Chapter Eleven
'What are your names?' she asked. At their blank expressions she pointed to herself and said, 'Blaise Les Sables.' Then she pointed to the girls.
'Nessie,' said one, the smallest.
'Rosy,' announced another, the one with the great black eyes.
'Blodgett. no! No!. Bridget,' corrected the tallest child.
The last, the plump one, announced, 'Moriah.'
'What strange names for witches. Where did you get those names?' Blaise asked, smiling. Moriah giggled, and Blaise gave it up. However was she to communicate with these children?
When her hair was dry, Moriah jumped up to brush the long midnight strands. She stood behind the chair while the others sat cross-legged in front of Blaise. The little vixens, Blaise thought. They're the approval committee, and they take their job seriously. From time to time they squinted and nodded, mostly in the affirmative. Moriah kept up a running report and the girls again nodded. Nessie, the smallest, ran to get the hand mirror. 'You see?' asked Moriah proudly.
Blaise looked at her reflection. She was amazed at the artfulness the child had exhibited. The black tresses were piled high on her head with a single curl falling over one shoulder. At her ears, tine tendrils of curls were permitted to escape the pins.
They waited expectantly for her reaction. She smiled and repeated their names. 'Voldie,' she laughed and embraced the children. Unnoticed the housekeeper, Joss had entered the room and now watched the scenario on the veranda through icy, green eyes.
With a loud clap of her hands the housekeeper dismissed the now subdued children. They scurried from the room, but not before the jolly, pig-tailed Moriah turned her head and gave Blaise a precocious wink. Blaise could not believe her eyes and had to stifle a laugh at the little girls' defiance.
'How old are the children?' she asked the housekeeper.
'They are ten-years old, Mistress Les Sables. Were they satisfactory?'
'Most definitely. They're very experienced for girls so young.'
'Mistress Malfoy trained them herself,' the housekeeper said coldly. 'Master Kelso is waiting for you on the east veranda. Minister Lucius is out on the plantation.' The cultured, musical voice of the ghost housekeeper was coldly aloof. 'Dinner shall be served at half past eight, Mistress Les Sables. Formal dress code.' She glided from the room with a grace Blaise envied.
Blaise followed the housekeeper down the hall and out to the veranda with anticipation to meet hers and Lucius' illegitimate son again.
'Good day Blaise!' Kelso said bowing low. Kelso announced bowing low.
'Yes, it is,' Blaise said returning his smile.
He rose to full height. Handsomely tall and of muscular build, he was an impressive figure for a young man barely in his twenties. His blue eyes smiled into hers and he impatiently brushed back a lock of springy, fair hair from his wide brow.
'Let us sit,' Blaise said, seating herself on a rattan chair. 'Why is it that you're not out on the plantation with your father?'
Kelso looked momentarily angry. He became engrossed in rubbing the thumb of his left hand between the index and middle finger, and then he pulled himself to attention. 'Father wanted someone from the family to be here to welcome you and to show you around,' he said offhandedly. Besides he's dealing with the rubber spell merchants today and father didn't want me aro- ' Suddenly, Kelso flushed and changed the subject. Blaise pretended not to notice the slip of tongue. Kelso then spoke of the plantation and the changes that had come to pass since he was a child. 'Every year we have more rubber spells and better markets,' he said. It sounded as though he were repeating a much learned school lesson.
Blaise spoke of the girls and asked Kelso how they came to have such uncultured names.
'That is Fathers doing, they're muggles and he bought them,' he shrugged. Hiss eyes sparkled as he spoke. 'They're wonderful,' he smiled, 'quick, bright, and eager to please. Especially Moriah. She's a quick little bird, isn't she?'
Blaise thought back to the precocious wink and agreed with Kelso.
'How many workers has Lucius employed?' she asked.
'Over three hundred.'
'Do all plantations have that many workers?' Blaise asked, avoiding using the word slave.
'Some have more. Spondance Geery has, in all, only one hundred. Somehow he gets more work out of one hundred than we do with the three hundred we have,' he said frowning. 'Of course you must have heard he gave his slaves their freedom. I am sure someone must have told you,' he smiled.
Blaise nodded. 'Has Lucius considered doing the same?' she asked.
Kelso looked shocked. 'He says he gets no work from them now. What would they do if they were given their freedom?'
