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Secret of the Stallion

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by Bonnie Bryant




  WHAT IS THE SECRET?

  July 18

  Dear Diary,

  This trip to London is finally beginning to show some hope. I put up with weak tea, stale cakes, and a couple of tedious old fogeys yesterday afternoon and my reward was a most interesting story. It seems the man who built the castle had a treasure. Something about the Civil War, though I can’t imagine why an English duke cared about freeing slaves in America. Still, the man apparently knew jewels and precious metals. He also had a thing about horses. I could love someone like that. Anyway, it seems that nobody’s ever found his treasure—until now, that is. I don’t have time for all the details of what Mrs. Whatsername told me, but I know enough to know where to look. Won’t that be a surprise to those goody-goodies, Lisa, Carole, and Stevie. I can’t wait to see their faces when I find the treasure!

  Veronica

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  THE SECRET OF THE STALLION

  A Bantam Skylark Book / June 1995

  Skylark Books is a registered trademark of Bantam Books,

  a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

  Registered in U. S. Patent and Trademark Office and elsewhere.

  “The Saddle Club” is a registered trademark of Bonnie Bryant Hiller.

  The Saddle Club design / logo, which consists of

  a riding crop and a riding hat, is a

  trademark of Bantam Books.

  “USPC” and “Pony Club” are registered trademarks of

  the United States Pony Clubs, Inc., at The Kentucky

  Horse Park, 4071 Iron Works Pike, Lexington, KY 40511-8462.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 1995 by Bonnie Bryant Hiller.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

  in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,

  including photocopying, recording, or by any information

  storage and retrieval system, without permission in

  writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-82519-3

  Published simultaneously in the United States and Canada

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U. S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.1

  I would like to express my special thanks to Dorothy Wood for her help and inspiration for this story. Your book on The King’s War is finally on its way back to you!

  BBH

  For Louisa

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books You Will Enjoy

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  “WELCOME ABOARD FLIGHT Seven to London’s Heathrow Airport.”

  “Can you believe that?” Stevie Lake asked, leaning over to her two best friends, Lisa Atwood and Carole Hanson. The three of them were seated next to one another on an airplane headed for London, England.

  “I never thought this day would come!” Carole said.

  “Me neither,” agreed Lisa.

  “Perhaps we’ll have time for a spot of tea with the queen,” Stevie said.

  “Not likely,” Carole said. “We’re going to be much too busy worrying about how well we ride. We’re not just here for fun, you know.”

  “Oh, but riding is fun,” said Lisa. “And how could there be a better combination than being with my best friends, on an exciting trip, where we get to ride horses?”

  “… sure that your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright and locked position prior to …”

  A face appeared above the seat in front of Lisa’s. “Are you girls all buckled in?”

  “Yes, Max,” Stevie said. Max was Max Regnery, their riding instructor and one of their chaperons for the trip.

  “Max, sit down yourself. Girls who can polish saddles as well as they can will certainly be able to manage to buckle a seat belt!”

  That was Max’s mother, the other half of the chaperon team. She was universally referred to as Mrs. Reg. Max and Mrs. Reg owned Pine Hollow Stables, where the girls rode. Mrs. Reg was the stable manager and occasional adviser to the girls.

  The three girls were very different from one another. Carole was the most serious rider of the three. She’d been riding ever since she was a very little girl, starting with lessons on the Marine Corps bases where she’d lived all her life. Riding had always been the constant in Carole’s life. When she was a child, her family had moved a lot, from base to base, but wherever she went, there were always horses. Now her father was a senior officer, a colonel, and was not likely to be moved any more before he retired from the Corps. Since her mother’s death from cancer a few years earlier, Carole and her dad had lived alone in their house in the town of Willow Creek, not far from Quantico, where he worked.

  Carole now had her own horse, Starlight, and she knew that no matter what else happened to her, horses would always be a major part of her life. When she grew up she would work with horses. Maybe she’d be a vet, maybe a trainer, maybe a championship rider, maybe a breeder. Maybe all of them. Horses were the one thing Carole never forgot. She might forget her own breakfast, but she’d never forget to feed Starlight. She might lose her own homework, but she’d never misplace Starlight’s health records. She might forget to pack her bathrobe for a trip, but she’d never leave Starlight’s blanket behind.

  Carole wanted to learn everything there was to know about horses. She studied every book she had and she worked hard on all of her lessons at Horse Wise, the Pony Club at Pine Hollow. Whenever her friends weren’t certain of something about horses, they knew they could ask Carole. Carole loved to share information, though sometimes her friends thought perhaps she shared too much. Stevie sometimes said that Carole gave twenty-five-cent answers to nickel questions.

