Page 45 of A Single Thread of Moonlight

Matilda was waiting for me upstairs, with a full riding habit laid out across the bed. I wasn’t sure precisely how she had anticipated that need but I appreciated her hard work. I knew what it cost to spend long hours working only for someone else’s enjoyment. That was something I would never have truly understood if I hadn’t left this place.

The riding habit was a deep azure-blue velvet, with silver military-style frogging down the front, and silver buttons on the sleeves, embossed with the image of a fox – clearly Nicholas Wynter’s idea of a joke. There was a matching hat: small and neat, in the same colour, with a ribbon of a slightly darker blue, a feather, dyed to match, and a short blue veil that pulled down over the top half of my face.

Matilda pulled all my hairpins out and styled my hair again, lower this time to allow for the hat. I couldn’t imagine ladies being able to get anything worth doing done with all the time they had to spend changing their hair and their clothes.

It was strange, being Serena. Like a glimpse of what could have been. There were things that I liked about her life, but also things that I didn’t. It already felt like every minute of the day was accounted for, but there was little to show for it.

Still, I thought with a shiver of excitement, there were some compensations.

And I set out for the stables.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I had timed it well, arriving before anyone else. It had blossomed into one of those days that felt more like late summer than autumn. Only the slight breeze saved it from being too warm in my new habit.

The stables were a series of low buildings on the west side of the house. In my father’s day, they had been where the money went. He may not have added his own wing, or decked out the house in luxury, but the stables were world-class, immaculate and filled with prime horseflesh.

Now I saw that some of the shine was off. They were still obviously looked after – I couldn’t imagine Helena allowing anything to fall into disrepair – but there was not the same sense of energy, the same number of grooms and stable hands busy at work.

I wandered along the long row of stalls.

Several stood empty that had once been filled. Some of the horses had obviously been sold – I wasn’t sure how much Helena’s allowance was. It would have cost a lot to maintain for someone who didn’t have a passion for it.

I spotted Helena’s grey, and Agatha’s chestnut mare. There was a new horse that must belong to Cassie, and there were several of my father’s horses still here. Helena must have been well-advised, because she had kept the cream of the crop, including my father’s stallion, Hercules.

I approached Hercules’ stall cautiously. Part of me was afraid that he wouldn’t know me and that would feel somehow like a rejection from someone dear to me. His dark head bobbed up, over the gate, and he whickered.

I held out my hand and he lipped at my fingers. I scratched his neck and tried to keep myself from crying. It was almost as if he was a piece of my father.

“I know, I know,” I sang softly. “I miss him too.”

There was a thump on the wall that divided the stalls, and I felt an answering one in my chest. She had heard my voice. She knew me.

“Asteria,” I breathed.

There she was, beautiful as ever. Her dark coat gleaming, that imperious way she shook her head, the dangerous spark in her eyes – I remembered it all. I felt the velvet of her muzzle tickle my hair, and for a moment I stood, my face pressed to her neck, just as I had as a child.

I could hear footsteps and low humming and a moment later, a stable boy came round the corner. “Hello, miss,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

I gave him a watery smile. “Of course,” I managed. “I was just saying hello. There are some real beauties in your stables.”

“Yes, miss,” the boy said. He grinned. “Though that one there’s usually wary of strangers. You must have the touch!”

“I must have,” I agreed, reluctantly taking a step back. “I’ll get out of your way and wait in the yard.”

I turned and hurried back towards the doors. I could hear the boy humming again to himself as I left.

I emerged, blinking, into the sunlight.

“There you are!” a voice snapped. It was Nicholas, with a face like thunder. He swept his eyes over me and frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” I said gruffly. “It’s nothing.”

He looked at me for a long moment. “I know what it is. You’ve seen the horses, and now you’ve realized what you’ve got yourself into.”

“What? No! I—”

He carried on, regardless. “We can still tell people you’re hurt. It could be even better actually,” he said thoughtfully. “That way Stefan gets the full effect of you in the riding habit too. I knew it would be spectacular on you.”