Page 24 of Bernadette’s Dashing Doctor (The Bookshop Belles #4)

April, 1811. Belle Haven Estate, Hampshire, England

The first rays of dawn stretched lazily across the expanse of Belle Haven’s rolling acres, casting a delicate golden light through the stable doors as Molly Bell strode in briskly, her sharp eyes scanning the rows of stalls bathed in the serene morning light. She took a deep breath, savouring the familiar, earthy scent of hay mingled with leather and the musky aroma of the horses.

"Good morning, my beauties," she murmured, reaching to stroke the nose of a pretty bay as the mare whickered a greeting. “Ready to start the day?”

With practiced efficiency, Molly moved to the feed room, her footsteps barely audible on the straw-laden floor. Her hands worked swiftly through her regular morning routine, measuring out and mixing the correct feed for each individual animal, delivering the buckets and then checking the horses over while they ate. Each task performed with a precision that spoke of years of practice and an innate understanding of her charges. The horses responded to her presence, their ears flicking forward, nostrils flaring as they acknowledged her care.

"Easy there, Apollo," she crooned to a particularly spirited chestnut, who sidled away as she stroked down to his fetlock and encouraged him to pick up a hoof. "I’m not keeping you from your breakfast."

Apollo snorted, his dark eyes following her every move as she continued her morning routine. Molly's strong, capable hands moved over the horse's coat, checking for any signs of distress or injury. Satisfied, she gave him a pat, earning only a grumpy snap of teeth in her direction for her troubles.

"You're a rascal, you know that?" she said with a chuckle. “There’ll be none of that when you get to Sandhurst, my lad. Save it for the French.”

Molly moved with fluid efficiency from stall to stall, confident around the large animals in a way that spoke of her familiarity with them. The scent of fresh hay mingled with the earthy aroma of the stables, a comforting blend that spoke of home and purpose. Each horse received a gentle touch, a murmured word, and a careful inspection.

"Easy there, Bramble," she cooed to a spirited bay mare, who tossed her head but settled under Molly's calming presence. "You're as feisty as ever, aren't you?"

Bramble nickered softly in response, nudging Molly's shoulder as if to agree. With a final pat, Molly moved on, her mind already shifting to the tasks ahead.

The preparation for delivering these horses Sandhurst was no small feat, and Molly knew every detail had to be perfect. She made her way to the tack room, where rows of bridles, saddles, and grooming kits were meticulously organised. She pulled out a well-worn ledger, flipping through pages filled with neat, precise handwriting.

"Three-year-olds for Sandhurst," she muttered to herself, running her finger down the list. "Apollo, Bramble, Thunder... all fine stock."

She checked off each name, mentally reviewing their training progress and temperaments. These horses were more than just animals to her; they were partners, each with their own quirks and strengths. Apollo's unbreakable courage, Bramble's fiery spirit, Thunder's raw power—each would play a crucial role in their destiny as war chargers for the officers of the British Army.

Molly tried not to think too hard about the brutal truth that few of the horses Belle Haven delivered annually to the Army would ever come home again once they were shipped to the Continent. After ten years, she had learned to harden her heart.

"Now, let's see about your gear," she said, moving to inspect the equipment laid out for the journey. Saddles were checked for wear, bridles polished until they gleamed, and grooming supplies packed with care. She paused to ensure every item met her exacting standards, her mind a whirl of logistics and schedules.

"Mustn't forget the medical kit," she reminded herself, tucking a small wooden box filled with salves, bandages, and other essentials into the saddlebags her own horse would carry. Her thoroughness was born of experience; she knew how quickly a minor issue could become a major problem without proper preparation.

Stepping back, she surveyed the organised chaos with a critical eye. Everything seemed in order, but there was always one more thing to consider, one more detail to perfect.

"Good morning, Molly." Clara’s soft voice broke through the rhythmic sounds of horses munching on hay and the clinking of metal harnesses.

