11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

To Newmarket

I t helped Fred to be preoccupied; having long conversations with Henry on the topic of horses; the different breeds of horses; the distinguishing differences; the preferred horse for saddle riding as opposed to coach horses; what to look for; and who to buy from. Fred could talk for hours about horses, lucky for him, as he did not wish to think, let alone talk about Lady Margaret or how extremely crop sick he felt.

When the coach got close to Cambridge, Fred knocked on the roof. Max pulled over and stepped down from his coachman’s seat to see Lord Fredrick. “Yes, My lord?”

“Do you remember the coffee house where we usually stop?”

“Yes, my lord. The Dockerell’s Coffee House , on Trumpington Street.”

“That is the one. We can stop there, get something to eat, and rest the horses.”

“Yes, my lord.”

They stepped into the coffee house and the owner, Mr. Dockerell, ran to the front to welcome the two. “My lord, it has been so long since your last visit. I’m pleased to see you.” He bowed, drawing the patrons’ attention who were typically university administrators, and faculty or students. The owner made sure Fred and Henry were seated at the best table. The waiter quick to see to their needs. Henry ordered the daily fare with an ale. Fred ordered a whole stein of black coffee.

Fred looked severely Friday-faced. “Fred, are you still crop-sick?” Fred’s face looked alarming to Henry.

Reticent, Fred sipped his coffee and prayed his head would return to a normal size. He thought how pleased Margaret would be to know his suffering was directly due to his convoluted thoughts of her.

“You must have fallen in the bottle after I retired. Had I known, I would have accompanied you. No man is meant to suffer alone.” Henry said as sarcastically as possible. Fred only looked at him over the rim of his stein. As Henry had been a friend of Fred’s since Eton, he had an insight as to the source of Fred’s oppression by indisposition. One word – Margaret. Far be it for Henry to broach the subject again. After two large steins of black coffee and the amusement of the entire wait staff, Fredrick appeared to have regained his equilibrium.

When they arrived at Windham Horse and Stud Farm , Fred fought to keep his eyes open. He wanted a nice place to lie down, close his eyes, and wake up with it being two days ago so he could change the entire scenario. Like a fairy tale.

The Windham horse farm had been in Newmarket for four or five generations. The farm had a sterling reputation and it was his responsibility to ensure that it remained that way. He needed to speak with the broodmare manager, Wilbur Fisk, first. Fred’s main reason for traveling to the farm at this time had to do with the collection of pertinent information. It looked promising for the foals and yearlings. Wilbur sat down with Fred and went down the list of each of the foals and yearlings. Then, with the list in his hands, Wilbur walked him through the barns and stables for Fred to physically look over each animal. Wilbur’s assessment lined up perfectly with Fred’s, perhaps even more detailed. His assessments had better be; Fred paid him well enough.

They rode into Newmarket to eat at The Jockey Club ; an excellent place to ignite interest in his foals, yearlings, and two-year-olds. Most of his yearlings sold quickly. Always good news to Fredrick. Turnover made the difference in the bottom line.

After eating, Fred returned to the farm to speak with the stallion manager, Tony Lester. Henry asked to go through the stables with one of the stable boys. When Fred walked into Tony’s office. Right away, the conversation led to the most important reason for the trip.“We have four that are close and three more that should be coming into heat in a month, maybe six weeks.”

“So who is the stallion?” Fred knew who he wanted. He hoped the stallion or the stallions he wanted were the same ones Tony wanted.

“Hambletonian would be perfect for three of our mares. Another stud I would like for you to consider is Diamond. He is a strong stallion. He has done well and I expect he will continue to do well. I like him. Another advantage of using this horse is that I know the trainer and the breeder. I have another one in my pocket if you are not interested in the first two.” Fred had paperwork in his lap; he looked over a couple of pages as Tony waited for a response.

“Yes, my lord. I think we will be able to get a pretty good price for him as well.” Fred's mind kept wandering. He thought Margaret would be fascinated with the horse farm. What am I thinking? You are either in or out, ole boy. You cannot play middle of the road with this beauty.

He talked to Tony about a few minor details, then went in search of Henry, who he found in the stables speaking with the farm manager, Jamie Hart. “Well, I wis wonderin’ when ye’d come tae speak with mi.” Jamie was a Scot.

“I planned to see you on my way out. Now, I can speak with you right here.” Jamie bowed, then Fredrick extended his hand and Jamie took it. “It is good to see you, old friend.”

“Aye, ‘tis guid tae see ye. I ken ye been warkin’ in Town, but ye need tae bi comin’ here mair aften, mi laird.” Jamie gave Lord Fredrick a friendly reprimand.

“You are correct, Jamie. I will be coming more often. It is breeding time, after all.” Fred walked over to a mare in a stall, spoke to her sweetly, and petted her nose. “Is there any irregularity in the books, expenses, or income I need to know about? Something not yet on the books?”

“Nae, mi laird. Tis vury guid here. Nae bother at aw. Ye’ll ken if there’s a bother.”

“Yes, I believe you. Well, I’m going to be leaving in the next few minutes." Somehow, get closer to that raven-haired beauty . "If there is anything you need or want, ask now, before I go .” I want raven hair wrapped around the head of my cock – no, Fred. Stop those kinds of thoughts, damn it.

“Henry.” Fred canted his head in the direction of the exit. “Jamie, I will see you soon.”

“Aye, mi lard. Ah, houp sae.” Jamie walked away in the direction of his office. He turned around and called out to Lord Fredrick. “Bide safe, mi laird!”

“Aye, Jamie. You too.” Fred hollered back, then led Henry toward the coach.

“Where to now?” Henry, more than ready to sit down. Have a drink. Smoke a cheroot.

“I want to head back. You don’t mind, do you?” Fred did not care if Henry minded or not. He wanted to go home. An hour after they arrived, Fred had already made up his mind to quickly take care of the necessary business and return home. He wondered what she might be doing. Was she going to a ball? Who was she dancing with? Yes, he was going straight home.

“That is fine. Whatever you want to do. I’m riding.” They got to the coach and Fred opened the cabin door to see Ben sleeping.

“Ben? Ben?” Fred hesitated to jar him.

Ben darted up. “Yes, my lord. Pardon me, my lord. We thought you would be here until dusk, so Max went to use the necessary and to get a cup of tea or coffee, whatever they had. He left about thirty minutes ago, so he should be here any minute.”

“That is fine, Ben. Lord Addams and I will sit in the cabin until he arrives. We will be heading back. I'd rather sleep in my own bed if I can.” That was not necessarily true. For some strange reason, he felt the need to be in Town – close to her.

“I understand, my lord. I’m much the same way, if I may be so bold.” Ben had his hat in his hand and looked down.

“It is fine, Ben. I think most people would rather sleep in their own bed. What say you, Henry?” Fredrick asked.

“I agree. I love my bed. Going back to Town is fine with me.” Henry stepped up into the cabin.

Fred followed. “I think we should open the basket. We only ate a small portion of the food that Cook packed.”

“Sounds good to me.” Henry had those hunger pangs. They had done nothing but eat all day.

The two ate the treats Cook packed, drank their coffee and tea, and talked about the events of the day. About fifteen minutes after they had returned to the coach, Max arrived. He knocked on the coach cabin door. Fredrick told him they were returning home. Max seemed pleased. He stepped up onto the coachman’s seat with Ben, and they headed for home.