He took her by the elbow along rows of comfortable-looking enclosures piled high with sweet-smelling hay. Through the wooden slats, she could see beautiful horses, either eating from filled troughs or resting comfortably. They were intimidatingly large.
The path between the stalls was spotless: she guessed the family would have a fitting complement of staff to take care of the animals.
They came to a stall where Alex stopped, undid the latch, and motioned her inside with him. “You’re not seriously going to make me ride a horse, Alex!”
He smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t fret. You’ll enjoy it once you settle in. Riding is one of the most liberating sensations in the world.”
Jacyn wasn’t too sure about that. “Whose hare-brained idea was—”
“My mother’s.”
“Oh.” There was nothing more she could say about that, Jacyn thought. The Dowager had spoken.
Alex left her side and moved towards a stunning pearl-gray animal with huge brown eyes and sleek, shiny flanks that looked like it had been brushed down just this morning. He held out his arms to it, like he was greeting an old friend, and the horse walked into his embrace, resting its massive head upon his shoulder as he stroked its neck.
Jacyn stood by and watched in fascination as he caressed the beautiful creature, pressing his face into its neck, and murmuring softly to it in French. She had no idea what he was saying, but the affection and warmth in his tone held her mesmerized.
Nobody had ever spoken to her the way that man was speaking to his horse.
He turned to her and smiled, a genuinely happy smile. “This is Brute, the horse I rode as a teenager and a young man. He’s coming along a bit in age, but he’s still a magnificent beast, is he not?”
Jacyn nodded, not even realizing that she had taken several steps closer. The animal loomed over her, but its eyes were curious, rather than wary. “You must have missed him.”
Alex pressed his forehead against the horse’s skin again, and said, “I did.”
She was fascinated by the strength and grace of the animal, and the gentle curiosity in its eyes. Her arm raised of its own volition, and her fingers came into contact with the satiny pelt. “He is amazing. I’ve never seen a horse like this.”
He looked pleased at her assessment. “Brute is a Camargue horse, one of the oldest wild breeds in Europe. They come from the marshes of the Rhône, just north of Provence.”
“His coat looks like he’s captured moonlight. Like Pegasus, you know? Or a unicorn.”
“Camargue horses are known for their coloring. It’s actually quite fascinating: they are born black, but as they get older, they become almost white. They’re legendary for their beauty.” He paused and looked at her. “So, do you want to meet yours?”
“Mine?” She gasped.
“The horse you are going to ride. Today.” She found herself nodding eagerly, her anxiety replaced by excitement.
“Follow me, then.” He led her to another stall and opened it wide, revealing a chestnut gelding. “This is Orage. His name means ‘Storm’, but don’t you worry. He’s gentle and sure-footed. You will be safe with him.”
“Beautiful,” she breathed.
“You two should become friends.” He rummaged in his jacket pocket and held out a large, golden apple. “If you offer him a snack, he’ll be your buddy for life.”
Jacyn took the fruit from his hand, admittedly a bit nervous. She glanced from the horse’s large, toothy mouth to the fruit in her hand, wondering if she could manage to get the apple to the horse’s mouth without losing a finger.
He chuckled, seeming to understand her dilemma. “Hold your palm out flat,” he instructed, demonstrating. “Let him take it from you. He’ll be careful, I promise.”
She did as she was told, and the great, beautiful beast lowered its head and delicately plucked the apple from her hand, consuming it in a few short crunches. She giggled outright as its leathery lips brushed her palm. It tickled, and as he crunched, buts of apple and drool fell onto her hand.
“Eww!” She flapped her hand as if shaking water from it, and they both started laughing.
It was a single shared moment of pure delight.
Alex stepped away and began taking down a saddle from a large hook at the back of the stable. He expertly buckled it around the horse’s back and abdomen using a series of straps and closures, which Jacyn was sure she’d never be able to figure out. She found the process so engrossing that she forgot to be afraid.
Then he indicated the entrance to the stables with his head. “Let’s go,ma puce.Your first riding lesson.”
She walked on the other side of Orage, glad that the horse came between them, so Alex couldn’t see the flush of excitement on her face. As they stood on the open ground, the early morning mist beginning to fade with the warming, sunlit air, she asked nervously, “What if I fall?”