'How long does he think he can hold off?' Blaise questioned. 'I heard that it's only a matter of time before the Ministry abolish slavery.'
'It never will!' Kelso roared, startling Blaise to silence. Noting the shocked expression her face, he continued in a quieter voice that he visibly struggled to control. 'At the moment we're having a little trouble with our slaves. We hear they're planning an uprising. But we hear that very often. Sometimes I think they spread the rumour themselves just to irritate father.'
Blaise glanced at the table next to Kelso. 'How beautiful,' she said admiring an array of wooden soldiers.
'They're collectors items,' Kelso said proudly, handing her one of the brightest painted figures.
Blaise admired the artistry and commented on the fine detail. 'How many do you have?' she asked.
'Seventy six in all,' Kelso told her. 'I hope to reach one hundred one day soon.'
'I've never seen such fine soldiers. You must be very fond of them,' Blaise said.
'I am, Blaise. They're my most treasured possessions. I've been collecting them since I was a small boy.' Quickly, he changed the subject. 'Would you like to walk through the garden before the heat gets unbearable? Later, after lunch, I'll give you a tour of our Casa Grande.' He extended a long arm and helped Blaise from the chair. They walked down the steps, the perfume of the crepe jasmine heavy in the air.
Blaise expressed delight over the abundance of sweet-smelling, lush flowers. Kelso explained how difficult it was to keep the jungle from creeping up to the door. 'The lawn gets shorter and shorter every year,' he laughed.
Within an hour the heat and humidity reached a soaring point, and Blaise felt light-headed.
'We had better get back,' Kelso said, noticing her pallor. 'I shouldn't have kept you out so long. You have to get used to the heat gradually.' Blaise secretly felt she would never grow accustomed to Lucius's home, as she walked behind Kelso on the narrow footpath.
Setting themselves in a dim, cool room of the Casa Grande, Kelso rang for the house keeper and requested cool drinks. Blaise sat and rested her head on the head rest behind her chair. It appeared to be a conservatory of some sort, and she promptly asked Kelso what the room was used for.
'It is what Narcissa calls her morning room. We moved her spinet in here after Mira was born. Mostly, its never played. I come here sometimes just to see if I can play it.' He explained. Blaise felt puzzled at the quick, choppy way her son spoke.
Blaise asked no more questions as the house keeper offered her a tall, cool- looking drink. She tasted it, and her mouth puckered. 'What is it?'
'Lime and papaya juice. We find it an excellent thirst quencher.'
Blaise agreed. A trifle tart for her taste, but she supposed she would get used to it. 'Its so pleasant here in the house,' Blaise remarked. 'What a contrast to the heat outside.'
'That's because the walls are more than a foot thick and the roof is tile. Would you care to see the rest of Casa Grande?'
When Blaise nodded, Kelso jumped to attention, ready to guide her.
The Casa was laid out in the shape of an M; the building surrounded a small courtyard paved with cobblestones and artfully landscaped with tropical shrubs and trees. Throughout, the furnishings were baroque in style, embellished by touches of gilt. Blaise found she was appreciative of her room with its simpler Regency style furniture. Lucius's taste was much to ostentatious for her liking. Kelso pointed different objects, and she carefully complimented them, seeing how he was enjoying his role of tour director. As they circled back to the morning room, he remarked, 'It's almost a perfect copy of the original, down to the details.'
'The original?'
'The original Casa Grande. Grandfather lived there. When he died it burned to the ground. Father had this one built soon after. The first Casa was about a mile from here. Father didn't build on the old foundations because he felt it advantageous that we be closer to the river.' His speech about the old Casa was spoken as though he were reading it from a Cook's tour pamphlet.
Lunch was served in a cool, dim room in the back of the house. Blaise was surprised at the quality of the fine English china, and commented on it.
'It's Narcissa's,' Kelso explained. 'We have many fine pieces as you will soon see.' The lunch was light and pleasant. A sweet salad of guavas and oranges with pineapple, then some thin slices of cheese with wafer thin slices of bread and another glass of the lime-papaya juice completed the meal. Kelso escorted Blaise to her room for the siesta and told her he would join her for tea at four and promised a horseback ride later.
