An Officer in the Stables
The stables were freshly mucked out, clean hay put down for the animals, and Joachim inspected a mended stall door with a critical eye as he waited for James Thomas to appear. He'd scheduled this meeting for an early time, as the day was promising to be hot and he wished to spend most of it indoors, but at the moment he was quietly enjoying the smell of alfalfa as he lingered near the entryway. The cane was held loosely in his left hand, but he was limping less today. The physician he'd visited had offered a good prognosis and words of encouragement. He'd also provided a bottle of laudanum to assist with the sleeplessness, for which the major was grateful.
Still, it seemed as if he'd require a horse while he was in the city, as the injured limb still twinged far too often to be relied upon for long periods of walking. It was difficult not to become impatient with himself over it, this infirmity. He was assuaging his annoyance with the reminder of how much he'd missed riding since being put on leave. He'd trained Stormdancer, the animal who had died during the attack on his party, on his own, and although it would not be the same with a new mount, at this point even an echo of better times would suffice.
Joachim adjusted the cuff of his shirtsleeve, glanced at his pocket watch. He kept waiting for the point when he would get used to civilian clothes again.
At the end of the stables, there was a fuss as two people entered. A female voice admonished, "Honestly, Jacob, had I known James would be gone for the week, I would've brought my things. These little emergencies of his are ridiculous!" Elspeth's riding habit was long and brown, the skirt reaching her ankles, so that just her boots showed beneath the hem. Underneath, she wore a starched petticoat and little breeches. The end result was that she was quite warm, even at this ungodly hour. A hat with an ostrich feather was pinned to her hair.
"Please, Madam--"
"No, no... I'll hear none of it." She fiddled with her kid gloves and hurried along the path. "I don't know why you defend him. It isn't as if he hired you! Besides, his little emergency is nothing but an excuse to sow his oats, whenever that girl snaps her fingers."
"Ms. Fry--"
"Well, it's true!" She reddened at her ribald comment. Oh, to be one of those women who said such things without ruffling her own feathers! "Mr. Fry never would've conducted business in such a way. Well, of course he wouldn't, he was married." She shook her head. "But... nevermind. When is the buyer due to arrive?"
"That's just what I was saying." Jacob lifted an arm and pointed at the gentleman. "He's already here."
"Good morning, Madam," Joachim said, having already turned in the direction of the commotion because of the female voice, and one eyebrow arched as he took in the prim clothing style and the feather in her hat. He coughed into his hand, feeling the threat of a smile buried under his usual stoic demeanor. To smile might be an insult to the lady, but he could sense his own mirth nonetheless. Sobering his expression into a polite blankness, he inclined his head in her direction.
"I take it Mr. Thomas is unavailable," he deadpanned, and Jacob took a tiny step away from the woman as though she might produce a hatpin and jab him with it. "I hope that my arrival has not inconvenienced you."
Elspeth came up short and stared at the prospective buyer. "Oh... there you are." If only the dirt underfoot would open up and swallow her whole. She patted the collar of her riding habit and cleared her throat. "Thank you, Jacob, you may return to your work." The gentleman's boots held avid interest for her, if for no other reason than allowing her time to recover. She became acutely aware of perspiration at her hairline and reached back to scratch her neck.
In the next moment, she appeared to have recovered. "My brother is out of town on... errands," she said. Yes, busily delivering his seed wherever it pleased him. The thought scorched her cheeks further. "I'm Ms. Elspeth Fry. James took over the business when my husband passed away, but I can assure you, I'm perfectly capable of tending to his affairs." Embarrassed not to know his name, she simply waited for a proper introduction.
"Joachim Zahavi. And I am quite sure your abilities are more than adequate."
He was uncertain if he should offer her his hand or not. Did Englishwomen shake hands with men they had just met? Foreign men they had just met? He finally extended one brown-fingered hand in her direction a bit hesitantly, very conscious of the possibility of embarrassing himself and her. With the wives of other officers it had been an easy matter since he'd known their husbands; he was at a loss at the prospect of dealing with a female in a business matter.
"You are an experienced horsewoman? I have heard many good things about this establishment in my brief time in the city. The military personnel I have encountered speak well of your late husband. You have my condolences."
"Thank you," she said, taking his hand. My, he had a stiff bearing. Elspeth had rarely seen men stand at such posture. Unless, of course, they were in the military and she assumed he had served, based on his acquaintance with other soldiers. For what army, she was unsure, for he looked decidedly un-English. "I am accomplished." She thought about explaining the depth of her knowledge, and how she came by it, but decided that was too defensive and ought not to be put on the table unless requested.
