“I agree that I don’t see you counting linens or planning menus. Surely, darling, you realize that you would be competing in a man’s world when it comes to the horses. What makes you think you would be accepted, and anyone would even come to an auction sponsored by us?”
Clarissa hadn’t given this aspect much thought. “It’s true Gran. It is a man’s world, but I’ve been by my father’s side from the time I was old enough to walk. The horses are my life, my reason to get up each morning. Although it would be difficult to let any of them go, I’m willing to do it for the greater good. We could invite other farms to auction some of their stock too, thus taking the emphasis off of Lochwood.” She saw Gran ring for tea and remembered how she always said the problems of the world could be solved over a cup of tea.
Abigail smiled at a memory, “Oh my, I can see plain as day the first time your father put you on the back of a horse. I thought your mother was going to expire from anxiety, but you stuck to its back like you were born to be there.”
“I remember that day as well, I was so far off the ground. What an amazing feeling to be up that high. Everything looked much smaller from where I sat.” It was the first time in a week that she, too, smiled.
Clarissa had been her father’s constant companion around the stables. The pedigree charts kept on his office wall most intrigued her. English gentlemen in the 1620s imported their prize horses to the Colonies, establishing legalized racing in Virginia in the 1630s which then spread north.
Clarissa could recite this history with complete accuracy. A particular favorite being Diomed, the first great stud in the Richmond, Virginia’s Jockey Club. Standing at Chesterfield, he produced some of the best racers known in the country, followed by Medley, the best broodmare of her time.
The tea tray arrived, and Abigail poured. Clarissa continued to press her case. She was adamant about not getting married. “Gran, many of the Jockey Club members know me. Why I’ll bet the club president would be willing to help me. I’d like to do an assessment of the horses before we make a final decision. Will you at least give me that?” She sipped the tea and felt the warm liquid start to fortify her own plans.
“Of course, my dear, take a couple of days and come back with your proposal, I’ll hear you out.” Clarissa could practically see the whirlwind of ideas for the debut ball spinning around in Gran’s head. She had to convince Gran that her plan would better serve them than her getting married.
Clarissa had spent hours reviewing the horses in their inventory. Today she would meet with Baines, the Stable Master, to make her final selections. He had been with Lochwood Estate since the beginning of the stables. Horace had handpicked him because of his knowledge of horses and the way he had with them. Clarissa trusted him completely.
After several days of negotiation, it had taken a lot to convince her grandmother that an auction was their best course of action. They had agreed that if they did not garner enough funds from the auction, Clarissa would be presented to society and be expected to select a proper husband. Headstrong and determined to not make that a reality, Clarissa set her mind to the task at hand.
“Good morning, Baines, I see the horses are in fine shape, as always. I’m here to assess the lot and determine which ones to put up for auction. My father trusted you to keep them in top form and I will do the same.” Clarissa knew Baines had a deep love for the horses in his care and had been at Lochwood as far back as she could remember. He was a trusted and loyal employee, but he was more than that to her, they shared a kinship where these magnificent animals were concerned.
“You are very kind, Miss. I know you love and care for them as much as I do.” His Irish brogue was thick today as he looked at Clarissa with pride. “Although it saddens me to think we’ll be sellin’ off the lot.”
“Oh, not all of them Baines, just enough to take care of an urgent matter that has surfaced.”
“I saw Alex Kilpatrick arrive the other day. He’s a no-good lot if you ask me, and your father felt the same way. I’m guessin’ he’s behind this sudden need to sell off the horses. You don’t have to give me the details, just know that I will do whatever it takes to keep him away from you and Lochwood.”
“Thank you, Baines. It means so much to me to know you are my champion. I had no idea there was bad blood between father and Mr. Kilpatrick.”
“It goes back a long time ago when your mother was being courted by your father and Kilpatrick and one other gentleman. They were all vying for her favor.”
They calmly walked down the breezeway with horse stalls on either side, stopping at each box that housed a horse. Baines gave her a summary of each horse’s daily intake of food and their times on the racetrack. From these statistics, she would determine which ones to keep at stud and those that would be sold at auction. She had calculated the exact amount of money needed from each horse to clear up the outstanding notes held by Alex Kilpatrick.
It was only on the good credit established at the nearby mercantile in Mount Pleasant that Clarissa was able to purchase the necessary feed supplements for the horses and food for the household staff and estate workers. She was determined to make the auction a success. Living with Uncle Robert or marriage were not options she cared to entertain.
“Baines, I’ve set up a rigorous training schedule for the horses so as to meet the auction deadline. I think we will need to hire an extra hand to help with the horses. “Will you check around and see who might be available? I expect to maintain the highest quality of handlers as my father did. We’ll need him to start tomorrow. I haven’t any time to lose.”
“Yes Miss, I’ll start on it right away. May I say I’m real pleased to be working with you? I know you’ll do your father proud and I’m here to help in any way possible.”
“I’m counting on it.” Clarissa smiled at him knowing he was a key component to the estate’s success. She would need every bit of support she could gather in the coming weeks, emotional and physical.
