Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“What. The. Fuck,” Sage muttered, only to add, “Holy shit!” when the full might of the mansion came into view.
Mila giggled. “That’s where the Knighton family lives.”
“All of them?” I asked.
“Yes. As far as I know they have a wing each,” Mila said. “But they’re very private people, and the staff and riders don’t go inside.”
“Stuck-up assholes,” Sage uttered under her breath, and I elbowed her in her ribs before Mila overheard. Sage folded her arms across her chest. Her grudge against Atticus Knighton consumed her.
When we were eighteen, Atticus came to Silvercrest to train and compete. The minute they met, they were a collision of flames, always bickering and sniping at one another. It became their favorite game. To be near them was to feel their undeniable chemistry. But when Atticus left my aunt’s stable yard to return home, he took all the affection Sage had toward him too. Weeks after he left, when I couldn’t take her sullen mood anymore, I dragged her to the hay loft, and we drank our weight in wine. Drunk off her ass, Sage admitted she and Atticus had fucked. When she found out he had fucked another visiting rider only days later, her want for him turned into blind hatred.
I regarded Atticus as a friend back then. I still did. What he did to Sage was wrong, and I wanted to punch him for hurting her. But she was eighteen, and he was only a year older. We were all stupid teens back then. But if you crossed Sage, you would never be granted her forgiveness. And he never had.
I studied the mansion. It certainly looked big enough for a football team of people to live there and barely see one another if they didn’t want to. It was so stunning, like Downton Abbey or some period drama, all ancient gray stone, diamond-patterned lead windows, and English ivy devouring its facade. Four towering, ornate columns stood like protective sentinels at the entrance, and an old oak, arched door led the way inside.
“Here we are,” Mila said, and I tore my gaze from the mansion to look to my right. A wide smile immediately pulled on my lips. A small grouping of sweet cottages was tucked into what looked like an orchard of fruit trees. Their branches were bare now, but I could only imagine what they’d look like when they were in full bloom.
The cluster of homes were quaint and beautiful and made me think of my childhood books by Beatrix Potter. But these “cottages” were far from small. They were all interlinked, with the same diamond-patterned lead windows, gray stone, and ivy-covered walls as the main house. They were like miniature models of the real thing.
“You each get a home to yourself—bedroom, bathroom, et cetera, but there’s a huge communal kitchen and dining area that is the heart of all four properties. For now, there’s just you both residing here, but we are expecting two more female riders later in the season.”
“Who?” Sage asked, bluntly as always.
Mila smiled excitedly. “Clara Thompson, the great British dressage rider, and Lenora Ackland from the British eventing team.”
“We know Lenora, somewhat,” Sage said with an approving nod. “She’s good people.”
It was true. Lenora had been at some of the same training facilities as Sage and me over the past few years. But we had never met Clara Thompson, though I knew who she was. The professional horse world was small once you were in it—a goldfish bowl. Clara was the most beautiful rider to watch in the dressage arena, the only exception being Felix Knighton.
The ATV carrying our luggage pulled up behind us, and the young men who met us at the gatehouse took them to two adjoined cottages. Victoria jumped out of their ATV too. “Sage, you’re in Snowdrop,” she said and pointed to her cottage. “And Hallie, you’re in Buttercup.” A small smile pulled on my lips at the cottages’ cute names. I glanced at the others, seeing name plates on their respective doors reading “Daisy” and “Daffodil.”
Victoria opened the doors, then handed us our keys. “Both have been stocked with new towels, fresh sheets, and toiletries. The kitchen has been stocked with food and drinks too.” Sage nudged my arm with hers and shot me an approving nod. In our careers, we’d had some accommodations that could be deemed just above wild camping. I should’ve known that Knighton Equestrian would only provide the best for their riders. Nothing this famous family did was inferior.
“We put in grocery orders twice a week, so please just fill out the form in the kitchen when you want to add something.” Victoria reached into her pocket. She pulled out two car keys. “You also each have a car while you are here.” Victoria nudged her head forward, gesturing to a couple of brand-new black Land Rover Defenders in the parking spots to the side of the cottages.