"I am pleased you've heard such good things." At least there was a relief. For all his irresponsibility when it came to the fairer sex, her brother had a sound head for business affairs. "Have you been in London long, Mister... Zahavi?" She hoped she had pronounced it properly.
"Not for very long. I have come from Delhi to seek the care of a physician. My leg is..." Joachim looked down at the cane with a frown, then lifted his gaze back to Ms. Fry's face. ".....not quite up to snuff, as they say."
Farther inside the stable, one of the horses made a nickering sound in its stall, and the soldier looked that way in hopes of catching a glimpse of the animal. Stormdancer had been a beautiful horse, dark-coated with a star on his forehead. The men who discovered him had found him weeping while still trapped under his mount's weight, and they'd assumed it was shock and pain from the assault, but he'd been crying for the death of a friend. The memory made the frown deepen temporarily, and he found the emotional door and closed it before anything could escape from behind it. He was safe here, and the day was warm and due to be bright once the rest of the cloud cover burned off. There were no monsters in this place.
"You have had a good season selling-wise?" he inquired. "With summer almost over buyers must be holding onto their purse-strings rather tightly. How is the stock you have on hand?"
Mr. Zahavi's question brought Elspeth's eyes up from his wounded leg.
Good Lord, had they been having a good season? Elspeth chewed her lip and wondered when last she had reviewed the books with James, who was the jobmaster. It was two months' past, at minimum. Moving onto the ship had removed her from the daily goings-on of the stables and while she knew the stock, she did not know the selling history.
"Well," she said, "I suppose it depends upon what you mean." Having seen his curiosity kindled, she walked deeper into the stables so that he might come alongside. "We have lost some business to North Metropolitan Tramways, which has over 3,000 horses, if you can imagine it! But only our rental of job-horses is affected, and we are still able to hold our own. We are lucky to also have animals of superior breeding for private buyers such as yourself."
She stopped outside a stall. "This one is five years old."
Joachim studied the horse with the practiced eye of someone who knew well-bred animals when he saw them. In the field, a good horse was as important an asset as a properly cleaned rifle, and both could save your life in an emergency. The horse in question jutted his head over the top of the low stall door, and the major rested one hand on the side of the steed's muscular neck. Dark fingers contrasted sharply with the white hide, and the Indian's mouth quirked where Ms. Fry couldn't see it.
"Is he geld--has he bred?" He clamped his teeth together around the more crude phrasing before it could completely escape into the conversation, gave the horse's neck a soothing pat. Horsemen - and some women - tended to be earthy in their behavior around each other, especially in regards to mating practices and such, but he felt that he should not speak to this woman in such a fashion. He looked at the horse's visible eye, which gazed back at him with a calm placidity.
"I presume you have records of what horses have either foaled or sired, yes?"
"Yes, we do. And no, he has not bred, nor will he have the opportunity, I'm afraid." Elspeth reached up and stroked the horse's velvety nose, giving it a consolatory pat. "Much to his dismay," she added. "Mr. Fry waited upwards of sixteen months for the gelding. I don't believe he intended it for this horse, but he developed quite a disposition. He became overly preoccupied with the mares in the stable. On one occasion, he went through a fence to get to one. I suppose there's something to be said for persistence."
Elspeth removed her hand to let Mr. Zahavi study the horse. "The delay allowed his muscles to develop gorgeously. He's strong, as well, and much less likely to unseat you when a mare canters by." She clasped her hands by her skirt. "Are you interested in a breeding stallion?"
"I do not know as yet. My posting in India awaits my possible return, and any horse I purchase would have to make the journey back with me. It is important to consider the animal's well-being, as ship travel can be detrimental to their health."
The gelding's mane was thick, and Joachim tangled his fingers in it for a moment before releasing the coarse strands. "Would you have a younger animal?" he inquired. "One who has not developed, as you say, a disposition? I find that it is easier to train a horse that has yet to mature and become stubborn."
Elspeth nodded. "Yes, of course. If you'll follow me?" After a departing stroke of the horse's nose, she led Mr. Zahavi across the stable, to where a copper-colored horse swished his tail as he pushed his nose into his oats. At the stall, her skirts brushed against the rough wood, but she didn't seem to mind. Privately, she hoped she ruined the riding habit so she wouldn't have to wear it again in this ridiculous heat. She wiped her temple with a glove. "This chestnut is just over two years. A stallion," she added. "You'd have a few months to make up your mind if you want to geld him." She hooked a hand over the gate. "I confess I haven't spent much time with this one, so I don't know much about his temperament. I could call on one of the stable hands to speak with you, or you are welcome to ride him, if you'd like."