One of the sacrifices she’d need to make was her usual routine of riding her favorite horse every day. She would need that time to keep up with the blistering training schedule she’d devised. At that moment, Clarissa decided she needed to take her horse, Figgy, for a good hard ride. She had missed her morning rides during the dark days following her parents’ deaths.
She saddled up her mare and headed for the bridle path through the orchards. Normally, she would ride to her favorite destination, the north meadow, where she often met Laura. Today, she would use the lower bridle path but would have to return shortly to keep on schedule. The days ahead would challenge the very strength of her mind and body.
Chapter Six
L ater that morning Clarissa worked Love’s Revenge with a lead rope. Baines checked on her whenever possible, always giving an approving nod as he watched her put the horse through its paces. She had a gentle hand with the horses and expected each of the grooms and stable lads to follow her lead. Clarissa would not tolerate even the slightest mishandling of any animal. To date, no one had been dismissed for what she considered the most grievous of offenses, animal abuse.
Time seemed to stand still when she was training. They worked long, hard hours rotating through the horses, timing them on the racetrack or hooked up to a surrey. Each horse had its own personality and Clarissa matched each one to where it performed the best.
~~~
Jimmy, the new hand hired to help feed and care for the horses was busy measuring out the night’s food portions for each horse. He was learning that this stable kept a written record of each horse’s intake every day. He carefully recorded the amounts in the record hanging on the individual stall doors. The buckets seemed heavier than the morning feed. He shrugged it off thinking it might be his arms feeling the workout they had gotten today while exercising the horses. As he returned the buckets to the feed room, he noticed the corner of a feed bag partially hidden under the hay. That seemed odd to him, but this was his first day here and he needed this job. It was
not his place to ask questions. He kept his head down and went about his chores.
~~~
The light of day was fading, and Clarissa had to return to the main house to dress for dinner with Gran. This was the one thing, among others, Gran had insisted on when she agreed to the auction. They would dine together each evening and expect a report of the day’s activities.
Clarissa eased into the warm bath that had been prepared with lavender and rose petals, dried last summer. They were made into little bundles wrapped in a loosely woven cloth. What a welcome relief to soak away the day’s tension and have a few private moments all to herself.
Every inch of her body ached from the long hours of work and she worried if she alone could determine the fate of Lochwood. She had always been able to set her mind to a task and follow it through to completion. It never occurred to her that she might not be able to finish a project she had started. Only this was no schoolroom task or personal challenge. This was the livelihood of the entire estate in her hands. The home and business her father had worked so hard to build, plus the livelihood of all the people employed at Lochwood. Not to mention if she failed, she would not only let herself and her staff down but what of poor Gran, who would have to swallow an enormous serving of pride and move in with in-laws. Clarissa cringed at this last thought. It was enough to propel her out of the bath and quickly dress.
Abigail was already seated in the breakfast nook just off the kitchen when Clarissa walked through the doorway. Although they dressed for dinner, they preferred this more intimate setting to the formal dining room, which seated twenty people comfortably. The table was elegantly laid with its fine linen tablecloth, silver, china and candles to complete the scene.
“You look as lovely as ever my dear,” stated Abigail. “How was your day with the horses?”
“Oh, fine, Gran. I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard in all my life but it’s such a good feeling to have a purpose.” She hoped her determined attitude would mask her fears. Gran had enough on her mind without adding Clarissa’s worries that her hard-won plans wouldn’t succeed. “I fear the stable lads and grooms will have a mutiny before the auction if I don’t ease up a bit.” She smiled as she seated herself.
Abigail looked stern as she pointed her right index finger at Clarissa. “You my dear must treat the help with as much respect as you do your horses. Remember, a kind word of encouragement goes a long way to earning loyalty and trust. You must learn that balance.”
Clarissa nodded in agreement. “Yes Gran, I know. It will take a while, but I know I can do this.” She shuddered to think of the alternative, “Because living with Uncle Robert and his family in Boston isn’t an option.”
“Well, no, but what about marriage?” asked Abigail as she dished up some stew and passed it to Clarissa.
Clarissa accepted the serving dish and ladled the rich mixture into her bowl as she watched Gran for a reaction.
“You remember our bargain. If the auction fails to yield sufficient funds to pay off the notes, we will be attending the upcoming Season and searching for a husband for you.”
“I cringe at the thought,” mumbled Clarissa as she took her first bite.
“Nevertheless, my dear, keep it in the back of your mind.”
The stew was delicious, as always. They were so fortunate to have Cook. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to keep her or any of the staff if Clarissa didn’t make all the money they needed and more at the auction.
Abigail had a faraway look in her eyes. “I remember as if it were yesterday, planning your mother’s debut. Suitors lined up around the ballroom for a chance to fill her dance card.” She paused to look at Clarissa who was embarrassed to be falling asleep at the table. “Perhaps I’ll save that story for another time. You look exhausted. Off to bed with you then. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Weary from the day’s work Clarissa excused herself to her rooms. She would not be working on the ledgers tonight.
