Page 41 of The Cornish Mermaid

Loveday’s eyes twinkled somewhat conspiratorially. “I’ll be here for six then,” she said, with a grin. “To wake you up. But if anyone asks me where you is, I’ll be sayin’ you said not to be disturbed until after nine because you was tired.”

Morvoren nodded as Loveday slipped her night gown over her head. “Good plan.”

*

Loveday didn’t need to wake Morvoren. She was already up and putting on her stockings when her maid arrived, the curtains of her room wide open, and bright early morning sunlight streaming in like an invitation to be up and about. Loveday had brought hot chocolate and cold toast, but Morvoren didn’t mind and devoured it all, despite the bubbling excitement in her stomach.

Once Loveday had laced up her stays, Morvoren pulled on Kit’s old shirt and wriggled into the breeches. And after Loveday had tightened the back ties, Morvoren fastened the buttons around her knees. Then his old shoes went on, a little dull from their long incarceration, but the leather still supple to the touch. She finished her ensemble off with a waistcoat and tied her long hair out of the way with a black velvet ribbon.

Loveday pushed the cheval glass forward, and Morvoren was just admiring herself in it and deciding she made a creditable boy, when her bedroom door opened and Ysella came in. She too made a creditable, if extremely pretty, boy.

“I did wonder if you might have overslept,” she said. “But I see Loveday is privy to our adventure. I, too, had to take Martha into my confidence and swear her to secrecy.” She skipped across the room and stood beside Morvoren. “Do we not look like brothers?”

Morvoren smiled, Ysella’s boundless enthusiasm infectious. “We do indeed.”

Leaving Loveday to tidy the bedroom, they tiptoed down the wooden staircase, treading only at the edges where Ysella vowed they would make no telltale creaks. She led the way across the great hall and through a small side door toward the back of the house, into the area where the servants lived and worked.

Of course, they were all up. Ysella hadn’t taken into account that servants rise long before their masters to carry out all the chores the aristocracy don’t even know go on. So their secret plan was rumbled from the start. The servants all saw them, from Cook in her clean white apron down to the footmen sitting polishing boots and the maids with their baskets of kindling and coal they were carrying upstairs to light the fires, even though it was summer.

Ysella put her finger to her lips and winked at them, and to Morvoren’s surprise, she received conspiratorial winks in return. Perhaps they knew her of old, and she’d gone out through the kitchens in the early hours dressed as a boy before. They might not have been so forgiving if they’d known what unladylike activities she had in mind this time.

They made it to the stable yard at the back of the house unhindered. On the left, several wide doors stood open on various shiny horse drawn vehicles, while to the right, a pair of double-doors revealed interior looseboxes. And there were a lot of horses.

“Our carriage horses, Kit’s driving pair, the pony who pulls the mower, the kitchen cob, the hackney for the governess cart,” Ysella listed as they passed them.

Lochinvar and Sweetlip’s looseboxes were next to each other at one end, but Ysella passed them by, heading for a closed door just beyond. The tack room.

And of course, it was occupied. A groom was sitting cleaning tack at a table in the center. The coachman who’d driven them into Marlborough, now out of his dress uniform and just in mufti and shirt sleeves.

He jumped up and sketched a hurried bow, while tugging his tow-colored forelock at the same time. “Miss Ysella. Miss Lucas.” Despite their boy’s clothing, he clearly had no difficulty in recognizing them.

“Good morning, James,” Ysella said, her gaze going past him to the racks of saddles occupying the only harness-free wall. The sidesaddles they’d used up until now occupied two low-down racks.

“Shall I saddle your horses for you?” James asked, a little diffidently, his eyes roaming furtively over their breech-clad legs. Probably trying to work out how they planned to ride sidesaddle in these clothes.

Ysella nodded. “Yes please. But ordinary saddles. Men’s saddles.” She flashed a wide smile at Morvoren. “Miss Lucas is going to teach me to ride astride.”

Poor James. He was, after all, in the employ of Ysella’s brother, and not her, and was probably wondering how much trouble he was going to get into if Kit found out he’d aided and abetted this mischief. But Ysella could be very persuasive and, by the look in the young man’s eyes, she was winning. How could any man resist her charm?

“I tell you what,” Morvoren said, feeling sorry for him. “You just show me which saddles to use, and we’ll put them on ourselves. You can pretend you didn’t even see us this morning. How would that be?”

Ysella grabbed her arm. “Morvoren! I don’t know how to put a saddle on. We need James to do it for us.”

Morvoren shook her off. “You might not know how, but I do. Let James go off so he won’t get into any trouble. I’ll show you how to saddle and bridle your horse—it’s time you learned if you own one.” High time. The thought that she’d reached eighteen without ever having had the necessity to tack up a horse by herself came as a shock.

Ysella’s eyes flashed with excitement. “What an excellent idea. Off you go James. Perhaps you should polish the barouche in the coach house where you can’t possibly hear us when we ride out.”

With a look of relief, and after having briefly touched the two sets of tack that were needed, James scuttled away, hopefully not off to tell Kit what they were up to.

Morvoren took her set of tack and proceeded to demonstrate on Sweetlip how to saddle a horse. Then they fetched Ysella’s tack, and Morvoren supervised while she rather ham-fistedly tacked up Lochinvar. But once she’d done it, she beamed with satisfaction. “I should do this every time I ride him. It’s such fun. Why should our grooms have all the fun?”

Out in the stable yard, they made good use of the mounting block and in a moment or two were both sitting astride their horses, nearly ready to go. After a bit of stirrup adjustment and tightening of girths, Morvoren rode out of the stable yard into the welcoming early morning beside Ysella, who had a satisfied grin plastered to her face. This was going to be fun.

*

Kit

Kit stifled a yawn and tried to concentrate on what Sam Beauchamp was saying about the projected harvests on the various tenant farms. He knew he needed all this information, but it was too nice a morning to be looking at account books.