Joachim put both hands on the stall door, fingers overlapping into the horse's living space. The nosebag moved as the animal chewed, the crunch of oats audible through the canvas. He'd always had an affinity for horses, perhaps seeing a kindred spirit in animals who were harnessed for purposes beyond their control. He carefully reached over the barrier, touched the side of the beast's neck. "Hello, friend." A soft chuffing was heard within the confines of the bag, and the major smiled a little, a strangely gentle expression given his otherwise rigid bearing.
"I believe I can fore-go the ride," he told Ms. Fry. "I would have to give you a draft from my bank, as I do not travel with cash. Do you often do business with foreigners?"
The care he showed the young horse surprised her. Often, the buyers who came to Fry's treated them as disposable commodities, which had never set well with her. Though she was not the most affectionate of women, she respected the beauty and grace of the animals, and for some reason -- perhaps it was a simple matter of her proficiency -- they took to her. She felt herself warm to the officer, the beginnings of a smile on her face, but he went back to discussing business affairs so quickly. Elspeth sobered. "Not often, but we have."
She examined her gloves. "Since you've brought up not being native, I will ask a question in hopes of satisfying my curiosity, but if it's an intrusion, please feel free to disregard it. Is it your work with the military that brings you to London on temporary assignment?"
"No, it...it is quite all right. I am on leave from the military at the moment. My superiors believed that it was in my best interests to allow my leg to heal, even if it was obviously going to take time. I am, to borrow a phrase, a man of leisure at the moment."
Joachim lifted the cane from the floor of the stable as if he needed an example of why he should not be in uniform still, then added, "I suppose I am also considering my options. I have never seen London until now. Fascinating city. Have you always lived here?"
He was not proficient at this, making conversation with a woman, and yet he did not mind at the moment. The ill temper of the previous evening had vanished without a trace, and the presence of the horses was soothing. "I have quite enjoyed what little I have seen so far."
"I see." She looked at the cane. The way he held it reminded her of a person picking up a kitchen mouse by its tail. Out of politeness, she gave it only the briefest inspection before saying, "I've lived here all my life. I've never been abroad. But I should like to. I think... I think that someday soon, I will get the chance. For all the sadness it brought, the end of my marriage has allowed me to consider a life of more adventure."
Elspeth peeled off her gloves and tucked them in a pocket of her habit. The air felt good on her skin; Many men wouldn't understand what a simple joy it was to only wear the strictly necessary clothing. Even in ball gowns with short sleeves, there were gloves to wear, and layers upon layers of garments to dress in, until a woman felt like an extravagantly wrapped gift.
She picked up a piece of straw.
His eyes dropped to her hands, noted the slender fingers. "I should imagine that being married is quite the adventure," he said slowly, and then added, "I have yet to attempt it, but from the outside it seems as arduous as any campaign I've been on."
Did he go too far? She was obviously well-bred, and he was everything she'd likely been told to beware of. Even in uniform, he'd never be more than a dirty half-breed to some, and he was wary of causing offense. He tried a smile, was relieved that it felt natural. "India has beautiful summers," he offered. "It is dustier than England, but if a change is what you want, it would perhaps be a good start."
To her own surprise, Elspeth laughed, a high and thin sound, as if it was rarely employed. "Your description of marriage as arduous is apt, Mr. Zahavi." It was improper for her to admit so to a gentleman, but of all the societal rules she accepted, even believed in, marriage was the one that stuck in her craw. "And we certainly campaign for it, don't we? It is what's expected. Especially for women." She split the piece of hay and watched with a close eye as she peeled it. "After all, we wouldn't want to be a burden to our families."
The only good thing about becoming a social misfit was that it let her cast off the whole rigmarole, if she wanted. Instead, since her husband's death, Elspeth had become more obsessed with what was proper, at least in terms of dress and behavior. It reduced the opportunity for ridicule and helped her be accepted into the Inquisition amongst the aristocrats. However, her opinions remained unfettered.
"I was a lucky young woman. Mr. Fry and I did not have a storied romance, but we enjoyed a peaceable marriage. As a consequence, my thirst for adventure remains intact." Realizing she had said much, she gave a polite smile and dropped the straw. "Perhaps I will visit India on your recommendation."
