‘Why the palomino?’
Senga shrugged. ‘He jumps well.’
Inside one of the stables Briony could still hear their voices.
‘It wouldn’t be because you know you look well on a golden horse, would it?’ He sounded amused, almost indulgent.
What would Senga reply to this? Briony wondered. By slightly raising her head she could see over the half door. The temptation to steal a peep was irresistible.
Senga’s mouth, that was just a little too wide for beauty, curved into a smile that tilted those exotic, slightly Oriental eyes.
Yes, Senga was definitely very attractive, Briony thought grudgingly, and she was well aware of the effect that generous mouth could have on a man.
‘But of course,’ she replied airily, as she slid behind the wheel. ‘And what’s more, I’ll probably turn up in eighteenth-century riding clothes—all flowing velvet skirts and natty tricorn hat with feathers sweeping on to my velvet collar. I imagine I’ll look quite devastating and give Johnny and Andy a thrill.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Blane told her. ‘They’re troublesome enough as it is, and I am particularly susceptible.’
Briony could hear Senga’s laughter and saw how, as the car drove off, Blane stood looking after it for a moment or two. What was his expression? she wondered, but his head was turned away from her and it struck her that she would never know.
A moment later and he had crossed the yard with a few strides, and as she met the full impact of those startlingly blue eyes she knew she was in for a stormy session. ‘Well, and what have you to say for yourself?’ he demanded.
‘Say? About—about what?’ She despised herself for the quiver in her voice.
‘About this mishap to Sandra, of course,’ he replied brusquely. ‘It wouldn’t have happened if you had used your own judgment and kept control of this situation. You’re not here to take your instructions from a child like Sandra. You can’t teach children properly if you don’t let them know who’s boss. If you’re going to be all soft and sloppy you’re not going to be much use here when you have a number of children to control at once.’
Briony bit her lip. This was totally unfair. Quickly she turned her head away, fearing he would see the tears that had sprung to her eyes.
But nothing escaped those penetrating eyes of his. ‘Now don’t dissolve into floods of tears the first time you’re spoken to in a straightforward manner. I speak out straight from the shoulder. That’s my way and I’ve no intention of altering it. If you consider me rude, then I’m rude, and you can put up with it or leave. Take your choice!’
It flashed through Briony’s mind that being spoken to in this way would, at one time, have reduced her to the tears he so much despised. But now they aroused all her fighting spirit. Steel had entered her spirit at that moment when Jeremy had flung her off so contemptuously.
She squared her shoulders, swung around and faced him, her voice resolute and clear. ‘You may be sure there’ll be no floods of tears. Anything you care to dish out, I shall be able to take—yes, and more!’
But she did not dare to say anything more. She flung down the pitchfork she had been using and marched out of the stable.
Lunchtime came and she found that this meal was taken in the big kitchen of the house—a kitchen she hardly recognised. It was completely different from the days when Hettie had presided there. Now the flowerpots on the windowsills had disappeared, and the gaily patterned curtains. The room was strictly functional with plenty of clear space and white enamelled cupboards and a big plastic-topped table with a sturdy work-surface.
Blane lunched with them. He sat at the top of the table, contributing hardly anything to the conversation, as though in an abstracted mood. But she had the feeling that the atmosphere would have been less restrained without his presence.
The meal was served by his housekeeper, Mrs. McPhee. She went about her duties silently and gave the impression of being a woman who would hate to indulge in idle gossip.
The boys’ subdued conversation formed a background to Briony’s thoughts as she reviewed the disastrous ending to Sandra’s lesson. Perhaps a donkey would be the answer to the child’s problems, she thought with growing enthusiasm. Then, by easy stages, she could be induced to ride a pony with confidence. But how to get a donkey for the child? Under her lowered lashes she studied Blane Lennox covertly. He showed no signs of being in a receptive mood should she approach him about investing in a donkey. He would hardly sympathise with Sandra’s dilemma, or understand it.
During the afternoon she was kept busy, but when at last everything was shipshape she decided to take the bull by the horns.
Instead of returning to Amulree Cottage immediately, she paused to run a comb through her hair and to apply a touch of lipstick. Somehow she felt that it was important that she should present a tidy appearance if she was to hope for any success when she explained to him how necessary it was that Sandra should be treated like a special case, and how her aversion to riding could be overcome by a sympathetic and tactful approach.
The boys had disappeared, their day’s labours over. Blane had disappeared into the house. Now Birchfields had a deserted and lonely look and as she approached the house her enthusiasm began to wane, and trepidation set in. But, squaring her shoulders, she marched up to the door.
Mrs. McPhee showed her into a room which she called ‘the study’—a room which was changed beyond recognition from the days when Hettie had been mistress at Birchfields! Then the small low-ceilinged room had been considered her own special sitting-room. Now there was no sign of the embroidered cushions and the cretonne loose covers on the sagging old furniture.
Instead there was a totally masculine atmosphere. The walls were panelled in wood which had a rich dark red glow. Two sides of the room were lined with bookshelves and topped by ranks of silver trophies. The floor was no longer covered by Hettie’s patterned carpet. Instead gleamed dark polished wood on which lay sheepskin rugs.
