Chapter 5

Boorum Academy

Edward Venerable was dead. Mathew was stunned. He had seemed so healthy. My father had mentioned the funeral date and I intended to be there no matter what. The immediate cause of death was pnemonia but that was frequently a side-effect of a multitude of illnesses. Fortunately, the funeral was on a Sunday, so it wouldn't inconvenience my students to have me gone.

When I arrived at the church, I met my father in the back rows reserved for the hired-help. Edward was a well-liked man and there were many people attending the funeral. I could only stay for the church service and not the burial. The last coach for Boorum was the critical part. Once the eulogies were over, a receiving line was set up, and I went through the line to give my condolences to the family. Elizabeth recognized me and gave me a sad smile, while Adam and Jennifer kept their heads down and didn't want to look at anyone. But they did know that I had come for the service.

When it was over, I spoke again with my father and then left immediately to return to Boorum Academy.

Lord Garth's Manor

Millicent's mother was long gone, she barely remembered her. Her father, Lord Garth, was off in Europe on government business. She was nineteen now. Everyone told her she was beautiful and she could almost believe it. The mirrors in her room were certainly complimentary and she did wear the finest clothes. She had her pick of the men in her age-range and class for escorts. What else could most young women ask for?

She had been to the continent countless times with her father and once as a child with her mother. Three different, quite rich young men had asked for her hand in marriage. She had never gotten excited enough about them to allow them to talk to her father about it. They had all been boring, insipid and totally predictable. She knew what they were going to say before they did. At her debutante ball last year, every single rich boy in England who was looking for a wife showed up. She was bored to tears. She didn't have a life and they didn't either. Afterwards, she had told her father that she would wait for a while before thinking seriously about marriage.

School was never a challenge so she had done poorly. Of course, a Lord's daughter didn't fail at anything. And, she knew that. Her word was taken as gospel, at least until recently. But that was before she almost died. Lord's daughters do not die at fox hunts. But her life had almost gone to hell very quickly that particular day. She started the disaster herself by insisted on taking the lively, young horse to ride. The hunt had gone badly right from the start. The horse wasn't ready, and she wasn't a good enough jumper to realize it. All the stable help at the manor and the grooms kept complimenting her on her good form and riding skills, except the horse hadn't been listening to the constant praise.

The horse had been barely manageable over the first jump so she slowed down to relax him. The horse wasn't having any of it. He was more excited than her about the hunt. Then, as slow as she was going, the horse spooked at a rabbit and took off at full speed toward the next fence. At that moment she knew she was going to die. It was a certainty. The horse refused any direction other than straight at the next fence. She had just wanted off of it and she wanted to live. She knew she wasn't going to get either. She thought sliding off the horse was her only chance, even if it meant getting kicked. She panicked completely and tried to get off but that fear was as bad as the fear of going over the jump with an out-of-control horse.

Her foot had left the stirrup and she was loose atop an insane horse. Even now her cheeks flamed when she remembered pissing her pants during those last few surges to the fence. Then up and up. Her legs had turned to jelly and she was loose from the saddle and heading down to sure death. Then something snatched her and threw her over a saddle.

In the space of a handful of seconds she had panicked, pissed her pants, died, been saved, had a strange hand on her pussy and fainted.

She had briefly remembered her uncle Robert helping her to the ground. Then he was gone. She had been carried on a stretcher back to her home. For days she had stayed in her room. The doctors had come and pronounced her well. Just the thought of getting back on a horse would send her back to bed and the comfort of sleep.

Weeks had gone by and she was finally starting to feel near normal again. She still didn't look towards the stables, preferring the tranquilizing comfort of staying inside. Her father, whenever he was home, asked her what happened. She had to tell him something. When she did tell him she left out all the things that were embarrassing to her except one. That one thing had to be why the accident occurred. So, her story became: she was jumping the horse well but was crowded at a fence by another rider. He had groped her and tried to pull her from her horse causing the accident.

"... and that is all I have been able to remember, Daddy."

And that was all it took to get Lord Garth angry. He was a local magistrate as well as a government representative. He was also a member of the House of Lords. He knew how to get information. Three days later she had been taken to some place called Venerable Hall. She had thought the whole affair would be forgotten but now she was going to have to face someone with her lies. Without telling the truth, she made her father promise that he would be lenient on whoever had done it.

"Daddy, it could have been accidental."

She had stood there in the parlor, both ashamed and fascinated. It had been a groom's son who had saved her, the manor's stable helper. He sounded educated and he wasn't cowed by her father's bombast at all. The boy, and he was very handsome from the brief look she had given him, explained everything that had happened including the innocent grope. He had only left out her worst embarrassment. When his hand had gone up her dress as he was pulling her from the horse, she had already pissed her pants in fear. He hadn't mentioned it at all.

