The following morning, the Young Lord awoke later than usual. No one had dared disturb his sleep after the events of the previous day.
"What time is it?"
Alex sat up in bed, feeling as though his limbs had turned to lead. Each movement was a small ordeal. Slowly, he rose and made his way to the washroom.
"I want to see Soul", he thought. "I'll grab something to eat and take her out for a ride."
The sun outside was shining — a rare visitor in London. It only deepened his desire to be anywhere but indoors.
Young Lords tied his hair back into its usual tail, threw on a loose white shirt, riding trousers, and high leather boots, then left the room without delay. As he glanced down at his muddied boots, he thought he really ought to clean them.
But as he stepped onto the grand staircase, Alex looked up — and stood as still as marble.
The Duke of Blackthorn himself was standing by the front door, flanked by Lord and Lady Carlston.
— "A good morning to you, Young Lord," the duke said with a smile.
— "Alex, darling, you're awake already? Go and change, then join us for breakfast," his mother called warmly.
A sharp pang of shame passed through him. The Duke looked immaculate — especially in contrast to Alex's own appearance. But the Young Lord had no intention of changing.
— "I fear that would take far too long," he murmured, descending the stairs, hoping to evade the inevitable meal.
— "You're quite right — our guest mustn't be kept waiting. Come, Duke, the table is ready."
To decline now would have been the height of discourtesy. His parents would not forgive it. Alex sighed quietly and, with a reluctant scowl, followed them into the dining room.
He picked at his breakfast, eyes fixed on his plate, saying as little as possible in the hope they would soon leave him to his day.
To Young Lord's surprise, his father seemed quite pleased — positively animated, in fact. He was deep in conversation about horses, explaining Duke's poor judgment in choosing a jockey. It was now clear that Lord Carlston had been the one to invite the Duke the day before. The knowledge did nothing to soothe Alex's irritation.
After breakfast, Lord Carlston invited Nathaniel to visit the stables — with the Young Lord in tow, of course.
Alex trailed behind like a third wheel, unneeded and unwanted. When his father began sharing the "secret recipe" for the horses' feed, Alex rolled his eyes and sighed once more.
The guest, however, seemed delighted by the conversation and paid no mind to the sullen youth behind them.
Their tour was interrupted by the butler, who reminded Lord Carlston of his appointment with the banker.
— "Good heavens, I quite forgot! A thousand apologies, Your Grace, I completely forgot! Ask Alex anything you wish — he knows as much as I do. I'm counting on you, my boy!"
He clapped his son on the shoulder and left the stable.
The Young Lord shot a glance at his unwelcome companion. The Duke was smiling again — his expression was the very embodiment of politeness. But Alex had grown tired of that smile.
As soon as his father was out of sight, Alex approached Soul and began stroking her nose.
An awkward silence followed.
Social decorum demanded he break it.
— "You would perhaps like to ride one of our horses, Your Grace?" he asked.
The Duke smiled. "I'm afraid I haven't ridden since I was a boy. I've quite forgotten how."
Alex turned to him in disbelief.
— "But how can you take such interest in horses if you don't ride?"
Nathaniel gave a quiet laugh.
— "You astonished me yesterday, truly. Allow me to repay you with a confession. The truth is… I'm afraid of horses. I hope you'll be merciful and keep it to yourself."
He stood with arms crossed, smiling as if it were only a jest.
Alex recalled having heard such gossip before — one of many rumours that swirled about the Duke. So it hadn't been a secret at all — merely a game he played.
Still, it surprised Young Lord. In his world, love for horses and fear of them could not coexist.
Before Alex realised what he was doing, he took the Duke by the hand and led him across the stable. He brought him to another horse — smaller, but noble in bearing.
She was a New Forest mare, the very picture of gentleness. Her smooth dark chestnut coat shimmered with a golden sheen in the sun. Her eyes, intelligent and expressive, held a trace of weariness. She must have been older than twenty.
— "This is Waterlily. You'll ride her today. First, you must stroke her nose. She'll only trust you if you do."
He cast a quick glance at his guest and saw a flicker of fear. Alex felt a flicker of satisfaction in return. For once, the Duke's polished smile had vanished.
Still, Nathaniel stepped forward and stroked the mare. When she leaned forward, hoping for a treat, he laughed.
As the Duke bonded with the horse, Alex began saddling her. When he finished, he gestured the Duke closer.