As Mrs. McPhee showed Briony in Blane was seated at a broad table engrossed in a pile of forms. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ he remarked. He went to a pipe-rack, gesturing as he did so towards one of the buttoned leather armchairs which stood before the flaming wood fire. ‘And what can I do for you?’
Briony gulped and felt her courage oozing away as he filled his pipe and took the chair opposite her. ‘It’s about Sandra,’ she began.
‘Do you mind?’ he indicated his filled pipe. ‘I think I’ve heard just about enough of that child for the day,’ he frowned as he lit up. ‘Frankly, I’ve given her up as a bad job. In fact she’s becoming an infernal nuisance.’
‘That’s just what I want to speak to you about!’ She leaned forward eagerly. ‘She was telling me today that she’s begun to ride only lately. She’s terrified of horses, it seems, yet her father insists that she learn to ride. She’s never really had a chance to build up confidence, and easily loses courage.’
‘Just as I thought! She’s a cowardly little thing in spite of all her bragging and showing off.’
‘Oh no, she’s not cowardly,’ she interrupted impulsively. ‘Sandra has lots of grit. But she didn’t begin learning when she was tiny. I’ve been thinking that if she could begin again—on a donkey this time—as I did myself, then she would gain confidence.’
He locked at her in astonishment. ‘My dear girl, what are you talking about? Why, only a few days ago she was asking me when she could learn to jump.’
‘That’s because she wants to please her father—although she’s scared stiff most of the time.’
Blane sighed and looked at her in exasperation. ‘And what is all this leading up to?’
‘Just what I said! Sandra needs to begin again—perhaps on a donkey. I’m sure she would come on wonderfully.’
‘And you, of course, would be the wonder worker! In no time at all Sandra would be jumping in the Olympics, and you’d get all the credit!’
Briony clenched her fists tightly. How insufferab
le the man was! she thought indignantly. But at the same time she could feel herself redden. Had she really been hoping that if she made a success of teaching Sandra she would be able to establish herself in his good books?
Then came the familiar wave of exasperation that she always seemed to feel in his presence. How she longed to march out of Birchfields, and out of his life for ever!
He paused for a moment, regarding her. ‘So it boils down to this, what you’re really asking is that I should buy a donkey. Do you really think I’m going to have a moke wandering about Birchfields, just because you want to prove a point? Well, let me tell you, my dear girl, as far as Sandra’s concerned, it’s too late to turn the clock back. The wretched child’s never going to be any good and the sooner she removes herself the better I’m going to like it. No, I’m afraid you can put the whole idea out of your head. The Lennox Riding School can supply almost any type of horse, but we do not stock donkeys, I’m afraid.’
‘Well, it’s time you did,’ she blurted out, completely forgetting the tactful little speech she had prepared.
She had the satisfaction of seeing that this remark had riveted his attention.
‘It amazes me you were ever able to hold a job down if you spoke to your employer in that fashion.’
‘But you’re not being reasonable,’ she protested.
‘Whether I’m being reasonable or not is none of your business!’ His voice had an edge to it. ‘If Sandra is having difficulties because her father is pushing her beyond her capabilities, then that’s her problem—and his. Let her go to her father and talk it over with him. Perhaps he’ll get her a donkey,’ he added dryly.
‘But she can’t do that!’ she protested. ‘She wants him to be proud of her. How can she possibly admit to him that after all the lessons she has had she’s only fit to begin again at the beginning. I must say I gathered from the way she spoke of him that he’s a bit of a dragon.’
‘Like me, in other words! Is that what you’re saying?’ His blue eyes gazed at her steadily.
She glanced away, embarrassed. ‘I didn’t say you were,’ she replied rather weakly.
‘Come now, don’t give me that stuff! The villagers have been letting off steam about me, haven’t they? I’m not exactly a favourite around these parts, as no doubt you’ve heard. And I must say it seems to me your attitude agrees pretty closely with theirs. Not that it matters to me—as long as you do your job properly it doesn’t concern me whether you approve of me or not!’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’ve both had a pretty busy day and I suggest we drop the subject. I’m sure you’d like to get home, and I admit I’d like to knock off for a bit.’ Briony felt the colour rise to her face. So she was being summarily dismissed! Her importunities on Sandra’s behalf had only bored and exasperated him. If only she had departed as soon as she had seen her mission was a failure! She might have known that once Blane Lennox had made up his mind he was immovable.
‘I’m sorry to have wasted your time,’ she told him stiffly, as she walked swiftly towards the door.
‘Just a minute!’ he detained her. ‘I haven’t finished, you know.’
She turned, waiting resentfully.
‘There’s just one thing more, Briony. I have the notion—I may be wrong, of course—that you have the feeling that if you work long enough on me you’ll get me to reverse my decision. If I ever do change my mind it won’t be because of the wiles of a woman, so don’t ever bring up this donkey business again. And now, if you’ve got that straight, off you go.’
CHAPTER FIVE
On the following morning Briony found that the young children from the school were expected for a lesson and she was kept busy preparing the Shetland ponies. One of them, a new arrival at the Riding School, was a delightful little creature with a flowing black mane and tail. But he had not settled down yet and as she went into the paddock and approached him he laid back his ears and showed the whites of his eyes. Briony sighed as she trudged through the damp grass. She was going to have trouble getting a halter on him and bringing him in.
