Page 26 of Duke It Out
“They’re so gorgeous. Are you coming with us today?” I address Tilly as she squirms with delight, rolling upright and shaking herself enthusiastically.
“I’ll leave them with Kate. Come on you two, let’s go.”
I follow him out to the courtyard where a dark grey Land Rover Defender is parked across the gravel with the doors wide open in the thin sunlight. The spaniels hop obediently into the back seat, and I climb into the front, moving a pile of papers onto the dashboard.
“Sorry about that,” Rory says, removing them and stuffing them down the side of the drivers’ door pocket.
“I imagined your car would be spotlessly tidy.”
“It’s a working Land Rover. They’re all shitholes.” His tone is as dry as ever. “Pass me the screwdriver from the glove, would you?”
I open the glove compartment and along with a jumble of receipts and a long piece of orange twine there’s a screwdriver, which I pass to him. A second later the engine judders into life.
“You don’t have a key?”
“Long story.”
We drive up the hill and back through the pines, along the neatly manicured driveway and turn left as we reach the single-track road, passing heather-covered moorland dotted with sheep and stands of woodland. I peer into the distance, trying to spot the castle but it’s hidden from view. I’m trying to keep myself distracted because being in such close proximity to Rory is harder than I thought, his long thigh close enough to my hand which is clenched by my side that I could reach out and run my hand along it without even thinking.
We turn left and I realise that the shapes I can see in the fields aren’t sheep. As we draw closer, I can see a white house and beyond it a huge stone wall with an archway and a clock tower overhead. We pass yet another discreet navy sign – Loch Morven Stud.
“Ready?”
I nod.
The stable yard is immaculate, each door painted the same dark blue as the signs. A girl with pink hair appears from a barn wheeling a barrow loaded with straw.
“Hello, sir—um, Your Grace.”
“Rory is fine,” he says, and the girl goes pinker than her hair and scuttles away back into the barn. It’s comforting to see I’m not the only one who finds him slightly intimidating. She pops her head out a moment later.
“Are you looking for Kate? She’s in the house doing some paperwork. Do you want me to go and get her?”
Rory shakes his head. “No, thanks. She’s expecting us.”
“Wait there,” he instructs me, and he too disappears into one of the rooms, returning a moment later with a velvet covered riding helmet. “That should fit, but if it doesn’t, there’s plenty more inside. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
He returns a few minutes later leading two horses and my stomach swoops with nerves. I haven’t ridden for years and Jamie’s throwaway comment last night left me wondering if part of my trial by fire was going to be sticking me on some half-tamed monster and seeing how long I lasted before being thrown off.
“This is Moss. There’s a mounting block over there if you need it.”
Moss looks at me through her long grey forelock and I put a hand out to cup her soft muzzle, letting her familiarise herself with my smell. “Hello, Moss,” I mutter as I lead her to the mounting block. “I would be eternally grateful if you could not make me look like a complete dick, please.”
Moss snorts and shifts her weight, her ears flicking back towards me. I take that as a yes. I hope that’s a yes. I cross my fingers for a moment, offer up a prayer to the gods of humiliation, and climb on board.
“Aha, there you are.” A friendly voice makes me turn as I’m adjusting my stirrups. A dark-haired girl of about my age looks up at me, smiling. She’s tanned from working outdoors, and her hair’s tied back in an untidy ponytail, wisps blowing around her face. She pushes them back with a forearm and smiles up at me, her freckled nose crinkling. “I’m Kate. You must be Edie. I see you and Moss are already friends.”
“I hope so,” I say, pulling a face.
“She’s a sweetie, don’t worry. Rory.” She turns to look at him, towering over us on the enormous brown horse. “I needto speak to you later about the plans for next season. Rosie is due to foal later this week and if I’m right and it’s a filly, we might be on course to make some changes.”
He nods briefly. “We’ll sort it later.”
Kate gives him a mock salute. “Enjoy,” she says, giving my horse a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t let that one boss you around.”
Rory shoots her a furious look and Kate grins. “You know exactly what I mean.”
She leans back against the door of a stable and crosses one ankle over the other, looking at us with amusement. I wish I felt half as laidback.