Blaise lay down with the thought of resting only. Soon her eyes closed and she was sound asleep. The oppressive heat had had its effect and enervated her. She woke drenched to the skin. Quickly, she shed her damp clothing and made a mental note to remove her outer clothing when she next took her siesta. Changing into a light riding clothing gear, she entered the conservatory where she had promised to join Kelso for tea. As she neared the door, she head a law-voiced conversation from within and was about to retrace her steps when she heard her name mentioned.
'You know your father won't like it if you take the Senora riding. You know he doesn't approve of your horsemanship, Kelso.'
It was the housekeeper. She sounded quite bossy and even petulant. 'Why not wait till someone returns and you can go with him.'
Blaise stood quietly, listening shamelessly.
'I'm sure, Elena, that Blaise is an accomplished horsewoman. You don't have to worry that she'll fall from her horse. I'll watch over her,' he said coldly. Blaise though that with such a blunt statement the housekeeper would have considered herself dismissed, but she continued to argue the point, her voice lowered, musical cadence gone.
'If you disobey your father again, Kelso, I fear he will not order the new soldiers for you,' she said firmly.
'Then I'll order them myself. I'm not a child any longer Elena, I can make a trip to Diagon Alley, as you well know. I intend to keep my promise to take Blaise riding after tea. See that you fetch it immediately,' he ordered imperiously.
Blaise felt it was time to make her presence known. She retreated a few steps and stepped heavily on the tile floor, her heels making a clicking sound.
'I hope I'm not late, Kelso,' she said, entering the room. The austere housekeeper glanced at Blaise with hostility as she left the room. She returned almost immediately with two fine cups, a pot of tea, and a tray of pastries.
'I think it's a little cooler, don't you, Kelso?' Blaise asked.
'Yes, it usually starts to cool off around tea time. It's the best part of the day.'
Blaise had two cups of tea and several of the flaky pastries. Kelso seemed to have an insatiable appetite. He continued to eat pastries until the plate was empty. He smiled sheepishly at Blaise's look.
'They're my favourite,' he remarked, then burst out laughing. His laughter was contagious, and Blaise joined him.
'But not too good for the waistline,' she said playfully.
'That doesn't worry me,' he smiled again as he finished his fourth cup of tea.
'Is that your favourite, too?' Blaise asked with humour. He nodded happily as he set his cup down and stood up to shake the crumbs from his trousers.
Blaise followed him through the kitchen area and walked out into the pebbled courtyard where two saddled horses stood waiting. Kelso helped Blaise mount and they set off, Kelso in the lead.
Blaise rode a dappled grey, and Kelso a high spirited chestnut gelding. He seemed to ride with ease. She wondered vaguely at the housekeeper's warning him against disobeying Lucius. It had sounded as a warning. Suddenly, Kelso veered to the left and reined in the startled gelding. He dug his heels into the flank and the animal reared and pawed the air. Kelso continued to pull on the reins, and the horse fought all the harder. Blaise felt frightened. There didn't seem to be anything on the ground to startle the horse. Kelso freed the reins, and the horse quieted as he pawed the ground and nickered softly.
'What happened, Kelso?' Blaise asked anxiously.
Kelso's face looked contrite. 'I don't know. One minute he was fine and the next he was in the air.'
'You should never pull the reins as you did; you only frighten him more,' Blaise said quietly.
'I know. He was just out of control for the minute. Don't badger me. Come on, let's ride a bit further. See, over there?' he said pointing his finger in an easterly direction. 'That's the beginning of Vladimir Shickovavich's property.'
Blaise looked in the direction Kelso pointed and wondered where Vladimir was at this moment. She had not long to find out. Kelso dug his heels into the flank of the gelding, and the horse snorted and took off at a gallop. At first glance it was evident that Kelso did not have a good seat. He'd been turned sideways to speak to Blaise when the horse broke into a run.
Blaise followed but the speed of the animal was frightening and she felt helpless as she watched the horse and the rider plunge ahead.
Suddenly, another rider came into view, took in the scene, and spurred his broom after the runaway gelding. Minutes later both riders returned. Vladimir Shickovavich led the now docile horse carrying Kelso.
He nodded indifferently to Blaise, but the way her white riding clothes moulded itself to her slim supple curves did not escape him.
'Does Lucius know you're riding his gelding?' Vladimir asked Kelso quietly.
Kelso turned sullen and ignored the question. Vladimir shrugged and looked as though the hadn't expected an answer anyway.
