Chapter One
Geraldine sniffed cheerfully the next morning, enjoying the snap of cold air which carried with it the scent of winter snows. Her breath clouded around her face and the sky was already showing signs of a rosy sunrise.
It was one of her favourite times; moments of quiet and solitude as the new day dawned, and she strode across the short distance from the house she lived in to the stables that had become her true home.
Pausing for a moment, she turned, looking at the familiar building behind her.
The name Holly Grange sounded as if it should have been a thatch-roofed dwelling with a little garden.
Instead, it was a quite respectably sized building, in the style of a country manor, with windows gleaming in the early light and the red brick aged to a lovely warm shade that threw the ivy and wisteria vines into prominence.
Turning back to complete her walk, she observed Holly Stables.
Built of the same brick, the U-shaped courtyard was spotless, tended with care by Jepson and his minions.
On one side were the half doors, closed now against the cold, but later they would open, and the occupants of those stalls would put their heads out to see what was going on.
Horses were nothing if not curious about their surroundings.
More doors adjoined that section, but on the other side the biggest ones were opening as the grooms began their day; feeding, cleaning, turning the hay…all the duties that made Holly Stables a renowned and popular stop for those who loved horses.
A yell from inside the barn told Geraldine that Jepson was up and about, making sure everyone knew their jobs. One portion of that building had been set aside for the grooms, and she knew it was snug and comfortable.
Her Papa was a wise man when it came to his stables and those who kept everything running smoothly.
She wished he could be as wise when it came to his daughter.
Pushing that thought away, she opened the gate to the stable courtyard and called out a hullo to the lads emerging with wheelbarrows and brooms.
Well-used to her morning appearance, they nodded and touched their caps, going about their business without a second look.
Jepson, on the other hand, stood with both hands on his hips, frowning at her.
“’Tis too early for ladies,” he grumbled.
“What lady?” Geraldine raised her eyebrows and looked around. “I see no ladies, Jepson.” She walked up to him and stared at his face. “Are you still asleep? Dreaming of those ladies I’m not supposed to know about who managed to put smiles on the faces of you and your lads here?”
That comment won the staring contest as Jepson rolled his eyes and looked away. “Far too cheeky, Miss Gerry. If yer parents ever heard some of the words comin’ out of that mouth of yers, yer Papa would have yer over his knee. Yer wouldn’t sit down for a week.”
She snorted. “I’m sure he’s heard worse, and probably from you.”
Jepson shook his head. “’Tis too early. I can’t be arguin’ at this hour.”
“Good, because I’ve come to visit my darling. Maybe get in a short ride. And then work with the colt if the weather holds.”
“C’mon then. She’ll be waitin’ fer yer.”
The two of them walked side by side into the stables, Geraldine grinning as the scents and sounds she loved so much surrounded her.
And a quick, sharp neigh alerted her to the fact a special lady awaited her attentions.
“She knows yer, that one.”
“Of course. She has my heart, and she knows it.”
Walking past the other stalls, Geraldine reached the one at the far end, to find a grey head turning her way.
“Hallo, my love.” She hurried to the horse. “And how is my beauty today?” Her hand stroked the long nose, gentle rubs that met with a snuffle of approval.
“She’s a beauty. Yer got that right.” Jepson grinned as he watched the two of them.
“I knew she’d win you over,” Geraldine grinned back.
“Aye, she’s done that.” He humphed, a little embarrassed. “But she’ll not win any races, girl. She’s got power right enough. But not speed, I’m thinking.”
“Don’t listen to him, darling.” She leaned her head against the horse’s, sighing as the two of them nuzzled each other with affection. “He has no idea of your true talents.”
“I seen yer dancing with her,” said Jepson. “She’s one fer the fancy stuff, fer certain. But racing? Nah. She don’t have the legs fer it.”
Geraldine snorted, a sound echoed by the large nostrils resting on her shoulder. “Just you wait and see.”
The old man’s eyes narrowed. “If yer thinking about the Mistletoe Cup again, lass, put that right out o’ yer mind.”
Her chin shot up. “And why is that?”
“Yer a woman. Or would be if yer’d dress like one now and agin.”
She glanced down at her breeches, stolen from her brother’s wardrobe shortly after he left for university.
“There is nothing wrong with dressing sensibly. I’d have ruined my entire collection of dresses in a month if I’d worn them while mucking out stalls and working with the horses. You know that.”
“O’course I do.” He sighed. “Yer missin’ the point. Yer a girl. Yer should dress like one. Especially since yer gettin’ near time ter pick a husband.”
“Hah.” Geraldine shook her head. “If you think I get to pick one, you’re quite mistaken. My parents will pick my husband. I shall have no say in the matter whatsoever. Even now they’re talking about Mr Francis Rovington…”
“Well, he seems ter like horses,” offered Jepson.
She rolled her eyes and leaned her head against her horse. “Seems to, all right. But he knows next to nothing about them. Wouldn’t know a fetlock from a hollyhock, I swear.”
Jepson shook his head. “Glad I ain’t a girl then. But all that aside, yer can’t race in the Mistletoe Cup, so get that right out yer ’ead, missy.”
