“I thought if I took an interest in the stable, won a few races, that would be something Lord Gliddon could appreciate.”
Aaron clenched his jaw to keep the words in his head from rushing through his mouth. If Oliver had enlisted Aaron’s help, it would have been simple to teach him the right things to say and do to appear a proper horseman. But what was done was done.
“Don’t worry,” Aaron said, swallowing hard to keep the burn in his stomach from crawling up his throat. “I’ll find another rider.” Somewhere.
Oliver’s shoulders lost their tension, and he smiled, obviously content that Aaron would handle everything.
Before Aaron said something to crush his friend’s ease, he mounted Shadow and pointed the horse toward Cambridge. While he wouldn’t be spending the day leisurely strolling through the fair, he still had to make the final arrangements on his order.
Besides, there wasn’t a better place to ponder a problem than on the back of a horse. By the time he returned to Newmarket, he’d have a plan in mind, if not in place.
As the horse walked by the Heath, Aaron looked over the expanse of grass that had been his restoration. Hopefully it wouldn’t soon be the site of his humiliation as well.
Two
Though the solution didn’t materialize as Aaron rode through the countryside, a sense of desperation did. Unfortunately, the ideas of desperate men are risky. They might pay out in the end, but more often than not, they caused more problems.
Somewhere between stabling Shadow at one of the temporary liveries and meeting with the saddle maker, Aaron convinced himself that his absurd idea was one of the good ones.
What if his solution was hiding among the stalls of horse breeders and tack salesmen? What if he hired a complete unknown as a jockey? All he needed was someone of small stature with a good seat and the proper respect for horses, someone who didn’t fear the rush of wind as an animal in its prime surged at a gallop across the Heath.
Even if he lost, it would look better than putting a groom on Equinox’s back. At least then people could only question the race and not Aaron’s ability to manage and staff the stable.
The entire idea was ludicrous, though. How was he to go about testing a man’s abilities in the crowded confines of a fair? One could barely walk at a decent pace, much less ride.
With more attention on his musings than his surroundings, he didn’t realize he’d wandered into the edge of a crowd until he’d been swallowed by it. Oohs and aahs filled the air as the people pressed against the rickety fence of a traveling show.
He looked up just in time to see a horse performing moves he’d never known horses could do. Startlingly white to the point of glowing, the horse captivated Aaron as it pranced around the performance area, mane and tail flowing behind. Surely anyone who could make a horse do that could encourage one to run fast along a course.
His gaze tracked to the rider. His hopes plummeted even as his attention sharpened. Blond hair streamed down her back and across her shoulders. Her green gown, with long, wide sleeves and panels of sheer fabric floating about the skirt, shimmered in the morning sun. On the back of the horse, she appeared to be flying.
This wasn’t the solution to his problems, but he was intrigued enough to keep watching. It looked like a dance as the horse performed a series of intricate steps before running in a circle while the faerie stood on its back.
Aaron knew that excellent female riders existed—he even counted one among his small circle of acquaintances—but he’d never seen one ride like that.
A man stood to the side recounting some story that was likely meant to give meaning to the moves, but it was nothing but noise to Aaron’s ears.
Such a beautiful horse needed no additional story to be admired. The rider’s overdone gown and abundance of hair detracted from the beauty as far as Aaron was concerned. They were a distraction he narrowed his eyes to remove.
Though he wouldn’t discount the lady’s skill in being able to stay atop the horse’s back, he could see no signal from the rider to guide the horse. Likely the animal had been taught the routine by someone else and performed it so often that it would go through the motions, rider or no.
Murmurs of delight swelled through the crowd as the white horse knelt and the faerie dismounted to bestow a rose upon one of the boys crowded close to the fence. She climbed back on the horse, and the pair departed while the storyteller crossed in front of the crowd with a basket on a stick, collecting coins from the awed observers.
Aaron stepped away. There would be more shows today, perhaps even two or three. Well-trained horses and skilled riders should be rewarded, but he wanted to see the entire show before depositing his coins.
In the meantime, there were plenty of stalls in which he could have horse-related conversations and seek out someone ready to be molded into an excellent jockey, or at least an adequate one.
His hopes faded as he finished perusing the second full row of stalls without a single prospect. He’d circled back to the performance area, so he secured a position near the front but far to the right. Tales of the faerie queen must have spread, because several boys were already clustered near the center of the fence.
Though the traveling group had likely been here for days, it still drew a large crowd, and Aaron’s expectations grew. He glanced over the variety of people, stopping on a little boy edging his way into the crowd at the opposite end of the fence from Aaron.
Aaron had been that little boy staying carefully out of everyone’s way. Before his father had swooped in with a sense of responsibility and sent Aaron off to school, there’d been no fancy clothes or quality horseflesh. Aaron’s admiration for the animals had been fed by traveling shows such as this one.
They’d been his escape.
The performers didn’t care if he’d ruined his mother’s life or his father considered him the embodiment of sin’s consequences. They didn’t call him names or pretend he didn’t exist. They gave him the same show they gave everyone else.
Aaron took note of the boy’s height and what he was wearing so he could find him after the show and create some sort of errand that would earn the boy a coin.
The show began, and Aaron frowned. It was obvious why the faerie queen came out last, despite the uninspiring story supposedly being all about her. Other riders, dressed as wood nymphs and sitting atop brown horses, did little more than avoid falling, confirming his suspicions that the horse trainer should be receiving the applause. To the untrained eye, the display was fabulous, but even though Aaron hadn’t a clue how to make a horse walk with his forelegs high and stiff, he knew what it looked like to give a horse a command.
A few acrobats were mingled into the show, but soon the faerie queen made her entrance, eventually reaching the point where he’d begun watching the first time.
The horse paused for the others to clear the area, then, instead of moving forward, reared up until it was standing tall on its back legs. The crowd gasped and cheered while Aaron’s gaze flew to the rider’s face. A grim frown flashed across her mouth and then the horse was back on the ground. Moments later, the routine continued as if nothing had happened.
Obviously, the faerie’s skills far surpassed those of the other performers. Still, she had to be relying on the horse’s knowledge of the routine, considering she often knelt upon the horse’s back, with one leg draping down the animal’s side.