"But how can these clothes be for me? I was never fitted for them, so how can they possibly fit?" Elysia asked worriedly, taking off the borrowed slippers Dany had somehow managed to secure for her. Her old clogs shocked Dany to the core of her being when she'd seen Elysia wearing them in the salon. Elysia slipped her narrow foot into a jade green leather slipper which fit perfectly. Lucy began to hang the dresses up in the closet. Her other two dresses resting in a neglected and crumpled heap on the floor, were ousted from the closet by Lucy with a contemptuous sniff of her pert little nose.
"Everything will fit just perfectly," Dany commented as she watched Elysia admire the green slipper, "because I took your measurements from one of your old gowns and your shoes."
"Dany–you did this? You got all of these things for me?" Elysia ran to the little woman and impulsively hugged her, crushing the powder-blue, velvet robe Dany was shaking out, between them.
"Well now, I only got your measurements for them. Twas your husband, Lord Alex, who ordered them for you–and very explicit he was in what he wanted from London. Bright colors, he says, in greens and golds. Get her everything she needs for a complete wardrobe.' Oh, yes, Lord Alex knew what he wanted. And only the best for his bride." Dany was smiling proudly up in Elysia's astonished face, beaming like a cherubic magician pleased with his tricks of magic.
"Lord Trevegne ordered these for me from London!" Elysia exclaimed, dropping a filmy white nightdress as if it burned her fingers. He had gotten all of these clothes for her, and in so short a space of time! He must have had every seamstress in London working until midnight to complete her wardrobe–and how expensive it must have been, Elysia thought, as she looked at all of the dresses strewn across the room. Morning dresses, afternoon dresses, walking dresses, with shoes and bonnets to match each, with cloaks and robes, and the finest undergarments and lawn nightdresses. Dany opened another trunk to reveal, in glorious colors, a ball gown with a flounce of turquoise satin, and a seagreen gown sprinkled liberally with diamante stars. She could see the skirts of other gowns peeking out from behind, in a kaleidoscope of colors and fabrics.
Elysia looked down at all the beautiful dresses Spread over the bed, unable to decide, now that she had a choice, what to wear. Suddenly, she spied a deep-green, velvet dress. Elysia reached for it quickly, holding it up against herself in excitement.
"Now, what will you wear, Lady Elysia?" Dany asked, selecting a lovely violet, flowered, muslin morning dress with long narrow sleeves and rows of ruffles at the hem. "Tis a lovely dress, here."
"No. I’ll wear this," Elysia said positively, making up her mind as she held out the riding outfit. "I'm going riding!”
"Lady Elysia!” Dany looked momentarily taken aback. "Ye can't go out riding on one of Lord Alex's horses. He doesn't allow anyone but Peter, or some of his closest friends, to ride them," she said, scandalized by the thought.
"I can ride as well, if not better than any man, and I am Lady' Trevegne. I have the right," Elysia said stubbornly, thankful for the first time that she was Lady Trevegne, and could demand her pleasure for a change. "What can Lord Trevegne possibly do to me anyway? I am his wife, aren't I?" she demanded arrogantly, seeking confirmation from the two silent women who stood staring at her in awe, a hint of concern in their faces.
"Help me into it, Dany, Elysia requested, starting to unbutton her dress. "Please," she added entreatingly, a dimple peeping out of the comer of her mouth.
"Very well, Lady Elysia. I can't deny ye when ye look at me like that. Ye'd charm the devil himself–and maybe ye be at it now," she added portentously, helping Elysia into the superbly-cut riding dress which fit her snugly across the shoulder. Elysia gave a squeal of delight when Dany unearthed a pair of riding boots from the depths of one of the trunks. "Do you think they'll fit?" she asked, as she fell back onto the bed in-an undignified position. She struggled into them, exclaiming triumphantly as she paraded across the room, an impish smile on her face. "Perfect!”
"And here's ye hat." A smile tugged at the comer of Dany's mouth as she placed the ridiculous little bit of hat with its lavender-plumed feather, saucily over one of Elysia's arched brows. "There ye are. Ye be all set, but for what, I'd rather not know." Dany declated in resignation, for she felt Elysia was bound for disaster.
