6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six

The morning air was brisk, its chill nipping at Theresa's cheeks as she settled herself onto Ballerina's side-saddle with an ease that spoke of practice and growing confidence. Six weeks had passed since her first riding lesson, and the mare responded to her touch now with the familiarity of an old friend. Around them, Belle Haven's stables hummed with life—the soft nickering of horses and the whispering rustle of straw underfoot.

"Look at you, Theresa!" exclaimed Eliza, as she clambered onto the placid Duck with the aid of a groom. "You're as nimble as a cat!"

"Indeed," Clara chimed in. "I wager you could out-ride Mr. Thompson now. He always knocks over the top bar when he jumps."

Theresa laughed, the sound mingling with the crisp morning air. "Oh, I am not so sure of that," she replied modestly, though her heart swelled at the girls' praise. "But I thank you for your faith in me."

With a light tap of her heel, Ballerina trotted forward, her gait smooth and reassuring. Theresa straightened her back, breathed deeply, and clicked her tongue, asking the mare to canter.

Approaching the small fence, Theresa's breath caught with anticipation. Once such an obstacle would have sent fear spiralling through her, but now there was only exhilaration. As Ballerina gathered beneath her, the world seemed to pause—in that fraction of a second, Theresa was free from everything except the rise and fall of the jump.

"Up, up!" she encouraged softly.

Ballerina leaped, and they flew together, landing deftly on the other side. A cheer erupted from the watching children, their clapping hands sending joy ricocheting around the paddock.

"Bravo, Miss Theresa!" called Clara, her delight infectious.

"Thank you, my dears," Theresa said, patting Ballerina's neck as they circled back. Her cheeks were flushed with triumph—a feeling that had become a cherished companion since coming to Belle Haven.

Yet, amidst the gaiety of the morning, a shadow crept upon Theresa's heart, a reminder that today marked her nineteenth year. Birthdays at the orphanage had been sparse—no cakes or ribbons, just a single piece of licorice from the matron, bitter-sweet on her tongue. But it was the laughter and the shared whispers under coverlets that she found herself yearning for, the kinship of girls who understood the world's disregard.

"Are you well, Miss Theresa?" Anna asked, tilting her head with concern. "You look a bit sad."

"Quite well, thank you," Theresa answered, offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Let's go for our ride. Are you all ready?" Theresa allowed herself a quiet moment as Anna and Clara mounted their ponies, her gaze lingering on the horizon where the green tapestry of the estate rolled away. For all the sadness that touched her this day, she couldn't deny the warmth that enveloped her here, the sense of belonging that seeped into her bones. Belle Haven had become her anchor, and the thought of ever leaving its embrace seemed unfathomable.

"Happy birthday, Theresa," she whispered to herself, a private acknowledgment of her journey. And with that, she urged Ballerina forward, choosing to chase the joy of the day rather than dwell in the shadows of the past.

The morning sun spilled its golden light across the paddock as Theresa watched the Bell sisters flit around the garden, setting up ribbons and garlands for their youngest sibling's birthday. The air was filled with the scent of fresh blooms and the distant sound of laughter carried by the breeze.

"Miss Theresa," called Eliza, her voice bubbling with excitement, "do you think the streamers should go here, or there by the willow?"

"By the willow, I'd say," Theresa replied, smiling at the girl's enthusiasm. "It would look most enchanting."

As she walked over to help, Clara joined them, carrying a small basket of wildflowers. "When is your birthday, Miss Theresa?" she asked innocently while arranging the petals.

Theresa hesitated, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "It was actually last week," she confessed, her eyes lingering on the vibrant colours of the flowers.

"Last week!" gasped Anna. "And we didn't celebrate it?"

"Nor did we even wish you happy returns," Clara added, her cheeks flushing with dismay.

"Truly, it's quite alright," Theresa reassured them, touched by their concern. "I'm just happy to be here with all of you."

"But that won't do at all," insisted Anna, her youthful sense of justice firmly in place. "We must make amends."

"Indeed," agreed Eliza. "Tomorrow shall be your day as well!"

Before Theresa could protest, the girls bounded off, whispering plans between themselves. She watched them with a tender warmth spreading through her chest, feeling the threads of a family weave around her heart.

A few weeks later, Richard found Theresa in the stables brushing down Ballerina, the mare's coat gleaming under her attentive care. He leaned against the doorway, admiring the ease with which she had settled into life at Belle Haven.

"Theresa," he called out, his voice steady yet imbued with a hint of excitement.

She turned, her brown eyes curious. "Yes, Mr. Bell?"

"I've something for you." From behind his back, he brought forth a beautifully crafted side-saddle, the leatherwork exquisite and the design elegant.

"Is that for me?" Theresa gasped, her hands covering her mouth in disbelief.

"Indeed, it is," Richard said, stepping closer to present it to her. "You've taken to riding like a duck to water, and that old saddle hardly does justice to your skill."

"Mr. Bell, I… I don't know what to say," Theresa stammered, her fingers tracing the intricate stitching of the saddle.

"Say you'll continue to ride with us," he suggested warmly. "And perhaps assist me with training the horses. Your natural ability could be invaluable."

