Barbara Cartland: This Is Love

The Master of the Horse is esteemed as the third great Officer at Court, giving place only to the Lord Steward and the Lord Chamberlain of the Royal Household.

Formerly this Officer was called ‘Constable, and held much more power than his successors of today.

He now has the charge of ordering and disposing of all matters relating to the Sovereign stables, races and breeds of horses and has jurisdiction over the Equerries, Pages and many others employed in his department.

At State Processions he rides next to the Sovereign and, in the case of a Queen Regnant, in the carriage with Her Majesty.

At the Coronation of Queen Victoria the Master of the Horse and the Mistress of the Robes rode in the State carriage with the Queen.

The present Master is the Duke of Westmoreland.

Historically records of the appointment started in 1391 with the first Master of the Horse, Sir John Russell.

There were four previous holders of the position starting in 1360, but Sir John Russell was the first to hold the title officially.

He served King Richard II faithfully.

Lady Athina Ling turned her horses off the main road and drove down a narrow lane.

She resented having to slacken their pace because it was growing late and she was still a long way from home.

The hedges were high and so she drove ahead with considerable care.

At the first bend of the lane, however, she was forced hastily to pull sharply at the reins as to the front of her and coming out of a field was a farm wagon.

The wagon’s horse was right across the lane and the farm yokel driving it realised somewhat belatedly that there was other traffic on the road besides himself.

He managed to turn his horse as Lady Athina was pulling in hers as hard as she could.

The chaise would just have had room to pass the farm wagon if the wagon had been pointing straight up the lane.

As it was, the lighter wheel of the chaise then crashed against that of the wagon.

The horses came to a standstill and the groom with Lady Athina jumped out.

The wheels were fortunately not locked together as they might easily have been.

But at the same time the wheel of the chaise, being the lighter of the two, was somewhat damaged.

“You was a-comin’ along too fast!” the yokel said aggressively, fearing that someone would blame him for what had happened.

“I am afraid I was,” Lady Athina replied in a soft voice, “and this lane is very narrow.”

“Folks’ve said that afore,” the yokel remarked.

Her groom came to the side of the chaise to report,

“I’m afraid, my Lady, the wheel’s been damaged. Not badly, but it’d be a mistake to try and get ’ome on it.”

“You mean we must have it mended first?” Lady Athina asked. “If we can find someone to do it.”

The yokel was listening to their conversation.

“There be a blacksmith up at The Crown and Feathers ,” he said, “and ’e be good ’un, if ’e ain’t gorn ’ome.”

“And where is The Crown and Feathers ?” Lady Athina enquired.

He pointed down the lane that she had just come along.

“It be down thar,” he said, “’tis the best Posting inn in these parts and it be on the left.”

“Thank you,” Lady Athina replied, “now please tell me where I can turn.”

He indicated ahead and the groom jumped into the chaise. Very carefully, Lady Athina tooled her two well-bred horses to where there was a wide entrance into a field. She then carefully turned the chaise round.

As they drove back past the farm wagon, the wheel of the chaise was bumping and felt somewhat unsteady.

“You are quite right, Gauntlet,” she said. “We could not reach home with it like this.”

“I’m afraid it’ll take a good hour to mend, my Lady,” Gauntlet replied.

“Well, if it does, we will just have to stay the night at the Posting inn.”

There was then a poignant silence and Lady Athina knew that he disapproved of the idea.

Gauntlet had been with her father since she was a child and now that he had died, Gauntlet looked after her almost possessively as if she was one of his own children.

“It’s no use being disapproving,” she said after a moment when he did not speak. “I know that I should have a chaperone, but then you are far more effective than even Mrs. Beckwith could be.”

“People’d be shocked, my Lady, if they knowed you was a-stayin’ in a public inn without Mrs. Beckwith in attendance.”

Athina laughed and it was a very pretty sound.

“You are making me seem as if I was Royalty, Gauntlet! It will be only for one night and, if you think it might cause a scandal, I will not use my own name.”

She paused before she added,

“I will be ‘Mrs. Beckwith’ – and why not?”

Gauntlet made a strange sound that signified neither approval nor disapproval.

As she drove on, Athina thought just how lucky she was to have him with her.

She could always rely on him in an emergency and, if there were drunken young men at the inn who insulted or tried to be familiar with her, Gauntlet would deal with them.

The wheel was decidedly more wobbly by the time The Crown and Feathers came into view.

It was indeed, as the yokel had informed her, a large impressive Posting inn for such a sparsely inhabited part of the country.

Lady Athina was aware that there were no stately houses nearby where she might have found friends.

However, to have gone back to where she had come from would have been almost as far as going home.

She had been staying the night with an ancient aunt who had been on the verge of death for the last five years.

Athina was quite certain that she would last for at least another five before she finally arrived at the Heaven that she was convinced was waiting for her.

In the meantime she enjoyed more or less compelling her relatives to visit her.

When they arrived she tantalised them with promises of benefiting from her will and such promises were usually rescinded almost before they left.

As far as Athina herself was concerned, she wanted nothing from her aunt. However, she felt it was her duty to go when she received one of her plaintive letters starting,

“ This may be the last time that I am able to invite you to

visit me. ”

Athina had enjoyed the drive.

She had been extremely firm when her chaperone, Mrs. Beckwith, had suggested accompanying her.

“You know long drives give you a headache,” she said, “and that Aunt Muriel will treat you as if you are dust beneath her feet. She has never had any time for what she always calls ‘superfluous additions to the household’ and that I am afraid, is the category that you come into.”

They both laughed.

“Well, I know that Gauntlet will look after you,” Mrs. Beckwith commented, “and you will be away for only the one night.”

“I will be back home in good time for dinner on Tuesday,” Athina promised.

She kissed Mrs. Beckwith affectionately and, when she left, she had waved to her as she went down the drive.

Athina’s father, the Earl of Murling, had died last year.

He had left his only child a large fortune, a large house and a large estate.

What relatives there were in the vicinity had, immediately after the funeral, asked Athina which of them she intended to reside with.

Alternatively whom she would wish to come to live with her as her chaperone.

“When I looked at their faces,” Athina related to Mrs. Beckwith, “I knew that what they were really thinking was how much money Papa had left me and that it must be kept in the family.”