Elysia stared at herself in the large dressing table mirror, looking critically at her reflection, but unable to find anything at fault in the tall, slender figure dressed in dark green velvet staring back at her. The small beaver hat and feather and her half-boots laced with green complimented the outfit. She hardly recognized herself out of her rags. Elysia couldn't suppress a satisfied smile curving her lips as she turned to see the admiration of Dany and Lucy, Standing amidst the colorful dresses that were scattered about the room like a field of spring flowers.
"I'm off," she declared, giving a giggle as she tripped over the edge of one of the trunks reaching for a pair of gloves. Elysia's tinkling laugh echoed in the room after she had left and Lucy and Dany stood staring at each other in nervousness at their young mistress's precipitous actions–neither of them voicing their fears.
Elysia hurried down the grand staircase, breezily pushing through the large double doors at the entrance much to the consternation of Browne, who was hobbling across the hall with a tray of freshlyshined and sparkling crystal. Elysia gave him a cheery hello as she disappeared, her bobbing lavender plume the last thing Browne saw of her as he stood shaking his white head.
She took a deep breath of the tangy salt breeze blowing off the ocean. Elysia could still see the pounding waves as she walked toward the stables, and drawing nearer she could hear the mufHed whinnies of the horses beyond the broad stable doors. She quickened her pace in anticipation.
Elysia entered, and stood silently watching the bustling activity of the busy stableboys and grooms, noticing how spotless a stable it was, even with many stalls. Since it was such a big stable, she should surely be able to find one horse that Lord Trevegne would not object to her riding. She was glancing about, hoping to spot the head groom, when she saw a short, wiry figure standing squarely in the middle of an empty stall. He was issuing orders to several stable boys standing attentively by. Elysia walked purposefully toward the man, her chin set firmly forward.
"Excuse me, but I should like a mount," she said in an arrogant voice, deciding a show of authority would be her best attitude to adopt-although she was shaking within. The short man turned around In surprise- at the sound of a feminine voice behind him.
Elysia stepped back In shock, her mouth soundlessly opening several times before she finally, almost inaudibly uttered, "Jims!”
The grizzle-haired man rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes, and stared up at the green-clad figure in disbelief. "Miss Elysia?"
"Oh, Jims, is it really you?" Elysia asked, her eyes hanging onto his small figure as if afraid he was a mirage.
"Miss Elysia. Tis good to see ye," he spoke in a choked voice, his eyes suspiciously bright. "I'd thought never to lay eyes on ye again."
Elysia smiled tremulously. "What are you doing here, Jims?"
"Why, I work here, Miss Elysia. I'm the head groom, and a finer stable yell not find in all of England," he said proudly.
"With you running it, that would indeed be doubtful," Elysia said, looking about her with admiration.
"Well, it's His Lordship that's got the eye for bloodlines. Never seen a finer eye for stock–except maybe for yer Papa, Miss Elysia," he added reverently, still loyal to his first employer and friend "But what are ye doing here? His Lordship be just recently married, and a surprise to us all it was, us thinkin' him a bachelor fer life. Ye be a'visitin' here then?"
"No, Jims, I live here now–you see, I am the new Lady Trevegne."
Jims looked stunned by Elysia's news. "Ye be married to His Lordship, Miss Elysia?" A frown appeared on his weathered brow. He knew His Lordship's reputation, and was pretty sure that this marriage
would not have met with approval from Miss Elysia's parents–even though he was of the opinion that His Lordship was on the square, and played the game fair.
"Yes, Jims, I am," Elysia answered, surprised that Jims did not seem overly concerned at finding her married to the Marquis.
"Well, I be glad ye’ve left that woman's house, anyway," he said, spitting as he shifted the wad of tobacco he was chewing to the other side of his mouth. "No disrespect meant, Miss Elysia, but I never did like the looks of her. She treat ye all right, didn't she?" Jims asked, looking fierce at the thought of anyone mistreating his Miss Elysia.
"It's all over now, Jims, and I shall never see her again," Elysia answered, reluctant to explain more of what she had lived through.
"I can't believe it, that I be workin' fer ye agin. It be fate that ye be here now, Miss Elysia." He cast a glance over at the boys busily scrubbing down the stall, and then added hesitantly, "His Lordship ain't exactly like your father, Miss Elysia, but I'll tell' ye that he be a good man deep down inside. Treats his horses good; never takes the whip to them. Anyone who loves horses can't be all bad," he said, giving a somewhat qualified approval to her marriage. "He be a strange man at times, but he be honest."