Blaise remained as mute as Kelso. Why should she say anything and have him turn it around to suit his satisfaction? Who cared what he though anyway, she muttered viciously under her breath. She had been insulted and humiliated enough by everyone to last her a lifetime.
'You are trespassing on my property,' Vladimir said coldly. 'Come, I'll ride back with your to the boundary line to be sure that you get home safely.'
'There's no need for you to play duenna for Blaise or myself. I'm perfectly capable of seeing that we both get home safely,' Kelso said petulantly.
'It's not your friend that I'm concerned about, Kelso. I want to be sure that you get back to where you belong. Blaise here has proven that she can do just about anything.' His tone was so cold Blaise thought her blood would freeze in her veins.
Kelso's head dropped as his gelding fell in behind Vladimir's blue black broom. Blaise marvelled at the broom and the man who rode it so effortlessly, knowing no other man would have been able to ride it with same agility Vladimir displayed.
From time to time Kelso turned in his saddle to glare at Vladimir, who completely ignored him.
Blaise's back stiffened. What business was it of Vladimir's if Kelso rode the gelding or not? He had a perfect right to chastise them for trespassing, but that was all. And why did he ask if his father new that Kelso was riding the gelding?
Suddenly, Vladimir turned and stared at Blaise. Actually, she thought, it looked as though he was staring through her, a glint in his silver eyes. When he finally spoke, it so unnerved her she almost fell from her mount. How could he sound so brutal, so cold and hard. What was he saying? She had to pay attention.
'Les Sables, there's no telling what might have happened to you if I hadn't come along when I did. It's not wise of you to ride here in the jungle until you are more familiar with the terrain, and it would be best if you rode with an experienced horseman, which Kelso, as you can see, is not. In short, this property is off limits to all who reside in the Malfoy Manor. Is that understood, Mrs. Les Sables?'
'Perfectly,' Blaise hissed through clenched teeth.
Vladimir stopped his broom. 'This is as far as I go with you. I doubt very much if Lucius would appreciate me escorting his son and guest to his plantation.' The grey eyes were slate coloured now in the afternoon sun. Almost murky, as he once again gazed past Blaise's head. Swinging the broom effortlessly, he headed back in the direction from which they had just come.
'What are your names?' she asked. At their blank expressions she pointed to herself and said, 'Blaise Les Sables.' Then she pointed to the girls.
'Nessie,' said one, the smallest.
'Rosy,' announced another, the one with the great black eyes.
'Blodgett. no! No!. Bridget,' corrected the tallest child.
The last, the plump one, announced, 'Moriah.'
'What strange names for witches. Where did you get those names?' Blaise asked, smiling. Moriah giggled, and Blaise gave it up. However was she to communicate with these children?
When her hair was dry, Moriah jumped up to brush the long midnight strands. She stood behind the chair while the others sat cross-legged in front of Blaise. The little vixens, Blaise thought. They're the approval committee, and they take their job seriously. From time to time they squinted and nodded, mostly in the affirmative. Moriah kept up a running report and the girls again nodded. Nessie, the smallest, ran to get the hand mirror. 'You see?' asked Moriah proudly.
Blaise looked at her reflection. She was amazed at the artfulness the child had exhibited. The black tresses were piled high on her head with a single curl falling over one shoulder. At her ears, tine tendrils of curls were permitted to escape the pins.
They waited expectantly for her reaction. She smiled and repeated their names. 'Voldie,' she laughed and embraced the children. Unnoticed the housekeeper, Joss had entered the room and now watched the scenario on the veranda through icy, green eyes.
With a loud clap of her hands the housekeeper dismissed the now subdued children. They scurried from the room, but not before the jolly, pig-tailed Moriah turned her head and gave Blaise a precocious wink. Blaise could not believe her eyes and had to stifle a laugh at the little girls' defiance.
'How old are the children?' she asked the housekeeper.
'They are ten-years old, Mistress Les Sables. Were they satisfactory?'
'Most definitely. They're very experienced for girls so young.'
'Mistress Malfoy trained them herself,' the housekeeper said coldly. 'Master Kelso is waiting for you on the east veranda. Minister Lucius is out on the plantation.' The cultured, musical voice of the ghost housekeeper was coldly aloof. 'Dinner shall be served at half past eight, Mistress Les Sables. Formal dress code.' She glided from the room with a grace Blaise envied.