A shred of straw brushed against the leg of Joachim's trousers, and he looked down to watch it flutter the rest of the way to the floor. She'd become prettier when she laughed, the solemn features becoming softer, and he felt a wider smile tugging at the corners of his mouth in response to it. Clearly, his leg was the only part of him that was damaged; his eyes were not.
"To marry for love is its own battlefield, Ms. Fry," he opined, thinking of his mother. If Frederick had offered, she would likely have wed him, but it would have involved his father divorcing Georgina, the mother of his legitimate children. Though others had shown interest, she had wanted no other man. The price of love, he supposed. "The terrain is simply different, and the traps more subtle."
He was truly saying too much, and the major cleared his throat with some embarrassment. "Forgive me, I speak too freely. I am sure that your husband was a fine man."
"He was," she said, then tipped her head. "A bit ridiculous at times, too... but a good man." Had he not been so ridiculous, he might not have gotten himself wolf-bitten, but she kept that to herself. On the other thing Mr. Zahavi mentioned, Elspeth thought, trying to determine why marrying for love would be a battlefield.
"Romance is a messy thing," she reasoned. "I had a girlhood friend who was unlucky in love. She had a seemingly endless supply of tears. Really! There are wells with less water. After witnessing that, I presumed it was better to skip the ordeal entirely. I cannot imagine much worse than to be taken up in a flight of fancy and discover that the man was a poor match, or worse, have it determined that I was unsuitable."
She looked up as a bird flew into the stables, its wings a pitter-patter in the eaves above them.
He found himself looking for something else to say, even if it would be inconsequential. If Elspeth had never been out of England, it was likely that she knew very little of the difficulties he faced in the larger world. If she knew his father was white, how quickly would this conversation come to an end?
"You do not seek to re-marry, then?" It was risky to ask such a thing, but if she was not a romantic there was a chance that she would not be offended. He managed another fairly relaxed smile, leaned against the door of the stall to take some of the weight off of his knee. "Should that impede whatever adventures might wander across your path?"
Elspeth shrugged. "I don't know," she said, sounding as if she hadn't thought much about it, and truly she had not. Her own budding career -- so strange for a woman to have one -- and the family business meant she needn't worry about remarrying unless she wanted to. Her hand fiddled with a piece of tackle on the wall. She smoothed her thumb over a leather strap. "I am not destitute, if that's what you mean." She laughed. "I am in much better circumstances than many widows, and I did not have children. I suppose I will only get married if I want to, or if I grow bored."
She realized how much she spoke about herself and turned on him, almost offensively. "What about you, Mr. Zahavi? Do you have a family?"
"I...er..." It was such an abrupt subject change that Joachim was left blinking in the wake of it, and then he gathered his wits to form a reply. She was a sharp-minded woman, this Ms. Fry, and he imagined that a less clever man would be quite intimidated by her. "My mother is in London at this time," he said. "She decided that she should be on hand to assist in my recovery, so she booked ship's passage before I left Delhi to make arrangements for herself."
The major looked down at the hard-packed dirt of the stable floor. Frederick was more difficult to explain, but that was ever the case. "I have been granted permission to live in an apartment of...a family friend until I make up my mind about returning to active duty. I should like to return to the field, of course, but there might be the need for more medical care. I do not know what the outcome will be."
Doubtless she would inquire about his father now, and he was unsure of how he should respond. It was so galling to have to lie, to make up stories at his age. But he knew from long experience that she was unlikely to understand. Better to concoct a harmless fiction than tell her a truth that even he often found hard to abide by. "No siblings, though. I grew up by myself."
She nodded in understanding of his predicament.
Elspeth might not have asked about his father, but when Mr. Zahavi mentioned each family member except him, her curiosity was piqued in a roundabout way. "Your mother was allowed to leave her household responsibilities and travel? Your father... he permitted it, I mean?" She averted her eyes to the chestnut horse and watched its tail swish at a fly. "Forgive me if that question is odd. I hadn't thought women in India enjoyed such freedom, but my knowledge is small, to be sure."
There were choices here, and none of them were particularly attractive to him. Joachim watched as the fly landed for a moment on the horse's rump, then flew away again. One finger tapped against the top of the stable door. She had asked him outright, after all.