Elysia silently agreed with him. She was indeed married to a strange man, but whether it was fate–or just bad luck–that had caused it, she didn't know. It was too late now to change anything, and she was beginning to feel the truth of the fact, she was Lady Elysia Trevegne, the wife of Lord Trevegne, and never again would she be plain Elysia Demarice. There was no escaping that fact–and she would have to live with it.
"So, ye be wantin' to ride, eh, Miss Elysia?" Jims said happily, pleased to have his favorite protégée back under his care again. “Aye, I can see th' sparkle in yer eye," he said chuckling.
"If you only knew how long I’ve waited and longed to ride once again, Jims. It's like a fever with me," she said following him along the row of stalls.
“So, ye've not had a good ride in a long while? No decent mounts for ye to ride, eh?" Jims commented with understanding, knowing no other stable could meet his standards of horseflesh–nor Miss Elysia's.
Elysia laughed. “Finding a decent mount was the least of my troubles, Jims. In fact, there were no saddle horses. Only a couple of old nags to pull an out-of-date carriage."
"You've not ridden at alI!" Jims croaked in astonish-ment, “Lord help that woman—not to be lettin' ye ride. Aye, she be a mean 'un, all right," he grumbled, muttering curses on Agatha's head.
Elysia smiled. If he only knew half of what Agatha had done to her . . .
"Now, did the Marquis say ye was to have any particular horse?" he asked, eyeing her carefully.
"No, the truth is–I haven't asked His Lordship's permission to ride," Elysia told Jims truthfully.
"Ye haven't, eh?" he said, rubbing his chin. "Well, I don't likely know if I should let ye then, Miss, er, Lady Elysia. He be a real cool 'un about who's to ride his bloods."
"Jims!” Elysia said reproachfully. "You, above all people, know that I can ride better than any man. Between you and Father, I've had the best teachers in the country," she added matter-of-factly.
"Aye, that you have," Jims agreed with pride, well aware of her expertise, for which he had partially been responsible.
"I want to ride now, Jims. I just can't wait, and besides Lord Trevegne is out somewhere on the estate. By the time he returns it might be noontime, or later. Oh, please, Jims," she spoke beseechingly. "I'll even ride an old mare if that is all that is available," Elysia added desperately–and a trifle too innocently.
Jims pulled himself up to his full five feet, looking affronted. "Now, Miss–er, Lady Elysia," he corrected, unable to adjust to her new title, "ye knows better than to think that I would ever mount ye on anything but the very best."
"I know you would not like to. . . but if that is all that is available–then you know I would prefer that to causing you any trouble, Jims," Elysia answered placatingly.
"Let's see what we can find for ye," he said, inspecting several satin-coated horses, which Elysia would have loved to have ridden, without stopping. Her husband certainly did know how to pick fine horseflesh, she had to admit, as they passed champion- after champion-caliber horse. Surely Jims could find something for her to mount, she thought worriedly as they came to the last stall–one set apart from the others.
"Well, I don't know if ye'll be likin' this 'un, but ye can give it a try if ye like," Jims told her with a doubtful look on his face.
Elysia looked into the stall, curious as to what Jims finally had selected for her, and gave an indrawn breath as she saw the sleek, muscular, white flanks.
"Ariel!" Elysia cried, opening the gate and rushing in as the big horse turned at the sound of her voice. Remembering her, he neighed softly, putting his head against her neck and snorting hotly. .
"Oh, Ariel, Ariel," she murmured as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She rubbed his velvety nose and hugged his muscular neck with outstretched arms.
"Well, I see ye've not forgotten each other," Jims finally broke in, his voice muffled by emotion.
Elysia released her hold on Ariel, and turned to look at the little man, a warmth of undying gratitude in her green eyes. She impulsively hugged him, planting a kiss on his leathery cheek, unable to express her feelings in words. Ariel nudged her back, neighing for her attention again, and she turned back to him, murmuring softly into his cocked ear.
