Page 26 of Valentine Nook
I don’t know why I haven’t banned him from the yard because I’m convinced productivity drops by fifty percent when he’s around. On the flip side, I don’t need to ask anyone to bringus coffees because they’re already being brought over by someone who’s going to trip on something if she doesn’t stop staring at Miles instead of paying attention to where she’s going.
“Coffee, Your Grace, my lords.”
“Thanks.” I nod to her with a smile, though she’s obviously not looking at me.
“This is perfect. Thank you.” Miles flashes a smile that is way less professional than I care for, and I swear she swoons. She’s walking away, backward, mind you, because god forbid she wastes an opportunity to stare at Miles when he calls her again. “Also, could you call over to the yard and let them know I’m running a little late? Ask them to get Chester ready. I want to stick and ball with him.”
“Oh yes, absolutely, sir. No problem. I’ll do it now, sir.”
Foxleigh Park, the polo yard that Miles runs with his own team of stable hands, is a couple of miles across the fields and where you can find him when he’s not causing havoc elsewhere.
Amazingly, even though Miles is chaos personified, the polo yard is run with an unarguable attention to detail. There isn’t a speck of hay out of place. The ponies are treated like Olympic athletes. Their diets are closely monitored, and their exercise schedules are strictly regimented.
“Thank you,” he replies, watching her as she hurries off as quickly as possible without breaking into a run.
The number one rule of any yard is no running. You never know what will be coming around the corner.
Bringing the cup to my lips, I sip while my to-do list floods my brain. Calving season might be over, but that just means something else moves to the top.
“Hey, I ran into Eddie this morning,” Miles says, and I groan because I know where it’s heading. “He wants to know if you’re playing in the cricket match at the summer fair. Henners and Iare on The One True Love team this year, and Al is playing for The Cupid’s Arrow.”
The Valentine Nook Summer Fair is held in the field next to the cricket pitch. It’s an eventful weekend with a hive of activity from music and food to games and competitions. When the weather’s good, we can get ten thousand visitors across the weekend.
However, the summer fair, like the Christmas fair, is run by a committee, overseen every year by one member of my family. It’s my least favorite thing about Valentine Nook, and no matter how often I’ve tried to change it, I get voted down every time.
But this year, I reallyreallydon’t want to head it up. Because this year was supposed to be Caroline’s year. Her first time as my wife and an official member of the Burlington family.
Six months on and the looks of pity still haven’t stopped. Nor have the sympathetic head nods and understanding smiles.
I see them every time I’m walking down the high street, and people stop me to ask how I’m doing. I hear them whisper as I pass. Even though I try my best to block it out, late at night, I wonder how many of them knew about her and Jeremy.
And the summer fair will bring it all back a thousand times over.
I shake my head in disappointment. “I can’t?—”
“Lando—”
“I’m head of the committee this year,” I interrupt before Miles starts up his usual argument about how I’m too weighed down in duty to have fun. Easy to say when you’re the youngest son with zero responsibility. I peer between my brothers with pleading eyes. “But I’ll give you ten thousand pounds if you swap with me.”
“Nope. I did it last year.”
“C’mon, Milo. You’re way better at judging all the competitions than I am.”
“I know, but I’m still not doing it.” He grins. “I want to win the cricket match. Ask Alex. When’s he back, by the way?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Max is entering Sherbet in ‘Best Turned Out Pony,’” Hendricks says, leaning against the wall. “We had to order red wraps because he wants him to match his Spider-Man costume.”
It’s amazing how quickly my bad mood can appear these days. “Well, if I’m judging, you’ll need to warn Max he can’t expect favorable treatment.”
Even Hendricks, who’s usually too laid-back to react to anything, is momentarily taken aback by my snapping. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Lando’s still sulking because of the starlet in Bluebell, remember?” Miles answers for me, unhelpfullyanduntruthfully, but I don’t bother correcting him. “Have you seen her yet?”
Hendricks shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Me either. Although I watched one of her movies with Clemmie the other night. It was good,” he says and turns to me. “What’s she like, Lan?”