Blaise followed the housekeeper down the hall and out to the veranda with anticipation to meet hers and Lucius' illegitimate son again.
'Good day Blaise!' Kelso said bowing low. Kelso announced bowing low.
'Yes, it is,' Blaise said returning his smile.
He rose to full height. Handsomely tall and of muscular build, he was an impressive figure for a young man barely in his twenties. His blue eyes smiled into hers and he impatiently brushed back a lock of springy, fair hair from his wide brow.
'Let us sit,' Blaise said, seating herself on a rattan chair. 'Why is it that you're not out on the plantation with your father?'
Kelso looked momentarily angry. He became engrossed in rubbing the thumb of his left hand between the index and middle finger, and then he pulled himself to attention. 'Father wanted someone from the family to be here to welcome you and to show you around,' he said offhandedly. Besides he's dealing with the rubber spell merchants today and father didn't want me aro- ' Suddenly, Kelso flushed and changed the subject. Blaise pretended not to notice the slip of tongue. Kelso then spoke of the plantation and the changes that had come to pass since he was a child. 'Every year we have more rubber spells and better markets,' he said. It sounded as though he were repeating a much learned school lesson.
Blaise spoke of the girls and asked Kelso how they came to have such uncultured names.
'That is Fathers doing, they're muggles and he bought them,' he shrugged. Hiss eyes sparkled as he spoke. 'They're wonderful,' he smiled, 'quick, bright, and eager to please. Especially Moriah. She's a quick little bird, isn't she?'
Blaise thought back to the precocious wink and agreed with Kelso.
'How many workers has Lucius employed?' she asked.
'Over three hundred.'
'Do all plantations have that many workers?' Blaise asked, avoiding using the word slave.
'Some have more. Spondance Geery has, in all, only one hundred. Somehow he gets more work out of one hundred than we do with the three hundred we have,' he said frowning. 'Of course you must have heard he gave his slaves their freedom. I am sure someone must have told you,' he smiled.
Blaise nodded. 'Has Lucius considered doing the same?' she asked.
Kelso looked shocked. 'He says he gets no work from them now. What would they do if they were given their freedom?'
'How long does he think he can hold off?' Blaise questioned. 'I heard that it's only a matter of time before the Ministry abolish slavery.'
'It never will!' Kelso roared, startling Blaise to silence. Noting the shocked expression her face, he continued in a quieter voice that he visibly struggled to control. 'At the moment we're having a little trouble with our slaves. We hear they're planning an uprising. But we hear that very often. Sometimes I think they spread the rumour themselves just to irritate father.'
Blaise glanced at the table next to Kelso. 'How beautiful,' she said admiring an array of wooden soldiers.
'They're collectors items,' Kelso said proudly, handing her one of the brightest painted figures.
Blaise admired the artistry and commented on the fine detail. 'How many do you have?' she asked.
'Seventy six in all,' Kelso told her. 'I hope to reach one hundred one day soon.'
'I've never seen such fine soldiers. You must be very fond of them,' Blaise said.
'I am, Blaise. They're my most treasured possessions. I've been collecting them since I was a small boy.' Quickly, he changed the subject. 'Would you like to walk through the garden before the heat gets unbearable? Later, after lunch, I'll give you a tour of our Casa Grande.' He extended a long arm and helped Blaise from the chair. They walked down the steps, the perfume of the crepe jasmine heavy in the air.
Blaise expressed delight over the abundance of sweet-smelling, lush flowers. Kelso explained how difficult it was to keep the jungle from creeping up to the door. 'The lawn gets shorter and shorter every year,' he laughed.
Within an hour the heat and humidity reached a soaring point, and Blaise felt light-headed.
'We had better get back,' Kelso said, noticing her pallor. 'I shouldn't have kept you out so long. You have to get used to the heat gradually.' Blaise secretly felt she would never grow accustomed to Lucius's home, as she walked behind Kelso on the narrow footpath.
Setting themselves in a dim, cool room of the Casa Grande, Kelso rang for the house keeper and requested cool drinks. Blaise sat and rested her head on the head rest behind her chair. It appeared to be a conservatory of some sort, and she promptly asked Kelso what the room was used for.
'It is what Narcissa calls her morning room. We moved her spinet in here after Mira was born. Mostly, its never played. I come here sometimes just to see if I can play it.' He explained. Blaise felt puzzled at the quick, choppy way her son spoke.
