A/N So, this is a little fic that takes place in the attributes of love series. There's been a few mentions of a bad adventure with riding a horse in that series and I decided to write that adventure out.
The story takes place in the autumn of 1912, so between episodes 1.2 and 1.3.
It was the autumn of 1913 and Matthew Reginald Crawley was standing in the stables looking nervously at the horses. Why had he agreed to go riding with his cousin? He didn't know how to ride. It wasn't that he had never ridden before, or at least attempted to ride. But, he was probably the only nine-year-old boy who had fallen off of the pony at the fair. He hasn't even been on the thing for a minute before he had fallen off and here he was about to get on a real horse.
It most certainly was not going to help that his cousin could ride like she was born in the saddle. Another factor in his disfavour was that he and his cousin had basically agreed on mutual annoyance with the other. Of course, she had several good reasons, the biggest of which was that he basically was taking ways her birthright simply because he was of the male sex. She saw him as the sea monster in Perseus and Andromeda, and he had to admit her logic did make sense.
He was still standing there, and looking rather like an idiot, when Mary arrived. "You're not nervous about getting on a horse, are you?" she asked rather disdainfully.
Matthew licked his rather dry lips and replied, "Of course not. Why should I be?" Inside he was quaking with nervousness though. Falling off of a horse was a lot higher than falling off of a pony. Of course, it was rather dumb for him to be this nervous about something that was supposed to be simple, but his only experience had been a bad one and thus it was the only memory he could remember at the moment.
The dreaded moment made its announcement of arrival with Lynch leading two saddled horses out of the stable and into the paddock. One of the horses Matthew recognized as Diamond, Mary's horse, and the other he didn't know, but knew it was his.
"This is Lady Sybil's horse, Mr Crawley," said Lynch. "Name's Socks and she's one of the calmest horses in creation."
Matthew nodded as he licked his lips yet again. How was he to mount the thing? The disastrous pony incident involved his father placing him on the horse, but as a grown man he couldn't be lifted. Not would it be appropriate for him to use the mounting block. Even though Mary was using the block and riding sidesaddle, he observed her as she mounted the horse. It looked like one fluid motion when she did it, but he knew he'd be extremely clumsy.
"Do you need a hand, Mr Crawley?" Lynch inquired as soon as he had Mary settled. "You're a city man, so I assume you haven't done much horseback riding."
"You're correct with the latter part, Lynch," admitted Matthew. He would never admit in front of Mary that he'd never been on a real horse, but it would be greater embarrassment to be unsuccessful in mounting a horse. The city excuse was a decent one, and it certainly was better than inability. "And yes, a hand in mounting would be quite beneficial."
"Put your left foot here," Lynch instructed while pointing to the stirrup, and after Matthew had done so, Lynch made a support with his hands and told Matthew to stick his other foot in it. Matthew did so rather gingerly and suddenly Lynch stood up and somewhat flung and Matthew somewhat moved his leg over to the other side where it quickly found the stirrup.
"Now that you're mounted, we must be off," said Mary somewhat haughtily. "Lynch, perhaps you better come as well. Mr Horsemanshipless may need to use your hands as a mounting block as well."
"Yes, milady," Lynch replied. His horse was saddled and ready to go as he knew His Lordship wouldn't want Lady Mary riding alone with only Mr Matthew Crawley for company.
Lynch had just turned to go and bring his horse out, when he heard a cry. He spun around just on time to see Matthew slip off the saddle and plummet to the ground on the side opposite of the mounting side.
Meanwhile, Matthew had been keeping a death grip on the reins and with his knees, as he knew that much was important for staying on. For a short time, he wondered if he'd be able to actually manage to go a short distance without losing his balance.
It was clear that Mary was getting a bit impatient as she had started Diamond with a slow walk around the paddock. Matthew didn't want to do anything. He was already starting to think he had lost his balance when suddenly he did.
In after years, Matthew was never quite certain what happened except that he ended up on the ground in a heap. The most likely guess was that his foot had slipped out of the stirrup and due to both his death-grip and not being centred on the saddle, he slipped off.
"Oof," grunted Matthew when he landed.
Lynch was by him in a matter of seconds. "Is everything alright, Mr Crawley?" he asked hurriedly. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," Matthew assured the nervous groom. "Just had the wind knocked out of me, my trousers are covered in mud, and will probably have a bruise or two in the morning, but that's it."
"Do you wish to try again?"
"No," Matthew answered firmly. Two falls off of a still horse were enough. "And you'll never see me on a horse again, as long as I can help it."
Mary let out an exasperated sigh. "You cannot be an earl without being able to ride," she said with an air of pride. "Riding is an art of the upper class."
"I'm not a part of the upper class," Matthew retorted, having been helped to his feet. He tried to dust off some of the mud, but that just made things worse. At least he would have needed a bath tonight anyway. "And I suppose I'll be the first earl to not ride a horse. I don't wish for either event to happen to me, and even though the earldom is not something I can avoid, riding a horse is something that I can. Good day, Cousin Mary."
With that, he walked out of the paddock and across the grounds toward Crawley House.
As he was walking, he heard the sound of someone hurrying behind him. Knowing that Mary wouldn't dream of chasing him, he was certain it had to be one of his other cousins. He stopped and turned. It was Sybil.
"I'm sorry about your riding experience," she said. "Socks is such a calm horse, I thought she'd be perfect for you."
"She is a calm horse," agreed Matthew, "but I'm such a clumsy fool, I can't stay on any horse for more than a few seconds."
"I'm sorry to hear that," sighed Sybil. "I don't ride as much as Mary, but it's such a relaxing experience."
"Perhaps it is for some, but most certainly not for me," said Matthew. "And I'm never getting on a horse again. Both times I've attempted to ride, I've fallen off in less than a minute and before I even start to move. That is not an experience I care to repeat again."
"But you'll never learn if you don't try," Sybil protested.
"Sorry, Sybil, but I promise you, it isn't going to happen. I have tried: twice. That is enough for anyone. If I ever change my mind I promise … I promise to … to …" Matthew struggled finding something that he would never do in his whole life as this was a bargain he'd never have to fulfill.
"Sing a duet with Mary!" cried Sybil with a laugh.
Matthew looked aghast for a few brief seconds, but readily agreed. After all, he was never mounting a horse again. As he continued on his way, he briefly wondered what Mary's singing voice was like. He knew they had something akin to mutual hatred, but she spoke so beautifully, when she wasn't disdainful, that he was certain she had to have at least an equally beautiful singing voice. He quickly shook his head to get rid of such thoughts. Why was he thinking such things about Mary? It was obvious the disliked him to the extreme and she certain had the right to do so as in her eyes, he was only there to steal the inheritance that should have been rightfully hers. He didn't exactly want to be here. It was clear enough to him, but why couldn't Cousin Mary see it that way? At any rate, he would never have to deal with her and horses at the same time again. The ideal situation would be to avoid both, but as that was impossible, it was best to choose one, and that was horses. He could always enjoy a good bicker with Cousin Mary, but one could not argue with a horse.