“We have to do well in our competition,” Carole said.
“I thought that was what I was supposed to say,” Stevie joked.
“I don’t mean we have to win, although I wouldn’t mind that. What I did mean is that we are sort of ambassadors for Pony Clubs and we want to be sure we represent the organization well,” Carole explained.
“That won’t be any problem at all as long as I’m riding a wonderful horse like Copperfield,” said Stevie. “He’s just about perfect—almost as good as Belle.” Stevie loved her own horse, Belle, better than any other horse anywhere, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy riding Copperfield when Belle wasn’t around.
Carole nudged Miss Havisham into a trot. The horse picked up the gait immediately, flicking her tail proudly. “This one’s a lot of fun, too,” said Carole.
Copperfield trotted on after Miss Havisham. Next Lisa nudged Pip. He remained at a walk. That was unusual. Most of the time when a horse in front of another changed gaits, the horse behind automatically took it up. Lisa nudged again, but Pip stubbornly refused to go faster. This wasn’t at all like the behavior Pip had shown just two days earlier at Tessa’s house. Lisa was surprised, but realized that perhaps it was because he was more upset by the long trip than the others.
“Come on, Lisa,” Carole said. “Get him moving!”
Lisa nudged Pip again, this time harder, almost a kick. She also jangled the reins a bit. It wasn’t great riding form, but it might get Pip’s attention. It did. He started cantering and zipped by the others. This was downright naughty behavior on Pip’s part, and Lisa couldn’t let him get away with it. She tightened up on the reins to bring him back to a trot. He shook his head rebelliously and then stopped.
This was not a good sign.
“I’m doing something wrong,” Lisa said.
“Don’t be silly,” Carole said, drawing up next to her. She reached over and patted Pip on the neck reassuringly. “I think he’s just being fussy because he’s in a strange place. Once he gets down to some serious riding, he’ll forget all about his surroundings and only pay attention to you. Let’s start again at a walk.”
Lisa nudged him and Pip began walking. The next time Carole started trotting on Miss Havisham, Pip trotted, too, but it wasn’t an easy gait as it had been the other day. Although he obliged Lisa and followed her directions, he didn’t seem a willing participant. After half an hour of riding, she’d had enough.
“Maybe he just needs to rest a little bit more,” she said.
“Maybe,” Stevie agreed. “And maybe we should do the same. Max said that all of the Pony Club teams were going to have a dinner together tonight. We’re going to have to shower and change first, so why don’t we pack it in for the day and get back to the hotel?” Carole and Lisa agreed.
Riding when there were stablehands—lads—to do all the work was very different from riding at Pine Hollow, where the girls were responsible for their own horses.
“I think I could get used to this,” said Stevie a few minutes later when the lad who was looking after Copperfield approached to help her out of the saddle.
Carole shook her head. “Not me,” she said. “Riding is a lot more than climbing into the saddle, riding, and then climbing back out. It’s about being totally responsible for your horse and knowing everything there is to know about his—uh, excuse me Miss Havisham, her—welfare. That’s one thing Max is one hundred percent right about.”
“But while we’re here, can we just pretend it’s okay to let someone else do the work?” Stevie asked.
“Okay.” Carole relented, handing her reins to the lad waiting for her.
The three girls dismounted, thanked the lads, and left the stable to return to the hotel.
They were rounding the castle wall where the road led to the main street of Cummington town when they first saw Veronica.
“I thought she was taking a nap,” said Carole.
“Why is it we always forget to never believe a word she says?” Stevie remarked.
“What is she doing?” asked Lisa. That was a better question than Stevie’s because whatever Veronica was doing, it certainly looked strange.
The Saddle Club ducked behind a tree so they could watch Veronica without being readily visible. Veronica was walking around the grass outside of the castle wall, studying the area intensely. She looked around at the ground, and she looked around at the sky. Her eyes followed the bed of the creek that fed the castle’s moat. There was a large old tree near where she stood. She studied it as well.
“She’s flipped,” said Stevie finally.
