Page 137 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘Young Miss Eveline showed him for us at the Grange, my lady, and he went very nicely indeed, carries his head well and doesn’t pull.’

Archer said, ‘I had a quick little go of him bareback, my lady, after Miss Eveline had done, and he seemed quite light in hand, but of course you can’t tell what a horse is like sidesaddle when you ride him across.’

‘I wish I could try him for you,’ her ladyship said wistfully. ‘Seeing him makes me wish my riding days were not done.’

‘I’m sure if—’ Giddins began eagerly.

‘Thank you, Giddins,’ Giles interrupted, before he could offer to take her out. At her age!

Grandmère gave him a level look, divining his thoughts. But she said, ‘Bring him to me again, Giddins.’ She stripped off her glove and caressed the horse about the head and neck, seeing that he was comfortable with hands, and friendly. Obviously he had never been roughly treated. Giddins sidled up to her and shyly offered her some horse-nuts from his pocket, which she accepted to give to the animal. He snaffled them up gently, and she was satisfied. ‘I think he will do very well,’ she said. ‘What does Kitty think?’

‘She hasn’t seen him yet. He was to be a surprise for her.’

‘Then I hope she likes him.’

‘It’s her wedding gift from me,’ Giles said. Grandmère raised an eyebrow. ‘I didn’t know what to get for her,’ he excused himself. ‘People seemed mostly to think it should be jewellery, but Mama told me she would have liked a dog, only Papa bought her paintings.’

‘Ah, those Corots!’ Grandmère sighed. ‘Not his best work. Very well, a horse is a more thoughtful gift, if that’s what she will like.’

‘I think she will. She loves horses. They’re …’ He hesitated, then went on. ‘She’s never been afraid of them, the way she is of people.’

Grandmère nodded. She stroked the chestnut’s muzzle, and he half closed his eyes. ‘What is his name?’ she asked Giddins.

‘Apollo, my lady.’

‘Well, that is very nice. Eh bien, Giles, give me your arm as far as the house. Thank you, Giddins.’

When they were away from any ears, he said, ‘Did you really come to the stable-yard to see the horse?’

‘Why should you doubt? I like horses. When Simone said Moss had told her it had come, I said, “I must see for myself, because I go home tomorrow, so I shall not have another chance.”’

‘Hmm,’ said Giles. ‘So there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to me in private?’

‘I think I should like a turn on the terrace,’ she said. ‘Oblige me by walking with me.’

She would never be hurried. He fitted his steps to hers, and waited. Her hand was feather-light on his arm. She walked him up to the stone balustrade, below which the ground fell away towards the valley bottom, with the view over the Ash. Ashmore Carr was along to the left, and the village of Canons Ashmore nestling in its fold was straight ahead, the spire of St Peter’s poking up through the golden trees.

She sighed. ‘Sometimes I miss it – the Castle. The place. The long view. In Town, there are no horizons.’

‘You could come back,’ he said.

‘And live here?’ She gave him an amused look. ‘You wish to compound your problems even more? Besides, Maud and I could never live under one roof. But you are a good boy for suggesting it. I wish I had got to know you better, Giles, but you were never here. Always running away.’

‘I didn’t—’

‘You did. But you cannot run away from yourself, because yourself is always waiting at the other end. And there is one thing that will bring you back, however far you run – reel you in like a fish on a line.’

‘The place?’ he suggested, amused by her philosophising.

‘Duty,’ she said. ‘Ah, you laugh inside. Foolish old woman, you think. I see it in your eyes. But there is always one in every family on whom duty alights, like the wicked fairy with the unwanted gift. Don’t fight against it, Giles, mon cher, or you will be miserable. And now you had better go and find Kitty and show her her horse, before someone else tells her about it and she wonders why she is the last to know. Poor Giles,’ she said, as they turned and walked towards the house, ‘you really don’t know much about women, do you?’

‘I’ve never had to,’ he said, a little stung.

‘Ça se voit. But it is never too late to learn,’ she said blithely.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Rain and wind were stripping the leaves from the trees, changing the look from autumn to winter. Riding was impossible for several days, and when a still, dry day finally arrived, Rachel hoped that, having been kept apart by the weather for so long, Victor would know without being told that she would be at the old barn, and would go up there without a definite agreement.