"Train the horses?" she echoed, wonder lacing her tone.

"Quite so. We're teaching the cavalry chargers to remain calm amidst loud noises, and having them accustomed to a lady's side saddle is beneficial. You'd be an excellent model for gentleness and control."

"Mr. Bell, this is the kindest gift," Theresa said, her voice thick with emotion. "I would be honoured to help in any way I can."

"Then it's settled," Richard declared, a smile crinkling the corners of his blue eyes.

As he left her with the new saddle, Theresa's heart swelled with a sense of purpose and gratitude.

Theresa's days at Belle Haven were each more vibrant and fragrant than the last. Her mornings were spent in the saddle, the crisp autumn breezes tousling her mousy hair as she coached the horses over fences with a grace that belied her once humble station. The chargers responded to her gentle touch, their massive bodies gliding beneath her with the elegance of dancers.

"Easy now, Bucephalus," she cooed to a once skittish stallion, guiding him calmly past the clatter of pots and pans orchestrated by Richard to test the horse's mettle. "There's a brave boy."

"Miss Wilkes, you truly have a way with them!" Richard would call out, admiration tinging his voice as he watched from the rail.

Afternoons brought lessons with the girls, where Theresa's patient instruction nurtured not only their young minds but also the tender shoots of sisterhood between them. She would often catch herself smiling as Clara recited her times tables or when Anna triumphantly deciphered a particularly challenging word in her reading.

"Like this, Miss Wilkes?" Anna asked one day, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scratched careful letters onto her slate.

"Exactly like that, my dear," Theresa replied, her voice full of pride.

The crispness of winter ushered in Yuletide, casting Belle Haven in a magical glow that seemed to radiate from every snow-kissed stone.

"Look, Miss Wilkes!" Eliza exclaimed, tugging at the skirt of Theresa's dress as she led her to the towering Christmas tree in the great hall. "Papa put a star atop!"

"Did he now?" Theresa marvelled, gazing up at the glittering emblem that crowned the fir.

"Indeed, I did," Richard chimed in, emerging from the shadows with a twinkle reminiscent of the starlight itself. "And it is only fitting, for you have been our guiding star, Theresa."

"Mr. Bell, I… I don't know what to say," she stammered, the familiar flush of shyness colouring her cheeks.

"Say nothing," he replied warmly, guiding her to join the circle of family and friends gathered around the piano. "Just be here with us."

As the melody of ‘Good King Wenceslas' filled the room, Theresa's gaze swept over the faces illuminated by the flickering candlelight – the girls singing with abandon, Mrs. Babcock humming tunelessly along, and Richard watching her with an unspoken promise of more Yuletides to come. In that moment, with the notes floating up to the rafters and the laughter echoing off the walls, Theresa realised that she had found her place in the world – not as a lonely orphan, but as a cherished member of this chosen family.

"Happy Christmas, Miss Wilkes," whispered Anna, slipping her small hand into Theresa's.

"Happy Christmas, my loves," Theresa whispered back, her heart full to bursting as she squeezed their hands in hers. And as the snow continued to fall gently outside, blanketing the world in silence, the joy within Belle Haven rang out clear and true, sealing Theresa's newfound sense of home.

After the New Year, as the snow still lingered on the sprawling grounds of Belle Haven, Richard prepared for a journey to London. He had been tasked with delivering a group of fine cavalry horses to Horse Guards headquarters, a responsibility he took great pride in. His heart swelled as he looked upon the majestic creatures, their breath visible in the crisp winter air. These horses were the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. The sight was bittersweet, however; he couldn't help but feel pride in the magnificent creatures he had raised, but his heart also ached at the thought of where they were headed. Too many of them would not return from Europe's battlefields.

"Mr. Bell!" called out a young groom, appearing from the stable with a final horse in tow. "This one's ready for you."

"Thank you, Thomas," Richard replied. Several grooms were accompanying him on the journey, each of them riding one horse and leading a string of three or four more.

"Safe journey, sir," a soft voice said, and he turned to see Theresa approaching, her brown eyes filled with concern, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders against the wintry air.

"I'll be fine, Theresa," he assured her. "It's only a few days' journey, and I shall return as soon as I can."

"Your daughters will miss you," she said softly, looking down at her feet.

"I know," Richard admitted, his expression sobering. "But I have absolute trust in you to take care of them while I'm gone." He reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You've been a godsend to us all, Theresa. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Thank you, sir," Theresa murmured, her cheeks flushing with pleasure at his words. "I promise I won't let you down."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Richard replied, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "Theresa," he said suddenly, turning back to her. "I want you to know how much it means to me that you've become a part of our family. The girls love you deeply."

"Thank you, Mr. Bell," Theresa replied, her voice thick with emotion. "It's been a privilege to work with you and your daughters. I've never been happier."

"Neither have we," Richard said sincerely. And then, knowing he could delay no longer, he reluctantly turned away from her and mounted his horse, a bay stallion he'd been working with since dedicating Ballerina to Theresa's use. With a flick of his reins, the string of horses began to move, their hooves echoing on the hard ground as they carried him away from the only place he had ever wanted to be.