  Stevie contrasted sharply to Carole’s seriousness. She loved horses just as much, but Stevie was much better known for her practical joking than she was for being serious. Often her practical jokes got her into trouble. Sometimes they got her friends into trouble, too. The good news was that she was almost as good at getting out of trouble as she was at getting into it. Carole and Lisa usually groaned whenever Stevie came up with one of her wild schemes, but, they had to admit, Stev
ie’s schemes sometimes got them into more fun than trouble. And, sometimes they even worked.

  Stevie’s parents were both lawyers. She had three brothers—one older, one younger, one twin. She was always scrapping with them and that got her into the worst trouble because the boys never hesitated to scrap back.

  In spite of Stevie’s obstreperous, stubborn nature, she was a very good rider. She was almost as good as Carole and, in some forms, even better. Ironically, her strongest skills lay in dressage, the most intricate form of riding there was, requiring great concentration. What Stevie enjoyed about dressage exercises and tests was that it was almost like a puzzle to her—a real challenge beyond the normal demands of riding. Dressage was the ultimate test of a horse’s manners. The slightest shift in pressure or weight by the rider should result in a proper response from the horse. The well-trained horse and rider could do amazing things in dressage. Stevie liked doing amazing things. Stevie just recently got her own horse, an Arab-Saddlebred mix named Belle. She loved working with Belle on her training. “Work” wasn’t the right word actually. Anything to do with horses was more like fun than work.

  It was a good thing for Stevie that she was disciplined at riding because she was often just one step ahead of detention at school. She was smart as could be, but she could be careless about school responsibilities and spent more time than the average student trying to explain things to Miss Fenton, the founder and director of Fenton Hall, the private school Stevie attended.

  Lisa, on the other hand, was a straight-A student at Willow Creek Junior High School, where she and Carole went. She always did excellent work at school. She never forgot an assignment or waited until it was too late to complete a project. Stevie couldn’t understand that part of Lisa at all. What she could understand was Lisa’s love of horses.

  Lisa had started riding only recently. But as with anything she tried, she was a good student and a fast learner. Max had often remarked that he’d never seen anyone learn so quickly. She was rightfully proud of that.

  Lisa was logical and methodical. Her mother had seen to it that she’d developed many skills in her thirteen years. She’d had dance classes (ballet, tap, and ballroom), music lessons, painting lessons, tennis lessons, sewing classes, and drama classes. Most of those had stopped, however, when Lisa discovered horses. Her mother had thought that every proper young lady should know something about horses. Lisa disagreed there. After one lesson, she didn’t want to know something about horses. She wanted to know everything about horses.

  That was how she’d met up with Stevie and Carole. And that was when the three of them, different as they were, discovered that they had one thing in common that was much more important than everything about them that was different: They were horse-crazy. So they’d started The Saddle Club. It only had two rules. Members had to be horse-crazy and they had to be willing to help one another.

  The girls had riding classes on Tuesdays and Horse Wise Pony Club meetings on Saturdays. They usually found excuses to get to Pine Hollow other days as well. Their hard work and focus on horses and riding had earned them the respect of Max Regnery.

  That, in turn, had earned them the right to be on the airplane that had now taken off and was flying over the Atlantic Ocean to London. They were going to England as part of an international Pony Club exchange program. Sometime earlier the program had brought four dashing and fun Italian boys to Willow Creek, Virginia. Now The Saddle Club was going to perform in a mounted games demonstration of Pony Clubbers at a three-day event in England.

  “How long are we staying in London?” Carole asked.

  “Three days,” said Lisa. “That should give us a chance to see a few things, though not nearly as many as my parents dragged me to when we were there for two weeks last summer.” She consulted the itinerary Mrs. Reg’s travel agent had prepared for everyone. Stevie had had one, but couldn’t find it in her backpack. Carole had left hers at home. “Then we take a chartered bus to Cummington Castle, where the three-day event takes place.”

  “I can’t wait for the three-day event,” said Carole. “A full day of dressage, followed by one of endurance cross-country riding, and finishing up with stadium jumping. Did you know that three-day events were originally devised to test a military horse’s fitness at charging in battle? The difficulty of the program would test any horse’s fitness, actually, but it gave the officers a chance to show off their horses’ courage and endurance as well. The three-day event was originally called a Military. Did you know that?”

  “I do now,” said Lisa. She was always interested in what Carole had to share, but if she and Stevie didn’t stop her, Carole would get into a lengthy history of the event that might not stop until they touched down at Heathrow!

  Stevie tugged on Max’s seat back to get his attention. “Is it true that Nigel is going to be there?” she asked.

