Author/Uploaded by Stevie Sparks
Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Stevie Sparks All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. ISBN: 979-8-377592-334 This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and inciden...
Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Stevie Sparks All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. ISBN: 979-8-377592-334 This book is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead is entirely coincidental. Cover design: Holly at Swoonies Romance Art Contents Language Trigger Warnings 1. Emmeline 2. Michael 3. Emmeline 4. Michael 5. Emmeline 6. Michael 7. Emmeline 8. Michael 9. Emmeline 10. Michael 11. Emmeline 12. Michael 13. Emmeline 14. Michael 15. Emmeline 16. Michael 17. Emmeline 18. Michael 19. Michael 20. Emmeline 21. Michael 22. Emmeline 23. Michael 24. Emmeline Further Reading About the Author Language Please note that this book is written by an English author about British characters. It's therefore written in UK English, which differs slightly from US English. Examples of their differences are: Realize is RealiseOrganize is OrganiseBehavior is BehaviourSpelled can be SpeltDreamed can be DreamtJewelry is JewelleryAnemia is AnaemiaTraveled is TravelledLicense can be LicenceWhiskey is Whisky There are obviously too many examples to catalogue (that's another one) them all here, but just to make you aware ahead of time. Trigger Warnings This book depicts or mentions war, spousal death, pregnancy, guns, knives, physical abuse, physical injuries, and CSA (reference to, not on the page), as well as a brief mention of war horses (and the injuries they suffered). 1 Emmeline“Are you quite, quite ready for your surprise?” Emmeline Fraser, the Duchess of Foxcotte, asked her daughter Dora, unable to stop a beam of excitement spreading across her face. The two of them approached the stables, following the long shadows that Scarlett Castle’s many turrets had cast upon the ground. “Because I can always take it back if you don’t want it.”“No, Mama!” Dora giggled thickly, her shoulder-length black hair shining in the hot, oppressive sunshine.“Very well, if you’re sure,” Emmeline gave a great gusty sigh of faux reluctance. The gravel crunched under their feet as they made their way towards the complex of buildings comprising the Foxcotte Stables. They’d dedicated much of the space to the Thoroughbred stud farm, one of the commercial enterprises attached to the dukedom’s estate. Her late husband, Theo, the 9th Duke of Foxcotte, had been particularly proud of its success.“Why am I wearing trousers, Mama?”She quirked a brow. “If I tell you, it shan’t be a surprise anymore. Do you like them?”“They feel strange to walk in.”“You can take them off when we get back home to the castle. Don’t worry.”“Is Uncle Michael home? Is that my surprise?” Dora asked hopefully, clutching her stubby hands to her chest.Emmeline bent down to her daughter’s level. “Uncle Michael will be home tomorrow. Grandmama had a telegram at luncheon saying he’d arrived at Liverpool, so he’s travelling down to Hampshire as we speak.” Her mother-in-law had almost combusted with happiness at the news her only remaining son was back in England.“Right now?”She nodded. “Right now.” In truth, her brother-in-law Michael, the 10th Duke of Foxcotte, would likely spend the day in a hotel after over-imbibing with his unit the night before. “I know he can’t wait to see you. At bedtime, shall I read you the last letter he sent again?”“Yes, please,” Dora answered. “Do you think he’ll bring me sweets?”“I know he’ll bring you sweets,” she laughed. “Now come—your present is this way.”Emmeline directed Dora towards the family’s personal stables. Recently, the worn grey stone had become dusty with the long drought, and she and Dora had regularly seen the stable hands taking the horses down to the River Blackwater to cool off in. “This one, sweetheart.”The cool air rushed over them as they entered, a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat of the day. The stable manager, a short, barrel-chested man called McNally, approached them as Emmeline’s eyes adjusted to the indoors. “Lady Foxcotte,” he took his flat cap off. “Lady Dora. Right on time.”“Lady Dora’s present has arrived, then?” Emmeline asked.McNally nodded, the lines in his weathered face creasing as he smiled. “Follow me.”Dora glanced hopefully up at the stable doors they walked past. “Where are all the horses?”“Out in the fields, Lady Dora,” McNally answered, coming to rest at the last stall. Movement came from within. “Here we are.”A moment later, a dappled grey horse poked its head out over the stable door. Dora cooed with delight. “Can I say hello?”“Course you can,” McNally replied, his voice gruff.It was Emmeline’s second time meeting the mare. She’d enlisted the help of her widowed sister-in-law, Annabelle, to find Dora the right horse. “Technically,” Annabelle had said immediately, “what you want is a pony.” A day later, Annabelle came back with the name and number of a breeder of Welsh Ponies. They had gone together to Merthyr Tydfil to visit the breeder, who’d looked vaguely familiar. Annabelle selected Queenie on account of Emmeline having just enough knowledge of horses to tell the front end from the back and call it a day.Emmeline bent down to pick up her daughter. “Do you remember I said I’d buy you your own horse once you were big enough to learn to ride?”Dora nodded ferociously, her pale blue eyes flicking between Emmeline and the new horse. The same colour as Theo’s had been.Smiling, Emmeline gave the horse a gentle, slightly uncertain pat. “This is your new horse. Her name is Queenie.” The news sent Dora into fits of infantile elation, flashing her milk teeth in a wide grin. “Can I ride her today?” she said excitedly.The stable master paused, presumably to untangle Dora’s speech. It was getting better, but only close family members could understand her all the time. “Just around the manège today,” McNally answered finally, opening both the door behind him and Queenie’s stable door. The path outside led to one of