Elizabeth eagerly moved to be close enough to pet the majestic Hephaestus. Reaching into the pocket of her riding habit, she pulled out the large carrot she had grabbed from the kitchen at Barlow Hall. Mr. Branson nodded when she looked to him for permission. Hephaestus did not hesitate. He consumed the offering in one large chomp.
“You have made a friend for life,” Branson told her.
“Should we move into the paddock?” Miss Darcy asked, coming up beside her friend.
“Perhaps you and I could go visit Hera and give her the treats I know you brought,” Mr. Darcy suggested.
“But I want to help Elizabeth,” she protested.
“And you will, but why don’t we let Branson and Miss Baxter take charge for the time being?” her father said, offering her his arm.
“Fine, I suppose,” she pouted. “You will be all right without me?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth insisted with a smile. “However, I think the adults have a plan, and perhaps we should let it play out.”
“Very well, you are in good hands,” Miss Darcy told her before giving Elizabeth’s shoulder a pat and taking her father’s arm. They strode into the large open doors of the stable.
Miss Baxter watched them disappear into the stable and then moved closer to Elizabeth, Branson and Hephaestus. “Would you like to mount him?” she asked.
This was the part Elizabeth dreaded. She loved horses. Loved to pet them, feed them, watch them graze or gallop (with others on their backs). These things she did often at Barlow Hall and even occasionally at home—though at Longbourn, there were fewer horses. However, she had not sat atop a horse since her disastrous lessons all those years ago.
“I suppose that is a necessary first step,” she said much more timidly than was her wont.
“We have all summer, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Baxter said kindly. “We need not ride today. We can simply get used to Hephaestus, or if you would like, I can mount him and talk you through some of the fundamentals.”
“But you are not dressed to ride,” Elizabeth answered.
“Oh, that matters not for our purposes. I would only be trotting sedately around the pen with you and Branson leading Hephaestus.”
Although appreciative of the offer, Elizabeth decided riding would not get easier if she put it off for longer. They led her into the paddock. A stableboy appeared and held the horse’s reins as she made her way to a mounting block. Branson stood beside her as the stableboy led Hephaestus to where they waited. Elizabeth took the two steps of the block on shaky legs with a rapidly beating heart. Without giving herself too much time to think, she mounted as Miss Baxter instructed.
“Very good, child,” Branson praised. He made several adjustments to the stirrups and reins before leading Elizabeth around the small paddock. After the first pass along the wooden fence lining the enclosure, he asked, “How do you feel, Miss?”
Elizabeth thought a moment before answering, a wide smile on her face. “I feel like I have been missing out!”
Branson laughed and continued to lead her in wide circles for several more minutes. Looking about from her high perch, Elizabeth took in the sweeping views of Pemberley Wood and the house up the hill. She could just see the edges of a lake in the opposite direction of the wood and wondered if it was part of the estate. Beneath her, Elizabeth thought she could feel the horse restraining himself. Like her, he seemed to want to move faster, go further. Go anywhere. The paddock was not small, but even at their slow pace, it took barely a minute to circumvent it.
“Soon,” she whispered to her new four-legged friend. “We will explore this beautiful piece of country together. I can hardly wait!”
Miss Baxter looked on, occasionally calling on her to adjust her seat this way or that.
Despite its glacial pace, Elizabeth greatly enjoyed her tame trot and was proud that she had taken such a big step towards actual riding. She soon learned that the fifteen minutes atop the mighty Hephaestus would not only be the highlight of her lesson but also its shortest component. The remainder of the hour was spent out of the saddle. She was not excited to be asked to mount and dismount over and over so that she could accomplish it without incident and with minimal assistance, but she did feel more confident in her abilities once Branson declared her passable at the tasks. Once they led him into the stables, she did enjoy caring for Hephaestus and learning what he required to cool down after a ride.
“You are a natural,” Miss Darcy told her as, along with Miss Baxter and Mr. Darcy, they made their way back to the house. Her friend had watched the last minute or so of her lesson. Afterwards, she introduced Elizabeth to the other six horses who called Pemberley stables home. They were all beautiful animals. They were friendly, too—especially as Elizabeth offered each a carrot—provided by Miss Darcy.
“I feel I am bribing them to like me,” Elizabeth told her friend, even as she gave Poseidon, her Mr. Darcy’s horse, an extra carrot to ensure his affection.
“We would have loved to keep you longer, but your aunt made me promise you would return in time for your music lesson,” Mr. Darcy told her. As if on cue, the Gardiner carriage pulled into the drive.
“Oh yes, of course,” Elizabeth said, having forgotten entirely anything beyond Pemberley. “Thank you so very much for the lesson. I am grateful for your generosity.” Turning to include Miss Darcy and Miss Baxter, she added, “I feel you have given, are giving, me a priceless gift.”
“You are welcome, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy responded. “We will send the carriage for you Thursday at ten o’clock. I have a feeling you will be galloping around Derbyshire in no time.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Goodbye for now, Miss Elizabeth,” Miss Darcy said, stepping in to hug her friend, but pausing as if unsure. Elizabeth moved closer and initiated the embrace.
“You are a great friend, Miss Darcy.”