  “That’s what Dorothy said,” Max told her through the space between the seats. Dorothy was a former student of Max’s, now retired from showing because of a riding accident. She was married to Nigel Hawthorne, a member of the British Equestrian Team. It seemed quite logical that he would be competing in a prestigious event like Cummington. “Didn’t I tell you about the horse he’ll be riding?”

  No, he hadn’t, and the girls told him so.

  “He’s riding a stallion by the name of Pound Sterling. He’s from Yawelkesleigh Farms.”

  “Yaw-what?” asked Stevie.

  “I don’t know how to pronounce it—just how to spell it, and I’m not so sure of that,” said Max. “Anyway, Dorothy was excited about the horse. Said Nigel would bring out the best in the animal.”

  Of that, there was no doubt. Nigel was a wonderful rider, and the girls were really excited about having the chance to cheer for him.

  “I’m going to sleep now and I suggest you do the same,” Max said. He reached up and switched off his light. “We’ll be in London before you know it, and we’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

  The girls didn’t switch off their lights and they had no intention of going to sleep. There was much too much to talk about.

  “Are you sure Tessa is going to be there?” Carole asked Lisa.

  Lisa reached into her purse again and pulled out the letter she’d received from Lady Theresa, better known to her as Tessa. Lisa had met Tessa when she’d been in England with her parents. She was an actual, true titled English lady and a distant cousin to the queen, but as far as Lisa was concerned, the most important thing about Tessa was that she was just a really nice girl about Lisa’s own age.

  Lisa opened the letter. “Yup, here it is. She writes, ‘I can’t wait to see you. I have some wonderful fun planned for us all. Do save a day for me. Will you and your friends be able to come riding at our place?’ ”

  “You did say yes, didn’t you?” Stevie asked.

  “You think I’m crazy? Of course I said yes!”

  “Did anyone hear from the Italian boys?” Carole asked.

  “Not me,” said Lisa.

  “Max did,” Stevie told her friends. “He heard from their coach anyway. They’ll be there—all four of them. Remember how much fun we had when Enrico, Marco, Gian, and Andre were at Pine Hollow?”

  Carole turned to Lisa. “And you saw Enrico when you were in Italy with your parents, didn’t you?”

  “I sure did. We stayed with him, in their house.”

  “Didn’t you say it was more like a castle?” Stevie asked.

  “I guess it was,” Lisa agreed. “It seemed to me that it was so big that the East Wing had a West Wing.”

  “I never would have figured him for a zillionaire,” said Stevie. “He’s so normal.”

  “Just being rich doesn’t make someone a snob,” Lisa said.

  “Speaking of that, I wonder how Veronica is doing,” said Stevie. She was referring to Veronica diAngelo, another rider at Pine Hollow and the fourth member of their relay team. She was on the same plane they were on. She was just in another section.

/>   July 15

  Dear Diary,

  Thank goodness for first class!

  When Max and Mrs. Reg, Stevie, Lisa, and Carole were getting into their seats back in coach, I saw how jammed they were. I also got a whiff of the food they were going to have to eat! At least my parents had the good sense to put me in the front of the plane. And Daddy promised he’d ordered a car service to take me to the hotel. I’ll have my cases unpacked by the time the others get off the bus, and I’ll be sound asleep before they get checked in.

  I’ve finished the caviar and other hors d’oeuvres. While the attendant is grilling my steak, I thought I’d take a minute to write in my journal. I’ll be going to sleep right after dinner. These wide seats are so comfortable!

  And they’d better be to make up for what Daddy asked me to do. He says I have to call these people, the Chumleys. Can you believe the name? Anyway, it seems like they are some kind of big important client of Daddy’s bank.

  Well, if it’s so important to Daddy, I guess I can do it. I just hope I don’t have to spend any time with them or anything. There are too many wonderful stores to visit in London for me to want to waste any time with some old fuddy-duddies.

  Here comes the steak! Good night—

  Veronica

  “IF SHE SAYS one more word about how good her steak was, I think I’m going to throttle her,” Stevie grumbled to Lisa. They were all standing in a line at Heathrow.

  “Have you seen my passport?” Carole asked Lisa.

  “Who has the luggage claims?” Max asked.

  “Did you girls sleep at all?” asked Mrs. Reg.

  “Who cares? It’s in your left hand. Mrs. Reg has them. And no,” Lisa said, addressing everybody’s concerns at once. It was eight o’clock in the morning and her body thought it was the middle of the night, but Lisa could still be organized and everybody knew they could count on her. Even Veronica followed her as the group stood waiting to have their passports stamped.

  “What comes next?” Stevie asked.

  “Luggage claim,” Lisa said authoritatively.

 

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