Blaise asked no more questions as the house keeper offered her a tall, cool- looking drink. She tasted it, and her mouth puckered. 'What is it?'
'Lime and papaya juice. We find it an excellent thirst quencher.'
Blaise agreed. A trifle tart for her taste, but she supposed she would get used to it. 'Its so pleasant here in the house,' Blaise remarked. 'What a contrast to the heat outside.'
'That's because the walls are more than a foot thick and the roof is tile. Would you care to see the rest of Casa Grande?'
When Blaise nodded, Kelso jumped to attention, ready to guide her.
The Casa was laid out in the shape of an M; the building surrounded a small courtyard paved with cobblestones and artfully landscaped with tropical shrubs and trees. Throughout, the furnishings were baroque in style, embellished by touches of gilt. Blaise found she was appreciative of her room with its simpler Regency style furniture. Lucius's taste was much to ostentatious for her liking. Kelso pointed different objects, and she carefully complimented them, seeing how he was enjoying his role of tour director. As they circled back to the morning room, he remarked, 'It's almost a perfect copy of the original, down to the details.'
'The original?'
'The original Casa Grande. Grandfather lived there. When he died it burned to the ground. Father had this one built soon after. The first Casa was about a mile from here. Father didn't build on the old foundations because he felt it advantageous that we be closer to the river.' His speech about the old Casa was spoken as though he were reading it from a Cook's tour pamphlet.
Lunch was served in a cool, dim room in the back of the house. Blaise was surprised at the quality of the fine English china, and commented on it.
'It's Narcissa's,' Kelso explained. 'We have many fine pieces as you will soon see.' The lunch was light and pleasant. A sweet salad of guavas and oranges with pineapple, then some thin slices of cheese with wafer thin slices of bread and another glass of the lime-papaya juice completed the meal. Kelso escorted Blaise to her room for the siesta and told her he would join her for tea at four and promised a horseback ride later.
Blaise lay down with the thought of resting only. Soon her eyes closed and she was sound asleep. The oppressive heat had had its effect and enervated her. She woke drenched to the skin. Quickly, she shed her damp clothing and made a mental note to remove her outer clothing when she next took her siesta. Changing into a light riding clothing gear, she entered the conservatory where she had promised to join Kelso for tea. As she neared the door, she head a law-voiced conversation from within and was about to retrace her steps when she heard her name mentioned.
'You know your father won't like it if you take the Senora riding. You know he doesn't approve of your horsemanship, Kelso.'
It was the housekeeper. She sounded quite bossy and even petulant. 'Why not wait till someone returns and you can go with him.'
Blaise stood quietly, listening shamelessly.
'I'm sure, Elena, that Blaise is an accomplished horsewoman. You don't have to worry that she'll fall from her horse. I'll watch over her,' he said coldly. Blaise though that with such a blunt statement the housekeeper would have considered herself dismissed, but she continued to argue the point, her voice lowered, musical cadence gone.
'If you disobey your father again, Kelso, I fear he will not order the new soldiers for you,' she said firmly.
'Then I'll order them myself. I'm not a child any longer Elena, I can make a trip to Diagon Alley, as you well know. I intend to keep my promise to take Blaise riding after tea. See that you fetch it immediately,' he ordered imperiously.
Blaise felt it was time to make her presence known. She retreated a few steps and stepped heavily on the tile floor, her heels making a clicking sound.
'I hope I'm not late, Kelso,' she said, entering the room. The austere housekeeper glanced at Blaise with hostility as she left the room. She returned almost immediately with two fine cups, a pot of tea, and a tray of pastries.
'I think it's a little cooler, don't you, Kelso?' Blaise asked.
'Yes, it usually starts to cool off around tea time. It's the best part of the day.'
Blaise had two cups of tea and several of the flaky pastries. Kelso seemed to have an insatiable appetite. He continued to eat pastries until the plate was empty. He smiled sheepishly at Blaise's look.
'They're my favourite,' he remarked, then burst out laughing. His laughter was contagious, and Blaise joined him.
'But not too good for the waistline,' she said playfully.
'That doesn't worry me,' he smiled again as he finished his fourth cup of tea.
'Is that your favourite, too?' Blaise asked with humour. He nodded happily as he set his cup down and stood up to shake the crumbs from his trousers.