“Why do you say that?” asked Lisa. “She seems to know exactly what she’s doing.”
“Maybe these are the symptoms of severe shopping withdrawal,” Stevie reasoned. “After all, she never did get to Harrods. So maybe she’s just looking to see if there’s a branch of Laura Ashley at the castle wall.”
Lisa didn’t think it was a very likely explanation, but it was as good as any.
“Maybe,” she conceded.
“And maybe we don’t have to pay any attention to her,” said Carole. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”
They cut across the grass to the road to return to the hotel. Whatever Veronica was doing, she was concentrating too intensely to notice them, and that was all right as far as The Saddle Club was concerned.
SIXTEEN PONY CLUBBERS and all four of their coaches, plus Mrs. Reg, met in the hotel lobby that night to go out to dinner.
“I’m Miss Thimbleby,” said the English coach. “Everybody calls me Thim, though, so you might as well, too.” The Pony Clubbers and their coaches spent the next few minutes exchanging names. It was easy for the Horse Wise group and the Italian boys, because they knew one another. The English riders and the Dutch took a little longer to remember. Also, the Dutch coach had a very long name—Herr von Heudenbroek. Lisa hoped she’d never have to call him anything!
Thim continued. “Since you’re here in our nation, we think of ourselves as your hosts, and so we are inviting you all out to dinner tonight. We’ve reserved a room upstairs at one of the downtown restaurants—”
“There is a downtown here?” Veronica whispered to Lisa. “All I saw was a little village.”
“—of course, downtown is just the little village of Cummington,” Thim went on. “So it will only take us a few minutes to walk there. Follow us, then. We’ve chosen a place called Azzip. It’s famous for having the best pizza within a twenty-kilometer radius of Cummington. Isn’t that just mouthwatering? We thought that would be a special treat for you young visitors.”
The news was more than a little surprising to the American girls. The Saddle Club was beginning to think that the only food available in England was pizza.
“Have you ever heard of the idea of too much of a good thing?” Stevie asked her friends.
“Oh, don’t make such a fuss,” said Lisa. “Everybody is just trying to be nice to us.”
“Maybe they’ll be a little less nice to us tomorrow so we can have hamburgers.”
“Shhh,” Carole hushed her. “We are guests, you know.”
“I know,” said Stevie. “Besides, I really do love pizza. I think I do. At least, I used to.”
Lisa stifled a giggle. Stevie was being funny, but nobody wanted to hurt anybody’s feelings.
“Avanti,” said the Italian boys. They began their brief walk downtown.
Lisa was pleased to find Enrico walking beside her.
“Did you have a good ride this afternoon?” he asked.
“I did and I didn’t,” Lisa said truthfully. “My horse—his name is Pip—was giving me trouble. I don’t know why, either. The other day when I rode him, he was such a dream. Carole, Stevie, and I think that maybe he fussed because he’s in a new place.”
“Ah, perhaps,” said Enrico. Lisa smiled to herself. She loved the way Enrico said “perhaps.” Although he spoke excellent English with almost no accent, there were some words that just had a nice lilt t
o them. “Perhaps” was one of them. It came out more like “puh-heps.”
“We’ll just have to see how he behaves tomorrow,” said Lisa. “I’ve got to say, though, if he’s as naughty tomorrow as he was today, the American team will not be taking home any blue ribbons.”
“Ah, perhaps you don’t have to worry about that,” said Enrico. “Since the Italian team will doubtlessly be performing at its best, it will not be your horse’s fault that the team does not win.” There was a twinkle in his eye. It was a challenge and Lisa intended to meet it.
“Puh-heps we’ll see,” she said.
“Hmmm,” he responded. Then he took her arm and tucked it around his so that they could walk closer together. They didn’t stay together long, however. Much to Lisa’s surprise, she found herself being jostled away from Enrico, and, before she knew it, he had let go of her arm and Veronica was walking between them.
“Is the restaurant this way?” Veronica asked Enrico, talking only to him as if Lisa had disappeared from the face of the earth.
