CHAPTER FOURTEEN #3
There was a tower on the grey slate roof with a noble old copper clock face.
Chickens of all different shapes and colours pecked about on the cobbles and curious, elegant thoroughbred faces appeared at the stable windows to peer out.
An old man came out of the tack room; he was dressed in a worn tweed coat and brown corduroys and his brown skin was lined and weathered.
He removed his flat cap when he saw Rafe.
‘Good morning, sir. I didn’t know you were coming home!’ His face broke into a toothy grin and he marched across to them; he was surprisingly agile, belying his elderly appearance. Rafe shook his hand warmly.
‘Mr Underwood, this is Sage.’ He turned to her. ‘Mr Underwood is our stud groom, he’s been here since I was a boy. Sage is my, erm – friend.’ For once, he seemed uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
Mr Underwood’s eyes twinkled knowingly and he held out his calloused hand to Sage.
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sage. Do you like horses?’
They immediately got off on the right foot.
Sage was given a tour of every brood mare, yearling and foal in the place and, moving on to the second yard, was introduced to each impressive hunter too.
As the clock struck the hour, its loud bells chiming through the old stable yard, Rafe made their excuses and led her and the dogs back towards the house.
‘He’s amazing, Rafe. How old is he? Does he still ride?’ Sage asked, holding tightly onto his hand as they walked through a garden where lines of immaculately tended box hedges formed four neat beds, each filled with dormant rose plants. She wondered what it would look like in the summer.
‘Mr Underwood must be at least two hundred – he seemed about a hundred when I was a boy. Yes, he still rides. He’s out every morning on the wildest thoroughbreds we’ve got, and the day he stops riding will be the day he departs this world.’
Everything did make sense, seeing Rafe in his natural environment.
The sense of duty born from the history of his ancestors, the sense of a line being continued.
His innate maturity that tempered his naturally kind and light-hearted temperament.
How could she ever have worried that he was anything else?
People would depend on him, they would look to him as an example. They already did.
He led her up some stone steps and through a studded door into a hall that was full of light and warmth from an open fire burning merrily in the grate.
Beyond this, she could see a much larger stone hall through an arched doorway.
The dogs disappeared, following the delicious smells of cooking food.
‘Seems we’re having lunch here in the garden hall, it’s all laid up.
Look – Mum has even found my old Peter Rabbit crockery for Hal.
’ Rafe pointed to a Beatrix Potter plate and a little two-handled cup placed on the round polished table, which was surrounded by chairs upholstered in ornate tapestry.
‘She’s even unearthed one of the old kitchen chairs we always used as kids. Good old Mum.’ He was pleased.
Sage noted that there were six places.
‘Who else is coming for lunch?’
‘It’ll be us, Mum, Dad and Louis probably,’ Rafe said distractedly, as the sound of distant footsteps clattered down the long passageway outside.
Sage wished that she was not wearing an ancient pair of Casper’s jeans and two jerseys including Rafe’s green cashmere, which was rolled up twice on the sleeves so she could use her hands.
She felt horribly underdressed in the face of the house’s dignified splendour, and looking at Rafe – immaculate as ever in a pale blue shirt, tie and navy cords – she felt even scruffier.
‘I’m a mess!’ she wailed softly, backing towards the door.
Rafe put his hands out and held firmly onto her forearms. Sage looked at the floor, avoiding his eyes.
‘Relax, you crazy filly. You are the most effortlessly elegant woman that I have ever met. Even in old hand-me-downs with rolled-up sleeves. My parents will just be over the moon. I have actually never brought a girl home before – I know they’ve been worried!
They’re typical old-fashioned types, haven’t quite caught up with the twenty-first century.
Honestly, they’ll love you just like I do. ’
Sage took comfort from his words and raised her eyes to meet his.
‘Am I really the first girl you’ve brought home?’
‘You really are.’ The depth of his gaze, more serious all of a sudden, made her stomach flip. She managed to pull herself together just as Constance and Louis appeared.
‘Don’t worry, Sage,’ Constance boomed in her loud, cut-glass voice, ‘I haven’t lost the little one.
He has taken a shine to Walter, and they’re in the library poring over the atlas.
They’ll be along shortly – they’re still busy discussing Deepest, Darkest Peru.
’ Although brisk, she had a sympathetic edge to her manner that made her approachable and not too terrifying.
‘Has he been all right? I hope he’s not bothering Lord Walter.’ Sage flushed, still feeling slightly awkward. Louis was wearing ripped jeans and a black Metallica sweatshirt, which made her feel marginally better.
‘Gosh, no – Hal is wonderful, my dear. It’s a real treat to have him here in the house livening us up.
He’s very bright – he knew where Antarctica was on the map.
We were impressed. He’s been telling us all about Custard too.
’ Constance smiled fondly as she moved efficiently about the room fetching the salt and pepper from the sideboard and changing the glasses on the table for different ones in the huge Welsh dresser.
‘I’ve put Grouse in the kitchen with my two, they’re all curled up next to the Aga with a bone each.
Let’s go through to the drawing room. I’ve asked them to do lunch early but it won’t be ready for a while yet.
’ She ushered them into a large, panelled drawing room filled with enormous mullion windows, squashy sofas, fresh flowers and sublime art.
‘So, brother, congratulations are in order,’ Louis drawled, lighting a cigarette. Everyone braced themselves for him to say something toe-curlingly uncomfortable and extremely premature. ‘You had a good win yesterday,’ he continued with a grin. ‘Father was happy,’
‘I was very happy indeed!’ Lord Walter confirmed, coming up the steps and through the stone doorway.
He was dressed in startlingly bright red trousers and a shirt, tie and tweed coat.
He made his way straight over to Sage, who was standing beside the roaring fire.
She looked behind him for Hal. ‘The little whippersnapper is coming. I’ve given him the atlas and it’s proving rather cumbersome for him to carry about!
’ he laughed, as Hal appeared, dragging an enormous book that was almost as tall as he was.
Bending down, Lord Walter kissed Sage on both cheeks.
‘What a fine fellow he is. He says he already has a pony. Good, good. We can still get Merrylegs out of retirement for the boy when he visits though.’ He beamed at Sage and looked expectantly at her.
Sage smiled back at him. She was overwhelmed by his warm acceptance of her and Hal. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts.
‘That’s so kind of you, but you’d never get rid of us if we took advantage of you like that!’
Rafe said with a smile, ‘Dad, I think old Merrylegs is perfectly happy in retirement. He’d probably keel over in horror if we put a saddle on him again after all these years.
’ Turning to Sage, he went on, ‘Merrylegs is the ancient pink pony you saw in the front paddock. He taught Louis and me to ride, a very long time ago.’
Lord Walter looked at Hal for a moment and then said, ‘Hmm, you might have a point. We’ll find another pony for him then. Constance, you can go pony shopping,’ he finished contentedly, the master of delegation.
Constance looked at her elder son. Her husband was assuming far too much, far too quickly and she was worried that Rafe might be annoyed and take his relationship underground again.
He was normally so private, and she was delighted that he had brought Sage and Hal to meet them; it was totally uncharacteristic.
It must surely mean it was serious between them.
‘Walter, I think you might be getting over-excited. We don’t know if Hal will want to visit us again,’ she said diplomatically.
‘Oh, I think he might become a regular visitor to Crockford.’ Rafe smiled cheerfully, catching Sage’s eye and putting a hand on her arm. ‘I’d say that pony shopping could be on the agenda in the future, for sure.’