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"She's a beauty, isn't she?" Lord Havenshire asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as he loudly cleared his throat. Lord Beckham couldn't stand the smell of stables; he wasn't himself much enamored with horses, for that matter, something that had he spoke it aloud would have met with much surprise and alarm. Few men here among the moors of north England didn't appreciate horses or the art of riding them, but the pursuit had never quite earned Lord Beckham's interest. The heady stench of hay and the low whinny of chattering equines inspired only a sidelong gaze from Marshall, who regarded the animal Lord Havenshire presented proudly with a faint but clearly disinterested smile.
"Yes, indeed, a fine breed," Lord Beckham returned absentmindedly. Its skin a deep shade of brown and its hair long and white, Lord Beckham got the feeling that these were perhaps special or rare features for a horse to have, or that they were quite prominent and agreeable on this particular horse, but he knew so little of horses that he couldn't point out the differences between a beautiful and a rather mundane example of the animal. He glanced longing towards the stable doors, sighing deeply and begging silently for James to pull the carriage away from the roadway and off to the stables to rescue him.
"When's the last time you went riding, Lord Beckham?" Lord Havenshire asked with a knowing grin, offering the animal to Marshall, who recoiled at the offer. He hadn't ridden a horse in so long he couldn't even recall the last occasion, save that it likely ended with him nearly thrown from the animal's back, as he found himself to rarely have what it took to control the wily creatures. He quite rightly feared embarrassing himself should the old man actually ask to have a ride.
"Not many opportunities for a ride at my estate, I'm afraid," Lord Beckham answered, reeling from the smell and the sight of the stabled animal that approached him willfully. "It's... rather rocky terrain, near the manor," Lord Beckham resolved an excuse as quickly as he could for his lacking equestrian skills. Lord Havenshire frowned.
"Unfortunate, that. I've always found the freedom of riding the back of one of these beauties to be one of the most liberating experiences our mortal existence has to offer us, and these last few months without a ride across my property have left me begging to feel that again," Lord Havenshire lamented. "Alas, the illness has made me too weak to control one of the animals, I'm rather ashamed to admit. The Emerys estate has quite the perfect sort of landscape for a good ride. Horses aren't quite enamored with the trees, of course, but they weave through them far easier than they would rocks or soaring mountains, or that sort of thing."
"Indeed," Lord Beckham responded idly, still vexed as he glanced towards the stable doors. A dozen horses stood arrayed along the wooden walls, each sequestered into its own quaint den, stuffed with buckets of water, bales of straw and plates of assorted vegetables and other manner of detritus for the creatures to feast upon. Lord Beckham recalled his own manor's stables, sitting empty and idle upon his land since he'd sold the last of the creatures to a home which had actual want and use of them; he himself had no such needs.
"My daughter, Nadia... this is her horse, Shadow. They grew up together, practically," Lord Havenshire laughed, his voice both joyous, proud, but momentarily heartbroken at recalling his daughter's youth. "They taught one another how to ride, and how to run, more or less. She's always been an exceptional rider, so much so that had she not been born the only daughter of a duke, I'd have told her to pursue her riding skill relentlessly," he joked. "She may well do so, regardless. She's always been stubborn about listening to the ramblings of her old father."
"She... certainly seemed willful," Lord Beckham recalled hesitantly. "But... a charming sort of willful."
"A charming sort indeed," Lord Havenshire laughed. "It's my own fault, letting her range freely across the world like a wandering little chicken pecking at seeds on a plain. I fear it's made her unmarriageable, seeing the world outside of this place. I wake up each day fearing my servants will inform me she's disappeared on Shadow's back, into the night," he sighed.
"I certainly don't think a woman doesn't deserve marriage because she can think for herself," Lord Beckham responded, earning a curious look from Lord Havenshire.
"Had she been born a man, she'd be the finest duke Emerys has ever seen," he lamented.
"And do you think that's a problem of her birth? Or a problem of how we do things here?" Lord Beckham presented the question with a tap on his chin.
"Now you're beginning to sound like her," Lord Havenshire guffawed, before a coughing fit stole his breath away. He slunk onto one of the stable keeper’s stools. "She's quite the firebrand, and I know the other gentlemen... they see no value in a woman who's been across the world. They think she's... mad, or that some ill-mannered ideas have tainted her like a disease," Lord Havenshire lamented.
"She certainly seemed... lovely, when I spoke with her," Lord Beckham hesitated to say, though he meant it.
"That," Lord Havenshire exclaimed, "that. Is precisely why I've invited you here, Marshall. You know how our world works - even if it's not how we want it to work, not how Nadia wants it to work. If you could just, perhaps, help to teach her - help to convince her, that while the idea of women as equals is noble... it's just not how it works. Coming from you—"
"Father? The servants told me you'd gone to the stables," a voice crept through the stable doors; Lord Beckham's heart froze, his eyes widened. He heard her - her pleasant but plucky voice, an
d with his eyes set on the swinging stable doors, he saw her, dressed in the manner of an equestrian, her pants tight and tall and white, clung to her sweet curves, her expression bright, her hair tied back, a jacket fit snug over her torso. Her eyes gleamed... until they fell upon the sight of Lord Beckham, a familiar face that inspired so many different, clashing emotions in her mind. She swallowed hard, her own expression mirroring the shock in Lord Beckham's.
He appreciated seeing her... even if it came at so disastrous a time.
"Nadia! You recognize this man, don't you? Lady Henrietta told me you two had quite a time sitting next to one another last night at Lord Perrywise's banquet," Lord Havenshire exclaimed in the loudest, congratulatory tone his ravaged throat could muster. "I've invited him to see the horses, and I was just exhibiting Shadow to him."
"Y... yes, I know of... of Lord Beckham," Nadia gulped, watching Marshall closely. He regarded her with his own sense of suspicion, of praise; he had no inkling of how offended she had been after their failed conversation, or even if he had any hope to make good their potential relationship. "I'm not certain what Lady Henrietta believed of our relationship, but... we're simply acquaintances, nothing more," she said, rather cuttingly.
"Y... yes, acquaintances," Lord Beckham responded, crestfallen.
"And is here to purchase a horse, then?" Nadia asked curtly. "...with the fortune he secured from beneath his sister's feet?"
"Lady Havenshire, I had hoped we could speak about—" Lord Beckham blurted, ire stoked by her comments.
"Speak about? Speak about what?" she retorted, arms crossed atop her chest.
"Nadia, you're not being courteous to our guest," Lord Havenshire rumbled. "Act like a proper lady, I know for certain I and Ms. Mulwray taught you properly."
"Guest? He's a guest, is he?" Lady Havenshire scowled. "I'm not quite so stupid as you seem to believe, father. I've guessed astutely at the purpose of his visit, and I'm quite certain it's not simply to fawn over the horses."
"That's not how I taught you to speak to your peers, Nadia," Lord Havenshire grumbled, coughing as he shifted along the uncomfortable stool.
"M'lady, I had no intentions of offending you, but I was scarcely going to simply ignore the plea of a sick man to visit his estate, whether Lady Henrietta was behind it or no," Lord Beckham protested. "I apologize for offense my situation may have caused your sensibilities, but—"
"But you knew you had offended me, yet you accepted my father's invitation, knowing full well who had had a hand in it, and what he - and Lady Henrietta - had hoped would come from such a meeting," Nadia bristled, her long equestrian boot stamping into the dirt as she punctuated each word harshly. "Taking that into account, I don't think you're quite sorry for your words or situation at all. I think you're taking full advantage of the position afforded you as a man."
"I had no intention of offending you, again," Lord Beckham growled, "but I'd be betraying myself and my estate if I so crassly refused—"