— "I hope you remember how to mount?" he asked with a smirk.
— "I'm afraid I do," Nathaniel replied.
They led Waterlily out of the stable.
— "Then go on," Alex said.
The Duke climbed into the saddle — slowly but steadily. But the moment he looked down from that new height, his face paled with fear.
— "I'll lead her by the reins. You just get used to the saddle again."
Alex walked slowly, occasionally glancing back at the Duke with a smile. He rather enjoyed seeing his guest in such a vulnerable state.
— "Now I'll let go of the reins, and you'll guide her yourself. Take her round in a circle, I'll be right back."
He dropped the reins and dashed back to the stable.
In an instant, he saddled Soul, he had no intention of wasting a single precious minute. Mounting her quickly, he rode to meet the Duke.
As he drew closer, he saw something unexpected — Nathaniel looked positively elated. Catching sight of Alex, he couldn't help but exclaim:
— "I can't believe it, I'm riding again!"
Alex burst out laughing, his irritation melted by the joy in the Duke's voice.
— "Let's ride together," he said, urging Soul toward the fields. The duke followed at a gentle pace.
For a while they rode in silence. From time to time, Alex glanced at his companion, who seemed wholly absorbed in the experience, like an eager schoolboy. It was almost endearing.
— "I learned to ride on Waterlily when I was a child. She's quite old now — calm and gentle. You can trust her completely."
— "I'm trying," the Duke replied, with a shy smile.
— "You're doing well," Alex said, surprising even himself. Seeing the man so frightened had softened him, if only for a moment.
— "Thank you, Young Lord. Truly — I'm astonished. I never thought I'd do this again."
— "I think you're ready to try a trot," Alex said, grinning. He signalled to Waterlily to speed up.
The Duke startled visibly, and Alex laughed again. Teasing him felt like a release — an outlet for all the annoyance that had built up inside him.
Suddenly, the image of a fallen ribbon flashed through his mind and colour rushed to his cheeks.
"This is my chance", Alex thought.
He nudged Soul into a trot, then, emboldened by a sudden impulse, stood upright on the saddle, balancing high above. It was a trick he'd spent years perfecting far from his father's disapproving eyes.
The Young Lord turned his head with a triumphant grin — but the smile vanished the moment he saw the Duke's face.
Nathaniel was white as a sheet, frozen in place. His fear was unmistakable.
Alex quickly sat down, stopped both horses, and looked at his companion — struck silent.
The Duke was breathing heavily, pale and stricken like a boy who'd seen a ghost.
A deep shame seized Alex.
— "I am truly sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," he murmured, full of remorse.
The Duke cast him a weary look and managed a thin smile.
— "It's all right…"
But Alex had never seen him look SO insincere.
— "I feel I owe you an explanation," Nathaniel said after a pause. "I used to love horses very much. I had an uncle, Uncle Edward. When I was about thirteen, I saw him break in a new horse. It threw him off and killed him. Right before my eyes. I… I didn't think I could ever ride again. That was my first brush with death, and it left me unable to reconcile such beauty as a horse with something so final."
Something twisted in Alex's chest. He felt an unbearable weight of guilt and cursed himself for the stunt.
They rode in silence for some time.
Alex searched for a way to mend what had been broken.
At last, he said quietly, "I promise I won't pull anything reckless in your presence again. Please, Your Grace… Don't let this stop you from riding. I'll train you gently on Waterlily. I swear it."
The Duke turned to look at him, his face full of quiet surprise.
— "I…" he began, but said no more.
— "Come Saturday, at eleven. I'll have Waterlily ready for you. For now, let's head home."
His heart beat fast. Even if it wasn't enough to make amends, it was something.
Nathaniel dismounted without a word and handed over the reins.
— "Saturday at eleven?" he repeated, voice quiet, uncertain. Perhaps still shaken.
— "Saturday at eleven," Alex confirmed.
When the Duke climbed into the carriage, Alex watched him go with the same look of guilt etched into his face. Only once he was back in his room did he fully grasp what had just occurred.
Of all things, regular meetings with the Duke had never been his intention — yet here he was, arranging them of his own accord.
"I had no choice. I owe him far too much. I've never seen a man look like that… To help him is my duty. Nothing more."
He clung to that explanation like a shield, hoping it might ease the tangle of emotions that would not leave him in peace over the days to come.