ride him because he was not keen on strangers – but as you can see, we got along quite well. Do not scold them for my actions. It is not as though they could have stopped me.”
Silas’ eye twitched in annoyance, and he waved the servants away, waiting until they were gone before he continued to speak.
“You seem to be under the impression that you can do as you please with my things. Last night, you refused to hand over his reins and berated me for being a bad owner. Today, here you are, riding him after you had been expressly warned not to –”
“Last night?” Agnes interrupted, confused, turning to pat Scar’s neck. “Was he the same horse you were riding last night?”
Silas folded his arms, sighing deeply as he fought back the angry irritation brewing beneath his skin.
“Yes, but that is beside the point. I believe we had an agreement to remain as civil and amicable as possible – until we got what we wanted. You are going against that deal with these displays of childishness.”
Agnes’ jaw dropped at the insult. “Childishness?”
“Yes. Only a child would act so stubbornly and refuse to behave after they have been expressly asked to.”
“I rode your horse! I did not set fire to your mansion or anything as nefarious as you are making this out to seem. I do not see why you are so upset.”
Agnes had never met a more irritating person in her life. He wore on her nerves with each word that left his mouth, and she had never really been a violent person, but this man seemed to conjure up murderous thoughts in her mind – with either him or her as the victim.
She had really wanted to ride Scar, and so she did.
Her decision had not been vindictive in any way, and neither had the goal been to upset Silas.
Yet here he was, belittling her again for a very small issue.
Agnes was starting to feel like this was simply what he was like – unnecessarily difficult – and she was quickly losing her ability to tolerate him.
“You are ridiculous. Of course, I am upset. That horse is mine – he has been for years, and I do not let just anyone near him, let alone ride him. Yet here you are, barely a day here, and you are already acting as though you own the place,” Silas said, anger flashing in his eyes.
“I cannot believe you. How –”
“How much for the horse?”
Agnes faltered, turning to the side to see a man walking towards them. She glanced at Silas and found him seeming more irritated than angry now, looking back at the man who had come to stand next to them.
“How much for the horse?” he repeated, looking at the Duke. “Silas? Can you not hear me?”
It was strange that this man would address Silas by his first name rather than his title or his last name. Agnes wondered if they were close but surmised by the look on Silas’ face that they were not.
“He is not for sale,” Silas replied through gritted teeth.
“What do you mean? Everything has a price; be a man and state yours.”
“I said he is not for sale. I have no intention of selling him. Ever,” Silas stated coldly.
The man pursed his lips and nodded grimly.
“I see. It’s a shame, really.” He glanced longingly at Scar. “He is such a majestic beast, but he will have to settle for second place because of his stubborn owner – because there is no way he is going to win against my team.”
It was almost funny to Agnes that Silas, who had called her stubborn, was being labeled the very same by someone else. Except that rather than being amused, she found herself irritated by the blatant display of disrespect, wanting to say something but unsure if she should.
There was definitely something between them, and if she intervened carelessly, it could spell trouble for Silas. She might not be fond of him, but she would not willingly sabotage him. Not unless it would bring him down a peg or two before her. If not, what would be the point?
“You sound so certain of your victory, Lord Hamilton,” Silas intoned stiffly. “I would not be so presumptuous if I were you. We both know how you’ve landed yourself in trouble countless times with that bad attitude.”
Lord Hamilton winced for a moment and then folded his arms, looking more like a petulant child than a bold man.
“Just because you have beat me several times in the past does not mean I am destined to lose to you forever.”
“Speak to me when you have actually won something,” Silas stated, his voice cold as he reached for Scar’s reins.
“Do not stand there and act as though it is your efforts that have granted you your success. You’re nothing more than a privileged little tot who has had everything handed to him all his life. When it comes down to it, you would not stand a chance against me. And you know it.”
It felt as though a line had been crossed, and Agnes stepped back, watching with bated breath what would happen next.