“Since the whole group appears to be walking in that direction, I would say that is correct,” Enrico answered her. Lisa couldn’t believe how polite he was being.
“Of course it is!” she snapped at Veronica.
Veronica didn’t look at her.
“I just love pizza,” said Veronica. “But I don’t think the pizza in America or England is anywhere near as good as the pizza in your homeland, Enrico. Don’t you agree?”
Enrico was about to answer her when Stevie’s voice rose above the crowd.
“Oh, look at that jewelry store!” she said loudly, pointing across the narrow street. It was more than Veronica could resist. She excused herself from Enrico and scooted across the street just as the rest of the group was entering the restaurant.
It was a cozy restaurant, much like the pub in the inn where they were staying. The building was old, with dark brown beams crossing the ceiling. They followed the owner up a narrow set of stairs to what must have once been a loft and now served as a small room for private parties. Their tables were all laid out and waiting for them. The owner assured the riders that their pizza would be there in a few minutes.
By the time Veronica rejoined the group, complaining that the jewelry store had little more than costume jewelry to offer, Lisa and Enrico were seated at a table for eight with Stevie, two boys from Holland, and three of the English riders. There was no room for Veronica. Stevie winked at Lisa. Lisa smiled back. Stevie was a very good friend. But she’d always known that.
Veronica, however, was undaunted. She tapped one of the Dutch boys on his shoulder and told him that his friend wanted him to sit at the other table. The boy was so polite that he moved to the other table and was seated before he had time to wonder exactly who it was who had wanted him there. Once he’d moved, Veronica slid happily into his seat, directly across from Enrico.
In a few minutes the pizza was delivered. The buzz of conversation quieted while the young riders delved into the crusty, crisp pizza that was the specialty of the house. By the time everyone was reaching for a second slice, Thim stood up to speak.
“I have some good news for all of you,” she began. “On the second night of the three-day event—that means not tomorrow night, but the night after—we are all invited to a ball at the castle.”
“A ball! But I don’t have anything to wear!” Veronica practically exploded. It was so typically Veronica that The Saddle Club almost laughed out loud.
“You don’t need a ballgown for this,” Thim said. “It’s actually a costume ball. In honor of the Duke of Cummington, costume will be of the Civil War era. The Pony Clubbers from Skelton Green—that’s my team, in case you don’t know it—will be glad to help any of you put together your outfits. The dance itself isn’t very formal, but a Civil War ball is always a fun event and this should be no exception!”
“Civil War? Why, I can go as Scarlett O’Hara!” Veronica declared. Then, as if it were a cue to herself, she fell into character, selecting Enrico as her hero. “Oooh, Rhett,” she began in a phony Southern accent.
“Wrong Civil War,” Lisa corrected her. “This is the English Civil War. The Puritans in Parliament, known as the Roundheads, opposed the king’s men, the Cavaliers. Eventually they overthrew King Charles the First, and even beheaded him, leaving the country under the rule of Oliver Cromwell until Charles the Second returned to England to claim the throne after Cromwell’s death. That was three hundred fifty years ago, in the sixteen-forties. The Duke of Cummington was a Cavalier, but he never actually fought. He remained in his castle, guarding it against occasional Roundhead raiders.”
“How did you know all this?” Carole asked, impressed.
“I told you,” Lisa said. “We went to the library this morning.”
“You actually meant that?” Veronica blurted out.
“Of course,” said Lisa. “Where did you think we were?” Veronica ignored her question and countered with another one. “What else did you learn about this guy Cummington?”
“Not much,” said Lisa. “We were just getting to that part when we realized we had to get back to the hotel. I mean, we found out that he was pretty rich, but I guess we can tell that by the size of his house.”
The other riders laughed at that.
Enrico continued the explanation, telling the last of what they’d learned. “There was a—what did you call it, footnote?—yes, footnote. Something about how nobody ever knew exactly how much wealth he had because it was never found.”
“It probably got stolen,” Lisa said. “A lot of that happened.”
