Dedication
For Isadora, who was just a baby when I wrote my first book and is now old enough to apply for Blainford Academy. I hope your future is full of ponies and happiness.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
About the Author
The Pony Club Rivals series
Copyright
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Chapter One
D ominic Blackwell was a phenomenon. Blessed with aristocratic good looks and a talent for magically coaxing a clear round out of the most temperamental and difficult horses, he was the rock star of the showjumping circuit. His fans utterly adored him. Girls had posters of him on their bedroom walls and in his hometown of Kentucky, he often got a standing ovation when he entered the arena.
“They wouldn’t be so mad about the big jerk if they actually knew him,” his head girl, Louise, muttered under her breath. She was waiting anxiously in the wings of the Kentucky Horse Park stadium, holding the reins of Dominic Blackwell’s big grey stallion, Maximillion, looking out at the crowd of more than ten thousand in the grandstand. Any moment now Dominic was due to ride his crucial final speed round on Maxi. The only problem was, he was nowhere to be seen.
A sudden roar rose up from the crowd in the stadium and the voice of announcer Jilly Jones came over the loudspeaker.
“An unfortunate four faults for Penny Simpson on Delphine! And now our last rider in this final speed round; Dominic Blackwell on Revel’s Maximillion.”
They were calling him into the ring! Louise’s eyes scanned the warm-up area, her heart racing. Where was Dominic? She’d sent Frannie the junior groom off to find him and now Frannie had disappeared too! Now Louise was stuck here, holding on to the enormous grey Holsteiner. Any minute now they would be disqualifying her boss for failing to turn up and…
“Louise!”
It was Dominic at last. He was striding towards her over the soft sawdust of the warm-up arena, a dark scowl on his face, with Frannie scurrying along in his wake looking flushed with anxiety.
“Why aren’t you onboard Maxi warming him up?” he snarled.
“What?” Louise was horrified. Dominic had given her specific orders that on no account was she allowed to ride Maxi, however, she knew that contradicting her boss wasn’t an option.
“I’m sorry, Dominic,” she said and swallowed her pride.
“Use your common sense,” Dominic Blackwell snarled at his head groom. “I’m going to have to take him into the ring cold now.”
He snatched the reins out of her hand and glared at Frannie who was standing by nervously. “Well, come on, girl! Leg me up!”
Frannie gave a grunt as she lifted the man who was almost twice her size into the saddle and he jabbed her in the face with his knee. Without an apology or backwards glance, Dominic Blackwell wheeled the grey stallion about and headed into the ring.
The two grooms watched as their boss entered the arena to thunderous applause. A moment ago Dominic had a face like thunder, but as soon as he was in front of the crowds he was the smiling, cheerful Dominic Blackwell that fans knew and adored. He gave a friendly wave to the grandstand as he did a lap around the perimeter.
“And here he is,” Jilly Jones trilled, “Local Kentucky boy and a former pupil of Blainford Academy, Dominic Blackwell. You may have noticed his red jacket; that denotes his status as a member of the United States international showjumping team. Dominic is only twenty-eight years of age but he has already won gold at the last Olympics and the horse he is riding today looks set to compete at the next games in Rome. Many are calling this horse the best in his stable, the ten-year-old stallion Revel’s Maximillion!”
In the wings of the stadium, Louise felt sick as she watched her boss ride towards the first fence. The fences in this Grand Prix arena were the full height of a metre sixty and even a horse with the class and grace of Maxi required a warm-up to get over jumps of that height.
Maxi made a plucky attempt at the first fence but he took down the top rail with his hind legs. The crowd let out an audible cry of dismay. Louise kept her eyes glued on Dominic’s expression. His smile had slipped a bit but he still had his game face on. He came into the second fence and rode it perfectly, but yet again Maxi dragged a hind leg and another rail went down. Dominic’s smile was replaced by a grimace. He turned the grey towards the next fence – a very wide red and green striped oxer – and rode at it for all he was worth. Maxi cleared this one with a grunt of effort and before they had even landed Dominic was looking to the next fence. In three quick strides they were at the blue and white upright. It was also set at the maximum height of a metre sixty but Maxi flew it with air to spare. The big grey was in the groove now and he took the wide, wide spread of the water jump with ease, popped the double with no trouble, put in a brilliant leap over the Swedish oxer and came in on a perfect stride to the triple. The last two fences gave him no problems either and he was home through the flags on a time of one minute and twenty-three seconds.
“It’s a good time,” Jilly Jones told the crowds, “but with those early eight faults it doesn’t matter. Dominic Blackwell and Revel’s Maximillion slip all the way down the leaderboard to ninth place and out of contention for the considerable prize money and the trophy here at Kentucky.”
Waiting in the wings, Louise steeled herself for the worst. In the three months that she had been working as head girl for Dominic Blackwell she had never seen her boss lose. The expression on his face was fearful as he rode out of the arena, his eyes black with fury.
Frannie reached out a hand to take Maxi’s reins, expecting Dominic to slow down, but he trotted straight at her and she had to leap aside to let Maxi past! Both girls cast a glance at each other and then began to run after the big Holsteiner.
When they had reached the sanctuary of the stable block, Dominic performed a flying dismount and threw the reins at a puffed, exhausted Frannie.
He was still bristling with uncontrollable, violent anger, but he managed to resist taking it out on his horse. Instead, he stormed off in a huff and, out of sight of the other riders or crowds, he began to thrash at the ground with his riding crop. In a blind rage he rained down blow after blow until the whip broke in his hand, then Dominic dropped to his knees, a spent force exhausted by his own fury.
His two grooms knew better than to try and comfort him. “Let’s get out of here…” Louise told Frannie.
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