“They’re so beautiful,” she said, awestruck.
“Indeed. There is some extraordinary horseflesh in these barns. I’m fortunate to have the partner I do.” Annie knew he meant the queen. “Her father was one of the finest riders I’ve ever known. He picked some of the greatest racehorses we’ve had. You can’t learn that kind of judgment. It’s a gift. She and I have spent years trying to figure out some of his decisions. I’ve never known him to make a mistake. I can’t say the same for myself.” He smiled at her. “It’s not just about speed, it’s about heart and courage and endurance. You have to believe in them. They know it when you do and they rarely let you down.” He pointed to some of the horses she’d been looking at, as examples of what he meant. She felt grateful to be there, and wanted to learn all she could. Most of her feelings about horses were based on pure instinct, not always on what you could see. Jonathan had taught her that too.
“You have to love them. People are like that too,” he said wisely, as they walked out of the last barn. “Is there any horse you’d particularly like to ride today?” he asked generously, “except for the queen’s. She’s particular about that.” He smiled tenderly, and Annie could see both respect and affection in his eyes. “She has a keen eye for horseflesh. We’ve made some interesting choices together. We balance each other. Horses can teach you a great deal about life. Your stepfather tells me you want to be a jockey. Why is that? It’s a tough business. Most men think women aren’t suited to it. I disagree. I think women will be better at it, once they’re allowed to ride professionally. That day will come. It’s not far off, if you’re serious about it.”
“I am,” she said, as they stopped at a coffee machine and he filled a mug and handed it to her. “I like the excitement and the speed,” she said, taking a sip of the strong brew. “But I like the calculation and the theory along with what you have to know about the horse you’re riding. There’s so much soul to great racehorses, maybe that’s what I love about it. They try so hard and they’re so brave. It’s not just about winning, it’s about how you get there. Everything about it appeals to me. And the combination of rider and horse is so important. I think jockeys lose races, not horses.” It was a fine point, something he always said himself. You could put some jockeys on a mule and they’d win a race, and give others the finest racehorses in the world and they’d lose every time.
“You’ll be a fine jockey one day if you think that way,” he said, getting to know her better. “Horses are a lot less complicated than people,” he commented, and she remembered that he had been married three times. “We have a new horse you might like to try. I’d be interested to hear what you think of him.” In theory, he was much too big for her, but instinct told him that she could manage almost any mount, her stepfather had said the same, and she liked a challenge. She was an amazing girl, and with her history, something of a dark horse herself. She had come from nowhere, and was suddenly the surprise of the hour. It was all about breeding and courage and bloodlines, and perseverance, and she had them all. The queen had said as much when she recommended her to him, and he trusted her judgment implicitly. And she had turned out to be a fine monarch.
He led Annie to the stall of the horse he was thinking of for her. He was a magnificent stallion, and her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him.
“I’m not sure he’ll ever win a race for us, but he’s an interesting ride. We’ve had him for about a month. I don’t know him well enough to tell. He doesn’t trust us yet. He has a slightly dodgy history, but fabulous bloodlines.” She could see it in the way he stood and moved, even in his stall. “You can take him out now if you like.” She finished her coffee, put the mug in a sink, and went to get a saddle. She walked into his stall with confidence, and led him out. His name was Flash, and she looked ridiculously small beside him, which didn’t occur to her at all. She had him saddled in a few minutes, led him to a mounting block, swung up easily, and let herself into one of the rings, as Lord Hatton watched. She had a light hand on the reins, and her legs were short but powerful. She was guiding him with her knees as much as her hands, and had a fluid grace that blended with the horse. She rode him around the ring to get a sense of him, changed directions several times, and then eased him into a gallop. The horse seemed to be enjoying it as much as she was. He balked at a sound nearby which didn’t faze her, and her confidence and poise calmed him, as Lord Hatton watched her, fascinated. She had all the instincts he looked for in a rider, and was unaware of them herself. She had the powerful horse in her full command, and he could tell that the stallion trusted her, which was half the battle.