“Definitely,” Veronica assured them. Her certainty surprised The Saddle Club. “I mean, in a war, a lot of people steal a lot of things. I’m sure that must be what happened. It only makes sense, doesn’t it?”
Lisa thought it did make sense, but she also thought it rather odd that Veronica should be the one to have any common sense about a treasure. She shrugged it off. Veronica acting strange was nothing new. She had much more interesting things to think about, such as would her third slice of pizza be pepperoni or plain?
Enrico, however, was curious. He turned to one of the English riders, a young girl who’d been very quiet the whole time. Lisa remembered that her name was Ashley Hanna. “Do you know any more of the story of Lord Cummington?” Enrico asked.
Ashley seemed pleased to be asked. “Well, there are stories, of course, but one doesn’t know whether to believe them or not. There are a great many tales from that era, most of them apocryphal,” she said.
“A-poc-what?” asked Enrico.
“It means of doubtful authenticity,” said Veronica, smiling at Enrico.
Lisa didn’t care whether the tales were true or not. She thought it would be fun to hear some of the stories and was about to ask Ashley to tell one when Veronica broke into the conversation again.
“If we go as Cavaliers, we can wear fancy clothes, can’t we?” she asked.
“Oh, yes!” said Ashley brightly. “The Cavaliers were the king’s men and women. The Roundheads were the Puritans. The king’s men wore very fancy clothes indeed. At the Civil War costume balls I’ve read about, only the very wealthy guests come as Cavaliers. They are the only ones who can afford to dress in that manner.”
Veronica’s face fell. “Oh, dear,” she said. “All my good jewelry is back in the States. I had no idea when I was packing …”
People who didn’t know Veronica were often surprised when she said things like that. All the other young riders seemed confused, but Veronica didn’t surprise The Saddle Club at all. It delighted Stevie because it gave her the opportunity to let Veronica make even more of a fool of herself.
“Veronica, you know it’s only midafternoon in Virginia now. You still have time to call home and have the maid pack up a gown and some proper jewelry and send it here by express service. It’ll arrive in plenty of time for the ball.”
Carole had an idea, too. “Or, you could go to the jewelr
y store across the street when it’s open and buy a few bangles to dress up whatever you have here.”
“You’re right! I could,” Veronica said excitedly. “It’s really not too late, is it? Is there a phone here?”
“I’m sure I saw a pay telephone in the hallway downstairs,” Ashley said.
“Excuse me, please,” Veronica said, standing up. She went to the stairs and disappeared into the hallway.
“I thought she was joking,” Ashley said. “But she seems serious about this. Is that right?”
“Dead serious,” Stevie assured her.
“Oh, dear. I never should have told her about the costumes. It’ll be such a bother for her and it doesn’t have to be. The costumes are all for fun, you know.”
“Dressing is never just fun for Veronica,” Stevie said. “Besides, it wasn’t your fault.”
“No, I guess some things can’t be helped,” Ashley said.
“Veronica definitely falls into that category,” Stevie assured her. “She can’t be helped.” Ashley smiled at Stevie’s joke and then offered her another slice of pizza. When everybody had had another slice, the talk turned to horses—a common topic for everyone in the room.
Lisa thought it was wonderful to be with so many other people who shared her love of horses. It was a Pony Club event, but it almost felt like an international Saddle Club meeting, too. Everybody seemed to want to help everybody else. When Lisa mentioned that her horse had been giving her a hard time that afternoon, Ashley suggested that perhaps it was just a matter of the new stall.
“My horse always takes a day to adjust. I’m sure Pip will be fine tomorrow.”
“Sometimes it isn’t just a new place,” Henrik, one of the Dutch boys, said. “The water or the grain is different from home and that upsets a fussy horse. I bet that’s it. Again, he’ll adjust in a day or so, but, of course, not in time to save Horse Wise from the terrible defeat it will suffer at the hands of the Netherlands team.”
There was a sparkle in Stevie’s eyes. “Don’t count on it,” she said to Henrik. “Based on past experience, Horse Wise would beat your team if one of our horses were on crutches!”
Secret of the Stallion Page 5