Chapter Seven
C larissa’s fine boots made a crunching sound on the gravel path as she made her way to the stables. Figgy would be waiting for her with an eagerness born of this fine summer morning. The familiar sound of the horses being fed by the grooms reached Clarissa as she entered the stables. Approaching Figgy’s stall, she heard a soft whinny and the filly’s nostrils flared as she bobbed her head in greeting. Clarissa placed her hand on Figgy’s forehead and gently ran it down her face to the mouth where she offered a few bites of carrot, which were greedily accepted. Even when the circumstances were as dire as they were right now, she could always take solace in her horse, her friend.
They were to see Laura in the northeast meadow near the bridle path for a quick meeting before the day’s grind started. Clarissa placed her left boot in the stirrup and gracefully swung her right leg over the saddle with the ease of a long-accomplished rider. The split skirt she wore for riding astride and working with the horses would have been scandalous outside of Lochwood’s boundaries, but she didn’t care, especially if wearing it made her a better rider.
The quick pounding of Figgy’s hooves echoed as dull thuds when they rushed onto the bridle path. This area of the Estate encompassed apple orchards and weeping cherry trees on each side of the path intermingled with grass and occasional wildflowers. The fragrance of ripe apples was heavy with the early morning dew and would be more intense with the heat of the day.
Now the air was cool, and Clarissa’s cheeks were pink. Her long auburn hair flew back away from her face. There was a rhythm and cadence to Figgy’s hoof beats, which Clarissa found soothing. Her thoughts were jumbled worrying about the auction and trying to think of alternatives to the bargain she’d made with Gran. Then she concentrated on the twists and turns of the path. She was so engrossed with the ride that she hardly noticed the peach and orange-tinged sunrise hanging over the Hudson River. She rode fast and hard to her favorite meadow to meet her best friend, Laura.
An early morning mist found Laura and Clarissa at the bridle path near the northeast pasture. Laura was waiting for Clarissa and dismounted when she and Figgy approached. Clarissa dismounted easily and they embraced with a quick hug.
“Good morning my friend,” greeted Laura. “It seems like forever since we’ve met here in the meadow. How goes the training and preparations for the auction?”
Should she confide her fears in her long-time friend? Maybe she would, just not yet. “They are going well enough, thank you for asking. I hired another groom yesterday to help with this final push leading up to auction day. Last night as I walked through the stables during feeding, I noticed he looked away whenever I approached. Perhaps he is shy and had never worked for a woman before now.”
“That is a distinct possibility. I admire you, you know. You set your mind to a task and then go about it without any thought that you might fail. I wish I had just a tiny pinch of that talent.”
Clarissa was grateful for the confidence boost, even if Laura didn’t know that’s what her words had done. They walked side by side through the meadow as they chatted. Clarissa’s limp was not noticeable this morning. “Oh, but you do Laura. Your talents lie in knowing the latest Parisian clothing styles, selecting the proper dress for each occasion, and in how to bat your eyes at a handsome gentleman to gain his favor. All things I am not good at doing.”
“We do seem to complement each other, don’t we,” replied Laura. “Enough of this chit-chat, I’ll race you back to the bridle path.” Her eyes flashed with mischief as she mounted her horse and Clarissa quickly passed her, both of them laughing as they sped across the meadow.
Although Clarissa was glad for this small amount of time with Laura, she could feel her stomach start to knot up with tension as she approached the stables to resume another day of fast-paced training.
The president of the local Jockey Club had dropped by to see how Clarissa was doing with the training. “Good morning, Mr. Bates. To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” asked Clarissa.
“I wanted to see how your horses were doing and suggest that you might want to invite a few of the other farms to participate in the auction as well.”
“I was thinking of doing just that.”
“I’m on my way to the racetrack now and you’re welcome to come along if you like. We can talk about your idea as we go.” Clarissa was surprised to see Mr. Bates at the stables, but he had been a friend to her father. At the racetrack, they observed a couple of Lochwood’s best horses train on the quarter-mile track. Clarissa had seen faster times for both horses, but Mr. Bates seemed impressed.
“So, what do you think of my idea?” asked Mr. Bates.
“Interesting, to be sure, who do you have in mind?”
“There are a couple of farms that I think might have an interest. I wanted to speak to you first. It would be a great way to showcase our Hudson River Valley horse farms.”
Although Mr. Bates seemed pleased with the track times he had observed, the plan she had on paper was not what was actually happening on the race and surrey tracks. Clarissa expected more out of the horses. Their run times were slower now, which didn’t make sense to her. This added to the heavyweight of responsibility she was feeling more and more each day. She shuddered to think of the alternative to a successful auction day.
Chapter Eight
S everal days had passed since Mr. Bates’ visit to the Estate and Baines was waiting at the stables when Clarissa returned from her ride. He held Figgy’s reins as she dismounted.
“Beautiful day today, isn’t it, Baines?” Clarissa’s cheeks were very colored now after the hard ride.
“Aye, lassie, that it ‘tis, except for a couple of the horses acting a bit peculiar like,” his Irish brogue which had been heavy of late was even more pronounced today. That meant trouble.
Clarissa: Historical Romance (Chronicles of the Hudson River Valley Book 1) Page 3
