As she crossedthe garden with Jenny, Georgiana had decided to put all thought of Lord Ryland’s ball from her head, as she had a far more important thing to think of. Lady Mendleton was determined to take her to Hyde Park to promenade and she had yet to even examine a sidesaddle closely. She had seen no end of ladies on them, but of course their skirts covered up the mechanics of the thing. She had a general idea that one of their legs wrapped round a large pommel, which seemed simple enough, but she had to be sure.
Her decision to stop thinking of the ball was not particularly successful, as there was the difficulty of not thinking about her time with Lord Langley. He was so handsome and full of sense and subtly urbane. He was manly, in a certain way that she had not encountered before. It was not blustery or forceful, it was as if he were confident of himself without having to shout it from the rooftops.
There was no doubt in her mind that whatever Lady Mendleton’s hopes might be, Lord Langley was not enamored of Lady Annabelle. Of course, that did not mean much. She was certain there must be a lady whohadcaught his eye. Lord Langley was a viscount and would eventually become an earl. The lady he would wed would be the daughter of some highly placed lord, perhaps the daughter of a duke, who could graciously step into the role of countess.
Georgiana supposed she had enjoyed a certain standing in her own little neighborhood as being the daughter of the local baron. But here! Here, she was only the daughter of some rustic lord, low on the ladder, and not something to look twice at. Worse, Lord Bertridge had referred to her as acause.
She must stop thinking about Lord Langley! OrJasper, as she sometimes thought of him.
She had managed to convince Lady Mendleton that it was imperative for her to meet her horse well ahead of mounting her. Georgiana claimed it was a notion strictly enforced by her father. Lady Mendleton had thought the idea eccentric, but had finally agreed to it.
Fortunately, it was no hard task to arrange. The mews sat directly behind the house with a small pass-through gate at the back of the garden. Jenny was just now escorting her to the stables and she went at a brisk pace as if she were no stranger to the trip. Carstares would be on hand there to show her the horse, as when the family stayed in Town, the fellow was both coachman and stablemaster. Of course, she would be delighted to have a look at Minerva, but what shereallywished to see was her saddle.
“Here we are,” Jenny said as they reached the gate. She unlocked the latch and they went through to a narrow alley that led to the front of the building.
Lord Mendleton’s stables were commodious, and exceedingly clean. It had the subtle smell of hay and horse, but it was clear enough that the stalls were cleaned out regular and thorough. Georgiana thought that, for all Carstares’ grumpiness, he ran what her father would call a neat-kept cupboard.
He tipped his cap and showed her the way to the stall.
Minerva was a large chestnut and Georgiana could see instantly that she was indeed as spirited as Lord Mendleton had claimed. One need not ride a horse to get such a clue—Minerva was nosy, peering out of her stall as they approached, she shook her head, snorted, and her eyes were wide and bright. Short of kicking the stall door, this horse spoke of energy and excitement.
“Mr. Perry said you was to meet the horse?” Carstares said, his dubiousness all too evident.
“Indeed,” Georgiana said, rubbing Minerva’s nose. “And if you would not mind, may I see the saddle you will employ?”
Carstares appeared even more dubious overthatrequest, but he waved to a groom to fetch it.
Georgiana had brought an apple with her, knowing full well that there were two ways into a horse’s heart—favored treats and a competent rider. As she did not know if she would fulfill the second criteria, she thought she ought to come prepared with the first.
The boy brought the sidesaddle forward and placed it on a nearby sawhorse while Georgiana examined it. As she looked at all its parts, having a general idea of how she was to seat herself on it, Carstares said, “Do somethin’ seem unusual about it?”
“Not unusual precisely,” Georgiana said. “It differs somewhat from what I’m used to, so of course if there were any tips? Any particular thing to ensure I kept my seat?”
“Now that gives me the shivers,” Jenny said, “even thinking about falling down that great height. I wouldn’t like to try it myself.”
“What’s different about it?” Carstares said, staring at the saddle as if the difference would spring at him.
“Not so much different as…not exactly the same.”
A light seemed to come on in Carstares’ eyes. “Is you in the habit of ridin’ astride, then? My sister does favor it, though she’s in a lonely corner of Cornwall and nobody blinks over it.”
“Oh, does she?” Georgiana said, wondering how much she ought to admit to Carstares. “Well, from time to time I might…”
“I see,” Carstares said. “Well here it is—your knee goes round there,” he said, pointing at the pommel. “Lean back a bit more than you’re used to, use a cane like you would your right leg to direct your horse—lightly—Minerva knows what she’s doing. That’s about it, I think, though I never tried it myself.”
“Oh yes, precisely as I do at home,” Georgiana said, trying to imagine using the cane instead of her right leg. Of course she had seen ladies holding such an instrument but she’d paid so little attention to it that she supposed she’d assumed it was a decoration of some sort. It would take all her concentration—she hardly thought about what she was doing when she rode astride, she just did it. Now, her right leg was to be decommissioned.
Georgiana thanked Carstares and patted Minerva before leaving with Jenny. On the way through the back garden, she said, “Jenny, I do not suppose there would be any cause to mention the details of my trip to the stables?”
“Mention it?” Jenny said. “I don’t see why I would. If a lady wants to ride astride she ought not be bothered ‘bout it, even if she ain’t in Cornwall like Mr. Carstares’ sister. I never did know he had a sister, so that’s interesting. I wonder what she’s like. Anyhow, nobody likes a gossip.”
“That’s very true,” Georgiana said. Though, she did have some doubts about Jenny’s strict adherence tonotbeing a gossip. The girl could be very voluble and had told her no end of tidbits about the other servants while she curled Georgiana’s hair or helped her into a dress. Georgiana was certain it was not her business to know that one of the kitchen maids was in love with Mr. Brummel or that Perry was in the habit of a small glass of sherry before retiring or that the cook often swore in French thinking nobody understood him, or that the mysterious Mrs. Ripperton who had been left in the country slept more than she woke.
Georgiana decided not to dwell on it. If Jenny spoke of their odd visit to the stables, she did not suppose the other servants would find much interest in it. More importantly, sidesaddles worked just as she’d thought they did, she must just acclimate to it. And to Minerva.
*
Jasper had watchedout of a second floor window as Miss Wilcox had gone to the stables. His mother had told him she was adamant aboutmeeting her horse.What was she really doing though? Why did she wish to get a look at the stables?
