The Prince's Secret (Prince Harry Fanfic)

Part 40 - Horses and Hounds

Samantha

Harry insisted that we go to sleep early because, as he said, "Hunting starts way too damn early in the morning, but it's worth it."

We ate dinner late that night, after a few hours getting reacquainted in bed. So after dinner and some more cuddling by the fireplace, we retired to bed again, ostensibly to sleep, but when the alarm went off the next morning I knew I'd gotten far less sleep than I would have liked.

I lifted my head and looked at the window, barely gray with pre-dawn light. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, burrowing down under the covers again.

"It is so tempting just to stay here next to you," Harry murmured, his hand finding my bare skin under all the blankets.

"Yes," I agreed, kissing him.

"But we can't," he announced, jumping out of bed and throwing off the covers. I squealed at the cold air and snatched at the blankets wildly, but Harry yanked them all off the bed, balled them up in a huge pile, and tossed them in a corner. "We can't be late to the hunt. That's a big no-no."

"The housekeeper is going to hate you," I observed, finding my fluffy bathrobe and yanking it on. "And I'm not too fond of you either right now."

"There is no housekeeper this weekend. Just me and you. We'll sort the blankets out later. Tonight," he said, grabbing the belt of my robe and drawing me closer, "Tonight we will have as much time as you like to relax and play and..."

"And...?" I prompted, drawing his head down for a kiss.

"Eat popcorn and watch movies on the big screen TV?" he teased. "Dig for buried treasure by moonlight? No—wait, I've got it—we could sneak into the churchyard at midnight and look for ghosts."

I shut him up with another kiss. "Although I have to admit...those all sound like fun things to do with you. Besides the obvious fun thing I like to do with you."

"If we don't stop kissing, we'll never leave this bedroom," Harry warned.

"I know."

He gave me one last long lingering kiss, then stepped away deliberately, running his hands through his hair till the ginger curls stood out crazily. "Right now, let's get some breakfast and get dressed, then get down to the stables and have a look at the horses. Moira says her black gelding will be perfect for you."

Breakfast was a hurried affair—some delicious pastries from a local bakery, sandwiches slapped together with bagels and leftover roast from the night before, and thankfully, fresh coffee made by a thoughtful Duncan. Before I knew it Harry and I were clattering down the back steps in buff breeches, boots, and black coats, my hair braided and netted. My breath made clouds as we trotted down the gravel drive to the stables holding hands.

"It's about a twenty minute ride from here to the hunt meet," Harry said as we reached the stable. "The Howards picked this place partly because it is so close to the fixtures. We can call for the lorry to bring the horses back afterwards—they'll probably be too tired to make the trip back."

"I may be too tired to make the trip back," I said.

Harry smiled down at me. "Well, yes, there's that too."

In the stable three horses waited, braided and ready to be tacked up—a tall bay, a black with a small white star on his forehead, and a chestnut mare with a wide blaze. "Take your pick," Harry said. "They're all experienced hunters who'll give you a good ride."

It was like asking the impossible, expecting me to choose between the three. "Which one do you want?" I asked Harry, trying to defer the decision.

He shook his head and waggled a finger at me. "Nope, not going to decide for you. But don't take all day or we'll be late."

Moira's horse, the black gelding, was a bit shorter than the other two, about sixteen hands. He turned his head to nibble at my pocket, looking for treats while I was trying to decide, and that tipped the scales in his favor. "This one."

"Good choice," Harry said, nodding to the waiting grooms to bring out the tack. "His name's Choco. He's the calmest of the three and probably the least likely to dump your arse over a hedge and laugh at you from the other side. Unlike this boy—" he rubbed the bay's ears, "who I will have a hard time holding back. He may get to feeling devilish if there's not enough galloping for his liking."

We helped the grooms tack up, and I was surprised when they saddled the third horse as well. I gave Harry a quizzical look.

"Simon will ride with us," he said with a laugh. "Duncan doesn't mind driving, but he draws the line at riding."

We mounted up in the stable yard, using a huge old stone green with moss and age. "It's for good luck," Harry explained, swinging lightly from the block into the saddle. "It's been at Lainsworth for a couple hundred years. Legend has it that no one who's used it to mount up before a hunt has ever died from a fall."

"Well, that's encouraging," I said. I could have mounted the black horse easily using only the stirrup, but who was I to risk death in the hunt field? I settled in the saddle and adjusted my stirrups. "Are we ready?"

"Just one more thing," Harry pulled a flask out of the inside of his coat. "Just a wee nip before we start out warms up for the ride," he said, offering the flask to me.

I took a small sip and passed it on to Simon. As the heat flowed through me, I asked, "What is that?"

"Percy Special," Harry said with a smile, taking a larger sip than I had. "Whiskey and cherry brandy. It's supposed to be half-and-half, but I tend to go heavier on the whiskey."

"Glad I didn't take a big gulp," I said.

"Trust me, there will be plenty of flasks passed around today. Best to go easy on the flask until the hunt is over," Harry agreed.

The sun began to burn off the fog as we trotted down the nearly-empty roads and lanes. Harry took the fore, leading the horses in a gentle canter to warm up before dropping back next to me, slowing to a trot so we could talk.

"You look nervous," he observed.

"Let's see...I'm riding an unknown horse, over unknown country, with unknown people, and I'm about to do it at a raging gallop part of the time, jumping who knows what, following a bunch of hounds who are following the scent of a fake fox. Oh, and I've got a very cute guy at my side that I'm hoping to impress, not embarrass myself by falling off in some dipsy-doodle way, losing my borrowed horse in the process. I don't see why I could possibly be nervous."

Harry laughed loudly, and the horses flicked their ears. "You'll be fine. Once the horses start galloping and you've taken that first fence, you'll get your blood up and forget all your worries."

"You've never even seen me ride," I said. "I could be a disaster waiting to happen."

He shook his head. "I've watched you around the polo ponies, and I was checking you out just now—"

"Checking me out?"

Harry smiled. "You know what I mean. You've got a good seat—"

"Like I've never heard that one before."

"...and great hands. I've no doubt you'll be amazing riding to the hounds. Besides," he said, dropping his voice and nudging his horse a bit closer, "Didn't you know that hunting is a great aphrodisiac? I bet when we get back to the house this afternoon, you'll be wanting to ride something other than a horse."