CHAPTER TEN #2
‘Evidently he went home with someone else after leaving his horses back at the meet. He hadn’t even undone his girths, let alone taken any tack off.
Typical, entitled, thankless Louis, I’m afraid.
Leaving the work to be done by someone else.
’ Rafe sighed, raising his eyes to heaven.
‘Let’s not talk about Louis though. On a much happier note – looking at you, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I’m guessing you’ve had a good day?
’ He thought how happiness suited her; it clung to her like stardust. The stifling hesitancy that seemed to tether her had visibly lessened in the barrelling thrust of the day.
‘You rode Ajax beautifully. Have I lost him for ever?’
‘It was a complete dream … I really cannot thank you enough.’
Sage started as the hoot of an owl sounded from the belfry of the Norman church tower with an eerie echo and felt restless all of a sudden. Talk of for ever was far too soon.
Rafe took back his reins but made no move to remount, instead shrugging off his coat and laying it on Warhorse’s quarters behind his old-fashioned saddle, which had no knee rolls and a seat that looked as hard as wood.
Sage hurried to do the same, draping her small black coat over as much of Ajax’s dappled back as it could cover, before sliding off the tired horse.
Her knees buckled on landing and, unbalanced, she lurched sideways.
Rafe deftly reached out a long arm to catch her before she hit the cold, hard road that gleamed with the beginning of a glistening frost in the silver light of the creeping moon.
She leant against him for a moment, basking in his body’s warmth, then turned away back to Ajax, letting down his girths and undoing his noseband so that he could pick at the grass.
She trembled in just her shirt and a jersey, for the air was sharp and clear.
She remembered hacking home with her mother after a long day and how it had always felt like a hundred miles back to the lorry.
‘I feel extremely spoilt having grooms to look after me. It really is a whole different ball game. My grandfather always talks about hacking ten miles to meets, hunting all day and then hacking home again – he’d think us very soft standing here, shivering, waiting for the lorry!
’ Sage tried to stop her teeth chattering too loudly but it was hopeless; they clattered together like castanets.
‘I know, my pa is the same – thinks we’re all a bunch of privileged drips – but sadly life is just too chaotically busy for me to spend all day riding about, so you’ll have to slum it with drivers and grooms when you hang out with me.
’ Rafe took off his waistcoat and wrapped it around Sage’s narrow shoulders.
It was warm and smelt of Pears soap, hay and earth.
She tried to resist but it was futile; she huddled into it gladly and turned once more to face him.
‘Oh, I’m not complaining, Rafe. I’ve had more fun today than I’ve had in years!’
‘We’ll have to bring little Hal on his yellow pony next time. I don’t manage to get out much because I’m so busy racing, but you can borrow Ajax any time – he would love it and I reckon he’d take to being a lead-rein horse very quickly.’
Rafe wanted to sweep her up, she looked so cold and small and totally lost in thought. The moon was casting its light upon her face, making her appear almost childlike in the pale glow, but he could sense her timidity and knew that she would bolt like a startled deer if he moved too quickly.
‘Have you got a girlfriend?’ Sage asked suddenly.
Thoughts of hunting without Rafe grated and then the words spilt involuntarily from her lips.
She almost clapped a hand over her mouth, surprised that she was showing her hand this easily – she was so used to bottling up any emotion around Santiago.
‘If work is so busy, I mean.’ Her automatic reaction was to shut down, self-preservation rising.
She took a step away from the warmth of Rafe’s body.
Rafe looked at her steadily.
‘I had a girlfriend. I was in America, working as an assistant trainer. It was pretty serious at the time but – well, it went south. I haven’t wanted another relationship since her …
It ended badly.’ Rafe was uncertain how much to tell her; he was not used to talking about matters of the heart, and it did not come naturally to him.
‘That’s cryptic.’ Sage felt so muddled. The spasm of jealousy that shot through her at the thought of Rafe having loved another girl had caught her off guard.
She took another step backwards into the cold night.
She remembered Rafe’s fury at the lad who had been riding the Gardener and the feelings of unease it had stirred up.
She reluctantly lifted her eyes. She had never seen even a glint of this temper again; he was unfailingly kind and courteous to everyone.
He looked like a fallen angel standing there, his human-shy horse resting his great, grey head upon his master’s shoulder.
Green froth dribbled from Warhorse’s mouth down Rafe’s immaculate shirtsleeves but he was unconcerned, stroking the velvety muzzle thoughtfully, his dark eyes watching Sage, his generous mouth pursed in consternation.
Rafe emanated kindness and sincerity; he was the very antithesis of her appalling husband.
Sage wanted to reach out to him but shoved her hands into the pockets of her breeches instead.
This was absurd; she hardly knew him. She turned back to Ajax and avoided Rafe’s gaze, gently chastising herself.
The hunt lorry arrived and the huntsman began loading his hounds, counting them in to make sure they were all there.
His tired horse, now wearing a thick rug and a headcollar over his tack, waited at the bottom of the ramp, ready to go home.
Once he had safely loaded all hounds into the lorry, he finally led his sleepy horse up the ramp and closed the back with a crash.
‘Good night,’ he called, climbing behind the wheel while his groom moved across the cab into the other seat.
‘Night night! Thank you,’ chorused Rafe and Sage in harmony; they laughed at their synchronicity.
As the hunt lorry pulled out of the church car park, Rafe’s pulled in. A thunderous-looking Rosy was driving, with another girl groom sitting beside her.
It only took a few minutes for the four of them to untack, rug up and load Warhorse and Ajax onto the lorry.
Once they were all back at the yard, the horses were then tied up beside Louis’s two, who had already been washed off and unplaited, their manes crinkled as though they had spent the afternoon being permed at the hairdresser’s.