"Aye, the two of ye belong together, and no one else would he allow on his back, not even His Lordship, who has a way with horses that I've seldom seen. But ol’ Ariel wouldn't let him on–for two years now. Even so, the Marquis wouldn't have him destroyed, or sold–said he was too beautiful an animal to send out of this world, even if he was apparently a one-master horse. And seein' how I knows him, and could care for him, he lets the beastie have his way. We been breedin' him. Have a couple of nice young 'uns about the place now, and His Lordship be real proud of them."
"I can't believe it, Jims," Elysia tearfully managed to say, "that I should see both of you again, when I had come to believe that the past was indeed dead, and inhabited by mere ghosts of the people and things that I had loved." Elysia sighed deeply. "If you only knew how many times I thought of you, and Ariel; wondering what had happened to you, and if Ariel's new owner would be kind to him. And now here. he is–my Ariel. It just seems too utterly fantastic to believe."
"Not so fantastic–after all, the Marquis has the best stables in England, so it's not strange that he'd want Ariel–seein.' how he's such a fine horse," Jims explained. "But I have to admit I’d been a might worried that, day we left fer London, Oh, we got down easily enough, but t'was the auction that had me feelin' between hawk and buzzard. Didn't care to part with him that I didn't, what with all them young bucks too eager to use the whip eyeing him over, and seem' how he wasn't likely to let any of 'em, on his back. But then His Lordship shows up, and buys him right off. He'd watched me working with Ariel before the auction and liked my style, so before I knows it, I be workin' fer him, and takin' Ariel down to his estate' fer him. I’d told him I couldn't get no references, seein' how my last employer had died, but he says all he needed to know was what he'd seen me do with the horse."
"So you and Ariel have been here–safe, all of this time, I'm so relieved." Elysia turned back to the big horse and planted a kiss on his nose. "Does Lord Trevegne know that Ariel is my horse–was my horse?" Elysia! asked Jims.
"Well now, when Ariel wouldn't let him ride him, he did ask who had owned him before, but when I said it was a woman–well, he smiled crookedly and sorta sneered like, and said, ‘Then it doesn't surprise me that he's so difficult! Although he was a bit surprised to think that a woman could handle such a big stallion. Remember he said it must have been some fierce Amazon. Whatever that be. And then he didn't ask any more questions."
"An Amazon, did he say?" Elysia demanded, feeling oddly
put out. She shrugged away the feeling–what did she care what he thought of her. -Shall we go for a romp, Ariel? I'll bet you've longed for one as much as I have in my exile. All right, Jims?" Elysia looked for permission.
"Aye, Miss Elysia, we'll get him saddled up,"
They stopped at a closed stall and opening it, Jims showed Elysia a new-born foal, its coat ruffled and damp as it wobbled on unsteady legs. Ariel snorted behind Elysia's shoulder, and the mare standing protectively by her new-born foal neighed softly in answer. Elysia looked at the little foal with new interest.
"You'll have to be using a firm hand on Ariel, what with him strutting about playing the proud sire," Jims chuckled
"So this is one of Ariel's," Elysia breathed softly, having fallen in love immediately with the precariously-balanced foal.
Elysia felt mixed emotions as they led the frisky Ariel out into the stable yard. Outwardly, they were the same–but time had changed them. Ariel and she did not belong to each other as they had before. They'd been carefree and one as they'd raced across the fields, but now Ariel had a mate–and she, Elysia, belonged to the Marquis.
Jims saddled him up while the stableboys and grooms stood about, gawking at the sight of the big, white stallion that no one could go near, nuzzling gently the face of the beautiful lady in green.
Jims helped Elysia mount, and cautioned her, "Go easy, Miss Elysia. Ye've both got plenty 'o time to catch up and no hurry to do it in, so don't try to race the wind."
Elysia waved as she and Ariel cantered sedately out of the yard, not fooling Jims, who knew they'd be flying as soon as they cleared the yard.
Elysia headed eastward, racing down the road which connected Westerly with the village of St.Fleur and the major road further inland. She halted on a rise, trying to decide which way, to ride, and looked back at the huge H-shaped house, the Great Hall forming the bar of the H. Westerly seemed to loom above the sea, as it sat on a promontory of rocks. The Marquis' flag waved in the breeze, pro- claiming his residence–the crimson, black and gold crest brightening the sky.
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