White Horses. Joan Wolf

England studied the Duke of Newcastle any longer. The few Englishmen who were interested in learning to ride properly came to Papa when he was the king’s Master of the Horse.”

      Leo was annoyed. It was one thing for him to think his countrymen were not the best riders, but it was quite another to hear the same opinion from foreigners. “It takes a great deal of skill to ride a horse cross country,” he said stiffly.

      Gerard said, “It is easy to gallop a horse cross country. All you need is balance. Watch Gabrielle ride tomorrow, then you will see what real horsemanship is.”

      Gabrielle smiled at Gerard. “Thank you, Gerard,” she said.

      Luc said scornfully, “However did you come to marry such a barbarian? Your father must be turning in his grave.”

      Barbarian? Leo was outraged.

      Gabrielle flushed. “Leo is not a barbarian,” she said.

      Leo did not find her defense overly enthusiastic.

      Jeanne gave him a warm smile. “Don’t pay any attention to Luc, Leo. He is just jealous because you married Gabrielle.”

      “Not jealous, Jeanne—amazed,” Luc said sarcastically.

      Everything in Leo wanted to give this bunch of common people an icy dressing down. But he couldn’t do it; it would alienate them and would make them wary of him. He forced a smile to his face. “Talk to me tomorrow, after I have seen your horses perform.”

      “Good idea,” Gabrielle said briskly. She stood up. “I am ready to go back to the hotel, Leo.”

      He stood up also. He was really getting tired of her habit of issuing orders to him. It was a good thing she was so pretty, he thought, otherwise this assignment would be miserable.

      They walked back to the hotel in silence. The only ones left in the lounge were the Maroni brothers, who were still playing cards. Gabrielle bade them good-night and started toward the stairs.

      “I am just going to step out to the stable yard to check the wagons,” Leo told her quietly.

      She nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”

      The stable yard was quiet. The moonlight illuminated the two wagons with the white horses painted on their sides. Leo pulled on the wagon doors, content that they were securely locked.

      Christ, but I wish this journey was over, Leo thought. It stretched out before him like an eon of time. But it was only four weeks. Four weeks wasn’t that long, Leo thought. Then the gold would be delivered and he would be free to rejoin his regiment. He looked up to the sky at the full moon. The same moon was shining on his compatriots in winter quarters in Portugal, he thought.

      Four weeks, and he would be able to return to them.

      He went back inside to rejoin Gabrielle, who was waiting in the lounge. Together they mounted the stairs to their bedroom.

      Another plain, serviceable room, Leo thought as he walked in through the door after Gabrielle. It was furnished with one bed, one wardrobe, a bedside table with a lamp and another table with a basin of water. The floor was wide wooden planks with a small, thin rug just inside the door. Colette immediately jumped on the bed and established herself at the foot.

      The floor looked very hard, Leo thought with discouragement.

      “We will do the same as we did last night,” Gabrielle said. “I will tell you when you can turn around.”

      Leo turned away and fished his nightshirt out of his bag, which lay on the floor, and proceeded to take off his boots. Behind him he could hear the sounds Gabrielle made as she took off her own clothes, and he tried heroically not to envision how she would look naked. Her waist had been so slim and supple when he grasped it this evening….

      Stop, he thought.

      But it had been a long time since he had had a woman. Too long, he thought. That’s why he was reacting to this circus girl, he reasoned.

      “All right,” Gabrielle said, and he turned around. She was wearing the same long nightgown as the night before, and her hair was loose around her shoulders and down her back. She had a brush in her hand, and as he watched she went over to the bed, sat on the edge of it and began to brush her hair.

      He watched, fascinated, as the silken strands slid through the brush. “You have beautiful hair.” The words were out before he could stop them.

      “Thank you,” she said, clearly surprised.

      He cleared his throat. “Well, if you will lend me a blanket, I will bunk down on this rug.”

      She stopped brushing and looked at him. “You don’t have to do that. You can share the bed with me—as long as you keep to your side.”

      He stared at her in astonishment. “Are you sure?”

      “I am sure, but you must understand, Leo, that I am not inviting you to take liberties with me. I am simply allowing you to have a comfortable place to sleep.” She looked at the rug. “That rug doesn’t look too clean.”

      He looked at the bed. It was an ordinary double bed, the kind that a married couple would share comfortably. But they were not a married couple. He thought about what it would mean to lie so close beside her.

      I might get more sleep on the floor.

      But the rug definitely did look dirty. And the floor looked hard.

      “All right,” he said. “Thank you.”

      She nodded. “Is there a side that you particularly like? André always had to sleep on the left side of the bed.”

      “No,” he said. “Either side is fine with me.”

      “Bon. You can have the left side, then. I am used to having the right.”

      He walked barefoot to the bed, feeling huge in his white nightshirt. She looked so delicate and so beautiful as she sat there brushing her hair.

      He got in under the covers and watched as she finished brushing and took a ribbon and tied her hair at the nape of her neck. She stood up, folded back the covers and slipped into bed beside him.

      “This is awkward, no?” she asked.

      “Very awkward,” he replied. He had to curl his legs because the dog took up the bottom of the bed.

      “I am sorry that we seemed to denigrate your countrymen tonight,” she said. “We of the Robichon circus tend to be very proud of the quality of our riding.”

      “So I gathered,” he said. “This disguise of you being my husband is very difficult,” she said. “You saw tonight how astonished everyone was that I would marry a man who is not a good rider.”

      Leo sat up. “Wait a minute. Who said I wasn’t a good rider?”

      She looked up at him. “I don’t mean to insult you, Leo….”

      “Well you do insult me,” he said hotly. “I’ll have you know that I am a bloody good rider. You and your friends may know some circus tricks that I don’t know, but…”

      She also sat bolt upright. “Circus tricks! I am not talking about circus tricks! I’ll bet you can’t even ride a horse in shoulder-in.”

      “What the hell is shoulder-in?”

      “Hah!” she cried. “Shoulder-in is the most basic training tool of all classical riding. And you haven’t even heard of it!”

      Why am I even arguing with this girl? He forced himself to calm down. “This is pointless,” he said. “We should get some sleep.”

      “Certainly,” she said. “There is no point in arguing with you. You are too ignorant.”

      It took all his discipline not to reply.

      “Turn out the light,” she said, then turned her back on him,