Page 38 of Lady for a Season
“And Edward?”
“They are glad to have Edward home. Atherton Park needs a master, and his father was not always… kind.”
Only a few days went by before Celine had Maggie try on a new article of clothing.
“It is a riding habit, Old John the stablemaster has said he has a horse for you and will bring it round the day after tomorrow.”
The dress Celine was offering was different to what Maggie had worn so far, a stiff woollen dress with long sleeves in a deep red, far wider and longer in the skirt than any of her other dresses.
“It leaves room for you to sit in the saddle without any impropriety,” said Celine, speaking through the pins held in her mouth. “It is too big, but it will do while you learn.”
The morning came and Joseph summoned Maggie to the front door, where a groom was standing with a chestnut mare. Edward stood behind her, framed in the doorway, unwilling to come any closer.
“Morning Miss,” the groom said. “Old John chose Lacey himself, he says she’s a gentle one, just right for a lady to learn on.”
The saddle had two padded pommels, one pointing straight up, the other curving to one side.
“You’ll ride with your legs to the left, Miss, unless you’ve already learnt to ride to the right?”
“I’ve not learnt to ride at all,” protested Maggie.
“Left boot in my cupped hands, Miss, then when I do say ‘Up,’ I shall lift, and you must spring up so I can lift you up onto the saddle.”
Maggie tried to follow the instructions.
“Up.”
She tried to push herself upwards as the groom lifted, but she was a little behind him and so instead of a smooth spring upwards, there was a lift followed by a jump when the lift had already lost its power. Instead of finding herself in the saddle, she was pushed against the horse, which stepped away, leavingher stumbling, one foot still held by the groom, now exposing too much of her leg, almost to the knee. He quickly let go of her foot.
Several more clumsy attempts were made, with Maggie’s cheeks growing flushed with embarrassment at nearly falling into the groom’s arms, when Edward stepped forward.
“Let me help.”
“But Your Grace…”
But Edward had already approached Maggie and was holding out his cupped hands for her foot.
“I don’t think I am very able,” gasped Maggie, feeling foolish.
“Of course you are. Your foot,” insisted Edward.
She placed her left foot in his hands, her right hand on the horse’s back.
“Up.”
She sprang and this time she and Edward were perfectly in synchrony, his lift giving her spring power, and she was suddenly solidly in the saddle, Edward guiding her foot so that her right knee wrapped round one part of the pommel, her left leg snug beside it, held in place with the second part. The excessive folds of the riding habit had maintained her dignity throughout the movement, now spreading out around her so that only the tips of her boots stuck out from the fabric.
Relieved, she looked for Edward, but he had already retreated to the steps. His hands, she saw, were shaking.
“That’s it,” said the groom encouragingly. “And now hold the reins. Like this.” He demonstrated, then passed them to her to hold, which she did, awkwardly.
“Not so tight,” he said. “Don’t pull. Elbows down and in and I’ll take you for a walk.”
“I don’t –” began Maggie, but the groom had already led the horse forwards on a leading rein, and it took all her concentration to balance, tightening her thighs around the twin pommels, trying not to tighten the reins out of fear. But as theswaying of the horse’s slow plod continued, she relaxed. She was taken round the grounds for a brief walk, then returned to the front door, where Edward, smiling, watched her dismount, which she managed, although she landed ungracefully, stepping on her long skirts.
The lessons continued daily, and after the first few Maggie learnt to get into the saddle with the groom’s assistance, rather than Edward’s.
“Just as well,” said Edward, “I think thetonwould be horrified to see a duke acting as a groom, don’t you?”