All the way home her father railed about the futility of educating peasants. It only caused insolence and lying. And, that father of his had been willing to back his son, against the word of a Lord's daughter, in an obviously blatant lie. Well, he was going to have them investigated. He wasn't through with that trash yet.

Millicent barely heard him on the way back, she realized that she was interested in a young man for the first time she could remember and he was a poor but educated commoner.

Several weeks later, Millicent picked up the mail that the butler had left on her father's desk and idly thumbed through it. Her father was off again to Europe. Still something for the government. Her eyes were attracted to an unusual return address, Morris Detective Services, Limited. Then, she remembered her father's threat of investigating that poor boy and his father. She still hadn't developed a scheme that would bring her in contact with him again. She doubted that he would again go on a fox hunt. But she certainly remembered his name from that introduction at Venerable Hall, something or other Willets. She just had to look in the thick envelope.

Fortunately, it wasn't stuck too well, so she was able to work the flap up. She could glue it down later. But she didn't want to do it in her father's office do she took it to her bedroom to read. Even the thought of sneaking around was exciting her. New thoughts and new everything.

She pulled out the thick packet and read the cover letter from the detectives.

Morris Detective Services, Ltd. 1378 Piccadilly Circus London, England

Dear Lord Garth: As you had requested, we dispatched two teams of investigators. One team (A) researched the Willets' lineage for the last 100 years up to the present gathering facts and other government data. Team (B) function was surveillance for the last month on both the father and son, William and Mathew, plus any rumors and other unsubstantiated inflammatory information that was available. Most of the packet contains government data, copies of birth certificates, etc. However, in brief, our surveillance found nothing on the father. The son, however, currently enrolled as a student at Boorum Academy, is having two affairs. Details are in the surveillance packet. Research into the past of William Willets showed a single instance of strange behavior. He quit his job as a high-paid professor at the Minhurst School for Ladies to take various low level jobs, including the current one. There are no facts available and no police reports of wrong doing, but the rumors within the Constable Corp. are rampant. The father appears to be a pervert who likes young girls and does things to them that are considered outside of the society norm. As a side note, the boy, from actual observation through a window, indulges in the same activities but with markedly older females. Details are in the folder. If we can be of any further assistance, we are available. Your Servant, R.S.Morris

Since she was most interested in the boy, Mathew, she went to the appropriate appendix. He was finishing his first year at Boorum with honors, second in his class. Let's see, he was a champion jumper and good at dressage. National class in both. And he was to be an instructor in a new class for amateur horsemanship. A summer class. Boorum was near Daring Cross where one of her aunts lived.

Millicent heard the crunch of the gravel in the drive and quickly went to the window. Her father was home and the first thing he always did was read his mail. She quickly re-glued the package shut and dropped it on his desk on the way to greet him. Too bad she didn't have time to find out about the boy's affairs. Probably just kissing and stuff.

A week later, Millicent was in a position to mention to her father that she wished to visit her relatives as a way to spend a pleasant summer. Her father said fine, let me know where you'll be. In a chatty manner she said she would write them for permission to stay a while. Her father gave an 'ah hm' or two and went back to his paper. Then, out of the blue, he brought up the fox hunt and the boy.

"Remember that lying scaly-wag that attacked you. I got around to reading a report on the whole family. It was a good thing Robert was close by when it happened. The whole family seems to have disgusting oral tendencies. Believe me, it could have been horrible and disgusting for a girl with your refinements. The queen has been preaching against just this sort of thing for years. A really disgusting perversion to make normal people sick."

Well, that settled it. She was going to spend the summer in Daring Cross. She simply had to get a good look at someone who was so perverted that he spent his spare time saving stupid riders.

Millicent spent a good deal of time over the next several weeks engaged in some very skillful correspondence to extract an invitation from her aunt in Daring Cross. But it was finally done. Signing up for the course was easy. Schools always needed money and would gladly bury their instructors in paying students if possible.

Boorum Academy Stables

Her first day at the stable she had been surprised at the interest in horseback riding. And she had to admit it, the boy had been impressive for someone his age. She had no idea what he thought when he read her name and looked at her. Surprise, no doubt, and maybe a little hate. That would be understandable.

The second day, actually the first day of class, found her mucking out the stall of the horse she'd drawn. Then she was taught how to groom him, feed him and saddle him. She was for the first time learning what was actuall required to keep a horse. It was certainly all new to a Lord's daughter. Proper women's dress was prohibited and all the women were told to wear pants. The point was made when Mathew answered another woman's question about it. 'If you want to steer a horse, use a side-saddle. If you want to control a horse use your legs.'

One hour was gone and she hadn't even been on the horse yet. She was beginning to think he had just joked about being saddle-sore. Mathew took the intermediate class that first day and had others start the other classes based on his lesson plans. Then for three hours straight the group did nothing but practice all of the gaits from walking to dead run. Every transition from gait to gait was picked apart and studied until they could change on command without really thinking about it. He made a black art simple with clear explanations and demonstrations. In the next three months, those simple things were practiced over and over as a way of loosing up the horse and riders before the lessons progressed.