As they passed through the gates of Belle Haven, Richard allowed himself a moment to look back at the estate that had been his family home for generations. Though the cold morning air made the familiar fa?ade appear almost ethereal, he knew that warmth and love awaited him upon his return. A single figure stood at the door, watching, and a smile curved his lips. Theresa would take care of everything until he returned. His girls could not be in better hands.

"London awaits," he whispered to himself, his breath misting in the frosty air.

Upon their arrival in London, Richard was greeted with astonishment and admiration by the officers at Horse Guards headquarters. They marvelled at the beauty and strength of his horses, their eyes wide with wonder as they stroked the animals' shining coats and felt the power beneath their fingertips.

"Mr. Bell," one officer began, a note of awe in his voice, "these are truly exceptional creatures. We're fortunate to have them in our ranks."

"Thank you, sir," Richard replied humbly, feeling a twinge of pride deep within his chest. "It has been my honour to raise them, and I know they will serve you well."

As he watched the officers lead his beloved horses away, Richard couldn't help but feel a pang of loss. He knew that each of them had been destined for greatness, but parting with them was always difficult. Nevertheless, he took comfort in the knowledge that they would now play a vital role in the defence of their country—a legacy that would undoubtedly outlive them all.

"Until we meet again," he whispered, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Mr. Bell," an officious voice said, and he turned to see a young officer holding out a folded note. "I have a summons for you here."

"A summons?" Richard frowned, puzzled, as he accepted the note and broke the seal. Unfolding the paper, his jaw dropped as he read.

"To see the Prince Regent?" he said, flabbergasted, looking up at the officer.

"I'm to escort you to St. James' Palace now, sir. If you would follow me?"

Richard didn't suppose he had much choice. His heart beat faster with each step he took, unable to fathom why he had been summoned to such an esteemed location.

As they traversed the hallowed halls of the palace, Richard marvelled at the ornate tapestries and masterful paintings adorning the walls. He swallowed hard, anxiety knotting in his stomach as he wondered what awaited him behind the heavy oak doors that lay ahead.

"His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, awaits you in the audience chamber," a footman announced, pushing open the doors to reveal a room bathed in golden light. At the far end, seated upon a velvet-cushioned throne, sat the Prince himself, surrounded by courtiers. Richard bowed deeply as he was announced to the company, acutely aware of the weight of the moment.

"Ah, Mr. Bell," the Prince Regent greeted him warmly, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest. "I have heard much about your remarkable horses, and I must say, the officers have been singing their praises. It seems they are highly sought after among the upper ranks of the cavalry."

"Your Highness, I am truly honoured by your words," Richard stammered. "It has been my life's work to breed and train the finest horses in England, and I am humbled that they have found favour with such distinguished gentlemen."

"Indeed," the Prince agreed, his voice resonating throughout the chamber. "And it is for this very reason that I have decided to bestow upon you a most prestigious honour—knighthood, for your invaluable services to our great country."

"Knighthood?" Richard repeated, his eyes wide and disbelieving. "I—I don't know what to say, Your Highness. This is beyond anything I could have ever imagined."

"Say nothing, Mr. Bell," the Prince Regent replied with a smile. "Your actions speak far louder than any words ever could. Now, kneel before me and receive the accolade you so richly deserve."

As he knelt before the Prince, feeling the cold steel of the sword touch his shoulders, Richard's thoughts turned to Theresa and his daughters. They had become the guiding force in his life, their love and support giving him the strength to persevere in the face of overwhelming adversity.

"Rise, Sir Richard Bell," the Prince proclaimed, his voice ringing with authority.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Richard managed, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise to continue serving my country and providing only the finest horses for our cavalry."

"Excellent," the Prince beamed. "My brother Frederick, the Duke of York, has acquired one of your Belle Haven horses, you know," he confided with a gleam in his eye. "He speaks quite highly of its prowess and even claims it to be the finest horse he's ever ridden."

"Your Highness honours me with such words," Richard replied, trying to contain the swell of pride that threatened to overtake him. The knowledge that his horses were now appreciated by royalty brought a sense of deep satisfaction.

"Which brings me to my next point," the Prince continued, straightening up and gesturing towards a grand map of England that hung on the wall nearby. "A military academy is being built at Sandhurst, where we will train the finest infantry and cavalry officers in the land. I cannot think of anyone more suitable than you, Sir Richard, to provide the horses for our future leaders."

Richard's heart swelled with both excitement and trepidation. The responsibility was immense, but so too was the opportunity to showcase the exceptional qualities of Belle Haven horses to the highest echelons of society.

"Your Highness," Richard began, his gaze returning to meet the Prince's expectant eyes, "I am deeply honoured by your trust in me and would be delighted to accept this commission. Belle Haven horses shall proudly serve the future officers of Sandhurst."

"Excellent!" the Prince exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I knew I could count on you, Sir Richard. Your dedication to your craft is admirable, and I have no doubt that the Sandhurst officers will be equally impressed."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Richard replied with a bow, his heart racing at the prospect of this new endeavour. He would dedicate himself to providing only the finest horses for Sandhurst, ensuring that each animal was worthy of the brave men who would ride them into battle.