Eventually she pinned him in a corner of the paddock, rushed forward, halter in hand, only to have to jump aside in the nick of time as he lashed out with his heels.
At the same time a voice, none too gentle, called out, ‘What do you mean by approaching a Shetland in that fashion? It’s a wonder you haven’t had a nasty accident!’
Turning, she found Blane Lennox leaning on the rail, the ice-blue eyes regarding her with anything but an amiable expression.
‘You should have spoken to him as you came up from behind. Remember it’s natural to these animals to run wild in herds, and they’re suspicious of anything stealing up on them silently. It denotes danger. Now begin again. Go forward, speaking soothingly, and you’ll do a lot better.’
She nodded mutely and followed his instructions, finding it easy now to slip on the halter.
Blane joined her as she led the pony through the gate of the paddock.
‘He’s a lovely little animal,’ she said awkwardly, finding that he was striding along beside her in silence.
‘Yes, I think Black Prince is going to be quite an asset to the Lennox Riding School—especially for the very young kids.’ For a moment he glanced at her briefly. ‘I gather you haven’t ridden much since you were a child.’
Briony shook her head. ‘After Daddy died my mother and I weren’t very well off. It would have been impossible for us to keep a pony. Anyway, I had to take a job in an office and wouldn’t have had time to take care of it properly,’
‘I see! And did you like this office job?’
‘No, I prefer outdoor work. Anything to do with horses is ideal as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Then there was no stables or riding school nearby where you could have got employment, is that it?’
‘Well, yes, there was a place fairly near,’ she replied reluctantly.
‘But that would have been ideal, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes, I suppose so!’
‘Yet you didn’t take up something nearer home. You’ve come quite a long way to end up working in the Lennox Riding School.’
She hesitated, wary of what the next question might be. Blane Lennox was the last person in the world she would want to know her reason for travelling so far from home.
‘I—I was—was visiting my godmother,’ she began stammeringly. ‘And—and when I heard of the job I thought it might be fun. Something different, you understand.’
‘Indeed!’ There could be no mistaking the sardonic undertones.
She felt colour flare in her cheeks. It was as though those strangely penetrating eyes could read her thoughts.
But luckily they had reached the stable yard, and she was able to set to work grooming Black Prince.
Johnny, she found, was brushing a beautiful palomino horse as if his very life depended on bringing up the gleam in its golden coat. With every sweep of the body brush the animal looked more like a work of art carried out in molten gold.
Seeing Johnny’s efforts, Briony was determined to make Black Prince look as presentable as possible. He had his silken summer coat and it struck her that with a bit of effort on her part she could make the little pony look as beautiful in his own way as the mighty palomino.
She had almost completed her work when Senga MacNeil drove up in a station-wagon that appeared to be bursting at the seams with chattering youngsters. She got out looking superb in well-cut but informal clothes. She wore slacks tucked into boots and a well-cut hacking jacket.
As the children piled out she paused to admire Black Prince. ‘You’re making a wonderful job of the little Shetland,’ she said. ‘One so often sees them in their double winter coat, it’s easy to forget how pretty they can look.’
While she was speaking Johnny approached her leading the palomino.
With its snowy mane and tail against its golden coat it made an exquisite picture.
‘Well, Johnny, you’ve certainly got Golden Sovereign looking h
is best!’ With a little wave of her hand she said to Briony, ‘I won’t delay you,’ and with Johnny leading Golden Sovereign she went off towards one of the paddocks where jumps had been erected.
From where she stood Briony had a clear view as Johnny helped Senga to mount and as she saw how Senga sat her horse she knew immediately that Senga was a superb horsewoman.
Shortly afterwards Blane joined her, and Briony turned away as he began to school her in the jumps.
Briony’s first task was to establish some sort of order among the excited children. And when she had the children seated on what seemed to her the most suitable mounts she became engrossed in the lesson.
To Briony’s surprise Sandra also had turned up. But she made no effort to mount the pony Andy saddled for her. Instead she seated herself upon the topmost rail of the paddock in which the Shetlands were circling and surveyed her little schoolmates scowlingly.
For a moment Briony hesitated. She was anxious to help Sandra, but she felt immediately that there would be no point in trying to get her to join the younger children. No doubt Sandra was simply trying to attract notice in an attempt to bolster her self-confidence.
Time passed quickly. Then she heard Senga call out, ‘That’s enough, children! It’s time we were getting back to school.’
And Briony found that Senga and Blane were watching her. How long had they been there? she wondered. And what faults had Blane picked up? He certainly would give her no praise for her efforts, she felt sure. Oh well, she would soon hear all about it, she was thinking as she lifted the tiniest children from their saddles and led them back into the yard.
As the children piled into the station-wagon, chattering excitedly, Senga said to Briony, ‘I don’t know how you’ve the patience! Some of the children can be so troublesome. And then there’s Sandra—she’s a handful. I don’t know how you put up with her.’
New Boss at Birchfields Page 6