It was two weeks later before they were having their horses merely step over one foot high poles. But the instructors, whoever they were, followed the teaching plan and pounded in the point. Feel what the horse is doing, direct him, and encourage him by placing him in the proper position for executing the jump. Over and over and over. It was rote learning but the understanding was coming to all of those in the class. It was very subtly done before a natural transition to three foot jumps. The base of knowledge and practice made it easy and natural. Then double jumps back to back and the subtle variations in speed, position and footing. Millicent was getting a real feel for the base of knowledge required to be at ease on horseback in any terrain. Until they tried their first four foot jump.

Millicent, when it was her turn at the jump, saw the fence where she died at the fox hunt. She wouldn't or couldn't let the horse do it. She defaulted three times, the last time they plowed into the setup poles. The student instructor was sympathetic and told her the following Monday she'd be able to do it. Now she had to agonize through the whole weekend. She knew she would fail again. She felt the cold sweat on her body.

Daring Cross

That evening at dinner with her aunt, she couldn't eat. Millicent finally told her aunt that she was going to visit a woman she had met at the jumping school and that she might stay overnight there. Since no one argued with a Lord's daughter, her aunt just nodded her head. Millicent had to confront her fears. And, the boy represented all of them. She knew where he lived from the detective's papers.

Bungalow 6

In an act of utter extravagance I had decided to celebrate the two-thirds point of the stupidest thing I had ever done on my own. That was taking on a class of horse-riding neophytes with little help other than class volunteers. The objective was ambitious to say the least and it was killing me. So I had gone down to the small town close to the prep school to the new french restaurant and ordered a large pail of Boullabaisse. They also had a boulangerie inside the place so I picked up two loaves of french bread to go with it. I fully expected it to provide at least three dinners pour moi.

When someone knocked on the door, my first thoughts were of Janice. Should I sip her as an aperitif or eat her as a dessert? About two steps from the door I realized she would not be back again until school started. So, slightly depressed I opened the door.

I stood there for a least a minute while a multitude of varying thoughts raced through my mind. This beautiful young woman was in my riding class, was my accuser as a molester, and was still a very real threat to get my father fired. I wondered if it was another setup?

Her thoughts as she knocked on the door was to simply ask for help with her riding problem. That was all, she kept telling herself. But as he stood there looking at her, she marveled at how masculine he looked. He had faced down her father, something she had not been able to do, ever. Then her nose started to twitch. Damn. That smelled like boullabaisse from France and she hadn't felt like eating anything at her aunts. She was suddenly ravenous.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Yes, of course."

"If that's boullabaisse, and if that is actually french bread, do you mind if I have a bite or two? I haven't eaten," she said as she slid around him and looked at the poor accommodations. "This is quaint."

"This is free. I'm here on an academic scholarship. They didn't ask me what I would like."

"Did they make you take this summer job?"

"No. But I made my being allowed to stay here a condition of taking the job."

"So, everyone is happy?"

"More or less."

"I can hear my dinner simmering."

"What you hear is mine simmering. But if you're willing to wait a little, there is more for you in the pail. It's from the new french restaurant in town."

"Parlez vous francais?" she asked.

"Oue." She continued in french and so did I. She explained that she had a french governess as a child and I said that my father and I had a french, girls school instructor as a boarder at our place for several years. We were both comfortable in french, and, of course, it went with the food.

Two hours later all three days worth of my food was gone, and even the juice had been sopped up by the two loaves of bread. Both of us were stuffed and laying on our backs across the double bed, moaning our satisfaction.

"I suppose I should think about how I can return to Daring Cross tonight in the dark. My aunt thinks I'll be staying overnight with a girl friend."

"If you were a little loose with the english language, you could call me a girl's friend and sleep over there. I may be able to resist my impulses until morning."

She looked at the single bed against the wall. "Is it nice and comfortable?"

"The other young gentleman you didn't quite meet at Venerable Hall slept in it for most of a term. He didn't complain too often or too loudly. Your choice but no guarantees."

"Well, then, I think I'll try it. I'm far too lazy and full of good food to worry about returning tonight. Is there a partition or something for modesty?

"We call it darkness here in the lowlands. I'll try to not look; fair enough? I'll even let you use my spare set of clean flannels. Tonight, it feels like you'll need them. It's starting to rain already. There is even a new toothbrush in the cabinet."

Millicent lay in the not very comfortable bed thinking about the evening. She hadn't mentioned horses once and neither had he. He was so damned comfortable to be around, she didn't know where the evening had gone. Intelligent, handsome, erudite, knowledgeable and interesting to boot. She didn't know exactly what love felt like, but if this wasn't it, it had to be damned close. She was on the sharp edge of a life-changing decision.