"My father was here to greet me when I arrived. He and Mother do not often travel together, as he has military duties of his own to see to. They are not...they do not reside in the same household." It was as far as he could go, likely as far as he had ever gone explaining his particular situation to a woman, and the major made himself establish eye contact as he spoke. He was not a boy anymore, and if he was to find some sort of footing in a new place, the telling of stories should stop. "I should imagine Mother quite enjoys the city as well."
"Oh, I see." Elspeth swallowed.
There was a curse on women, she thought, that made them ask questions that ought to be avoided. Yet even as she thought that, her curiosity sparked a new set of questions. Had his parents divorced? Had they never married at all? Laid against the backdrop of Mr. Zahavi's views on marrying for love, it created an intriguing puzzle, but wild horses could not have pulled another question from her. "I'm sorry to have pried into a sensitive subject." She smoothed her skirts.
The Elspeth of younger years wouldn't have mentioned it again, or taken the conversation any further. However, being a woman whose marriage had gone 'sour', so to speak, she felt sympathy for a woman who probably garnered more stares and whispers. She wet her lips. "If your mother would like any advice about the city... places to shop, for instance... please tell her I would be happy to oblige."
Joachim smiled, and this time the smile was genuine. That she understood was obvious, but he appreciated the offer on behalf of his mother. "You are most kind, Ms. Fry," he said, inclining his head as a gesture of respect. The horse made a noise as if in agreement, and the officer carefully removed the nosebag from the animal's head. Arranging for stabling and upkeep would be the next thing on his agenda.
"If it wouldn't trouble you, I should like to spend some more time with the horse before the purchase is complete. It is important to establish a connection with a companion animal, to learn their temperament and have them learn yours." He patted the colt's neck lightly, the gesture obviously one that had long been used in a calming fashion. "Would it be an inconvenience to schedule something?"
"Not at all," she assured. Though facing the officer, Elspeth's eyes cut sideways and glimpsed his brown hands tending to the animal. There was something fascinating about it, and how the horse's muscles rippled beneath its flesh. She felt her stomach dip and briefly put a palm to it.
"Um." She frowned at his shoes.
When she picked her head up, Elspeth's face was clear, her eyes sharp. "I'm sure we can accommodate your schedule. James won't return before the week is out, but I can let our men know to expect you." She folded her arms in the thick riding habit. God, it was oppressively hot. As soon as she left the stable, Elspeth would march straight into the kitchen, strip down to her underthings, and pour a bucket of water on herself.
He looked down at his shoes when she did, managed not to check the soles. Had he stepped in something? The stable appeared freshly seen to, but one could never tell. When Ms. Fry spoke again, he snapped his attention back to her, his expression attentive.
"Thank you for that," he said. "When I was still on active duty, some of my fellow soldiers would hire a man to see to the training of their horses, but doing it oneself assures that you will not be thrown from the saddle at the first opportunity. Or it at least cuts down on the likelihood of it." He chuckled a bit, reminded of the times as a younger man when he had found himself suddenly on his backside, the horse looking down at him with something like contempt. "I am pleased to find that the talk of this place has not been exaggerated."
Oh, she quite remembered that! When learning to ride on her eldest brother's horse, Elspeth found herself flung on her back many times. Such a humbling thing it was to watch one's own feet flying in the air. Remembering, she gave a smile that was tiny and prim. "And I am pleased that you think so."
Elspeth pulled the gloves from her pockets. She pinched the different fingers, sifting them like a set of keys on a ring. "Well... Jacob can assist you with anything else you may need. I shall leave you to it." She gestured to the horse. Then, when a curtsy would've suited, she reached for Mr. Zahavi's hand, as her brother would have done.
He took her hand more readily this time, tanned fingers closing over paler ones. In other circumstances he'd have kissed the back of it, but having avoided embarrassment thus far, he didn't wish to over-step. Instead he shook it politely before releasing it, letting himself wonder briefly if he might not see her again.
"I bid you a good day, Ms. Fry, and my apologies for any confusion about my arrival. I haven't quite adjusted to everything yet."
He had an active man's hands, she noticed, somewhere between the soft palm of her father the clerk and the chaffing callouses of her late husband. What roughened a soldier's hands? Was it the weapons and supplies they carried, the reigns of horses in their hands, or something else? Having never known one personally, outside a distant acquaintance with a few who had joined the Inquisition, Elspeth had no other guesses. Her hands had been feverishly protected in gloves since she joined.
"There is nothing to apologize for," she said. Elspeth ducked her chin in deference to the gentleman. "Good day, Mr. Zahavi."
She headed for the sunlight at the end of the stable.