Blaise followed him through the kitchen area and walked out into the pebbled courtyard where two saddled horses stood waiting. Kelso helped Blaise mount and they set off, Kelso in the lead.
Blaise rode a dappled grey, and Kelso a high spirited chestnut gelding. He seemed to ride with ease. She wondered vaguely at the housekeeper's warning him against disobeying Lucius. It had sounded as a warning. Suddenly, Kelso veered to the left and reined in the startled gelding. He dug his heels into the flank and the animal reared and pawed the air. Kelso continued to pull on the reins, and the horse fought all the harder. Blaise felt frightened. There didn't seem to be anything on the ground to startle the horse. Kelso freed the reins, and the horse quieted as he pawed the ground and nickered softly.
'What happened, Kelso?' Blaise asked anxiously.
Kelso's face looked contrite. 'I don't know. One minute he was fine and the next he was in the air.'
'You should never pull the reins as you did; you only frighten him more,' Blaise said quietly.
'I know. He was just out of control for the minute. Don't badger me. Come on, let's ride a bit further. See, over there?' he said pointing his finger in an easterly direction. 'That's the beginning of Vladimir Shickovavich's property.'
Blaise looked in the direction Kelso pointed and wondered where Vladimir was at this moment. She had not long to find out. Kelso dug his heels into the flank of the gelding, and the horse snorted and took off at a gallop. At first glance it was evident that Kelso did not have a good seat. He'd been turned sideways to speak to Blaise when the horse broke into a run.
Blaise followed but the speed of the animal was frightening and she felt helpless as she watched the horse and the rider plunge ahead.
Suddenly, another rider came into view, took in the scene, and spurred his broom after the runaway gelding. Minutes later both riders returned. Vladimir Shickovavich led the now docile horse carrying Kelso.
He nodded indifferently to Blaise, but the way her white riding clothes moulded itself to her slim supple curves did not escape him.
'Does Lucius know you're riding his gelding?' Vladimir asked Kelso quietly.
Kelso turned sullen and ignored the question. Vladimir shrugged and looked as though the hadn't expected an answer anyway.
Blaise remained as mute as Kelso. Why should she say anything and have him turn it around to suit his satisfaction? Who cared what he though anyway, she muttered viciously under her breath. She had been insulted and humiliated enough by everyone to last her a lifetime.
'You are trespassing on my property,' Vladimir said coldly. 'Come, I'll ride back with your to the boundary line to be sure that you get home safely.'
'There's no need for you to play duenna for Blaise or myself. I'm perfectly capable of seeing that we both get home safely,' Kelso said petulantly.
'It's not your friend that I'm concerned about, Kelso. I want to be sure that you get back to where you belong. Blaise here has proven that she can do just about anything.' His tone was so cold Blaise thought her blood would freeze in her veins.
Kelso's head dropped as his gelding fell in behind Vladimir's blue black broom. Blaise marvelled at the broom and the man who rode it so effortlessly, knowing no other man would have been able to ride it with same agility Vladimir displayed.
From time to time Kelso turned in his saddle to glare at Vladimir, who completely ignored him.
Blaise's back stiffened. What business was it of Vladimir's if Kelso rode the gelding or not? He had a perfect right to chastise them for trespassing, but that was all. And why did he ask if his father new that Kelso was riding the gelding?
Suddenly, Vladimir turned and stared at Blaise. Actually, she thought, it looked as though he was staring through her, a glint in his silver eyes. When he finally spoke, it so unnerved her she almost fell from her mount. How could he sound so brutal, so cold and hard. What was he saying? She had to pay attention.
'Les Sables, there's no telling what might have happened to you if I hadn't come along when I did. It's not wise of you to ride here in the jungle until you are more familiar with the terrain, and it would be best if you rode with an experienced horseman, which Kelso, as you can see, is not. In short, this property is off limits to all who reside in the Malfoy Manor. Is that understood, Mrs. Les Sables?'
'Perfectly,' Blaise hissed through clenched teeth.
Vladimir stopped his broom. 'This is as far as I go with you. I doubt very much if Lucius would appreciate me escorting his son and guest to his plantation.' The grey eyes were slate coloured now in the afternoon sun. Almost murky, as he once again gazed past Blaise's head. Swinging the broom effortlessly, he headed back in the direction from which they had just come.