On that stern reminder, Jepson turned on his heel and walked away down the centre aisle, tossing commands and comments to the grooms along the way.
Geraldine turned to her horse. “Flora, my sweet, ignore the silly man. He loves you too, but he doesn’t know you like I do.”
The big dark eyes watched her, intelligence and interest shining through.
“We could do it, couldn’t we? You and I? We could snap up that Cup from all the other silly men around here who don’t appreciate their mounts.”
Flora gave a little whinny.
Geraldine smiled. “I see you agree with me.” She rubbed her cheek against the soft hair. “We’ll have a good ride in a bit. Just the two of us. But I must go and help a youngster get used to his saddle first. Jepson will give you breakfast and then I’ll come to you. I promise.”
One more quick kiss on the tip of Flora’s nose, and she hurried off to find the appropriate tack and the young four-legged lad who was about to learn exactly what he was supposed to wear today.
A week later, several miles away, a smart town carriage rocked and bumped its way over the country roads. One of the occupants simply reached for the strap next to the window and hung on. The other wasn’t quite so complacent.
“I declare, Blaine, this is the most ridiculous trip.” A fretful young lady, dressed in the very height of fashion, pouted.
“You roust me out of bed at an absurd hour, insist that I prepare for a journey into the country, and whisk me out of town without even giving me a chance to pen notes of regret to the friends I was supposed to be with this morning.” She frowned out of the carriage window.
“That assumes it actually is morning. Since it was dark when we left, I cannot imagine that the sun has really risen yet.” Her gaze returned to the man opposite.
“You surely are quite beastly, you know.”
Her companion sighed. “It is early, I’ll agree.
But really, Millicent, doesn’t that also make it too early for dramatics?
You were well aware that today we planned on coming down to Kendall Hall.
Since Papa has passed away, it is now my duty to tend to the property.
And it is your duty to appear at my side as the dutiful sister, mourning the loss of her father. ”
“A duty neither of us bothered with when he was alive,” she retorted.
“I cannot see why the lawyers aren’t taking care of everything.
He didn’t like us, and we didn’t like him.
I still don’t like him, even though he’s dead.
” She shot a disgusted look down at her garments.
“I hate black, grey is dull, and going into mourning for a parent one despised seems ridiculous in the extreme.”
Sir Blaine Kendall shrugged at his sister. “One must do what is expected sometimes, my dear. This, unfortunately, is one of those times.”
“Hmph.” She stared from the window.
“Besides, if it hasn’t fallen into decay, I might consider keeping the property active.”
Millicent shot him a quick glance. “Really?”
“It’s close enough to town to be convenient,” he replied. “A couple of weeks in the summer, perhaps. Or hunting?” He too stared out of the window. “And then there are the stables.”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “God forbid we forget the stables.”
“I recall a time when every single horse in those stables was a winner,” Blaine mused.
“Every one, Millicent. Of course, you were probably too young to remember, but Papa used to be so excited about his trophies. Nothing was spared when it came to breeding and training, not to mention the finest jockeys.”
“Decades ago.” She waved it aside. “Probably all broken down by now. Let’s be honest with each other, Blaine. Papa was not…not in his right mind. Which is why we left, if you remember.”
“Do you think I could forget?”
Silence fell as his sister simply bit her lip and turned her gaze from his face. No, she hadn’t forgotten, and neither had he.
The scars had healed, but the memory of his own father taking a horsewhip to him in the middle of a violent and uncontrolled rage – that had never faded. Ten years had passed, during which there had been no contact at all between parent and children.
The night he’d collected his sister and told her they were going to London remained etched into his memory.
He could clearly recall his aunt’s face when she saw what her brother had done to his back.
She’d welcomed them, housed them, and given them a life they could never have enjoyed at Kendall Hall.
He had to wonder if the stables had suffered along with the family.
But even though his father’s behaviour had changed after a serious fall from a horse, his love for the creatures had seemed undiminished.
It had taken a full year for the latent effects of his injury to make themselves known.
Sir Robert Kendall developed an utter disgust for humans, including his family, which he made no attempt to hide.
And yet he retained his affection for his equine friends.
He sighed. There was no way to anticipate what lay ahead of them, but Blaine felt instinctively that he was doing the right thing by coming down to Kendall less than three weeks after his father’s death.
Did he regret their estrangement?
No. There had been moments when he’d wished for a father at his side. Times when he would have appreciated and valued paternal advice.
But his aunt and uncle had filled the void admirably, and he could say with total honesty that he’d not really felt the lack at all.
Millicent had thrived and bloomed, becoming a much sought-after young lady.
This particular fact alone would have been sufficient to send Blaine to Kendall, since the time was fast approaching for her to make her debut, and that would be immediately followed by a flood of requests for her hand.
She was a beauty, and she knew it. But until her financial situation could be settled, suitors would merely sniff around and make nuisances of themselves. Thus, he had to decide what to do with Kendall Hall.
The carriage slowed, and both occupants straightened, Millicent looking out of the window. “I think we’re near,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice. “I seem to remember that hill and those trees…”
With a confidence he was far from feeling, Blaine reached out and took her gloved hand. “It’ll be fine, Millie. I promise.”