"Morning, Clara," Molly replied, looking up to see two of her sisters approaching, Clara wearing a wistful expression. Anna trailed behind, her hands clutching a small notebook.

"Reviewing the list for Sandhurst?" Clara asked, resting one hand on the stable door as she peered inside.

"Yes," Molly said, holding up a list that detailed each horse's name, age, and condition, as well as the rider they were destined to be paired with at Sandhurst. "Just making sure everything is in order. We can't afford any mistakes - every one of the horses has been paid for already and we don’t want to have to pay anyone back!"

"Of course," Clara sighed, her eyes lingering on the list before shifting to the horses. "I wish I could come along. It seems like such an adventure, helping to get the horses settled in with their new partners!"

"Maybe next time," Molly said gently. Clara was only seventeen, to Molly’s twenty-three; Molly did not see their father allowing Clara to make the trip in the next year or two at least. "Your presence here is invaluable, you know."

"That's what everyone says," Clara laughed lightly, "but it doesn't make staying behind any easier."

"Well, I've completed the feed calculations," Anna interjected, waving her notebook slightly to catch their attention. "Each horse will have precisely the right amount for the journey and the first week at Sandhurst. No need to worry about them running out or overeating, and then you’ll have the information for Sandhurst to order the correct quantities going forward."

"Thank you, Anna," Molly said, genuinely impressed by her sister's meticulous work. She took the offered notebook and scanned the figures, nodding approvingly. "These are perfect."

"Anything to contribute," Anna said with a modest smile, but the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Clara, do you mind helping me pack the rest of the equipment?" Molly asked, turning her attention back to her eldest sister. "There's still quite a bit to organise."

"Of course," Clara agreed eagerly, stepping closer to the pile of gear. "Show me what needs to be done."

"Start with these saddles," Molly instructed. "Make sure the straps are secure and the padding is intact. And if you find any worn spots, let me know immediately."

"Got it," Clara said, rolling up her sleeves and getting to work. She handled each piece with care, her fingers tracing the leather as if committing it to memory. Anna joined her, turning a heavy saddle upside down and holding it so Clara could inspect the underside.

"Wonderful," Molly commented, feeling a surge of gratitude for her sisters' support. "I don't know what I'd do without you two."

"Well, we're a team, aren't we?" Clara said. "And even if I can't be there in person, I'll be with you in spirit."

"Same here," Anna added, her voice soft. "Just remember all our hard work when you're impressing those officers at Sandhurst."

"Believe me, I will," Molly said, her heart swelling with affection for her family. "Every step of the way."

"Good morning, girls," came a familiar voice from the stable doors.

Molly straightened up, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow as she turned to see her adoptive father, Lord Richard Bell, striding towards her. His dark hair was tousled from the breeze, and his clear blue eyes held a warmth that never failed to put her at ease.

"Good morning, Pa," she replied, a smile tugging at her lips. "I trust you slept well?"

"Indeed, I did," he said with a chuckle. "Though I must admit, thoughts of this Sandhurst delivery kept me awake longer than usual."

"Understandable," Molly said, nodding. "It's a significant undertaking."

"That it is," he agreed, stopping beside her and reaching out to give her shoulder a quick squeeze. "And I wanted to go over the logistics with you one last time before you set off. Your meticulous planning has been invaluable, as always."

"Thank you, Pa," Molly said, feeling a flush of pride. "I've made sure everything is in order. The horses are in top condition, and we've packed all necessary equipment and provisions for the journey."

"Excellent," Richard said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I have no doubt that you'll manage everything beautifully. You've always had an extraordinary way with these horses."

"Years of practice," she replied modestly. "And a deep love for them, of course."

"Which is precisely why I trust you implicitly with this task," he said, his tone serious. "Your expertise is unparalleled, Molly. Now, let's review the training schedule and the specific needs of Sandhurst."

"Of course," Molly said, reaching for a leather-bound notebook on a nearby workbench. She flipped it open to a page filled with neatly written notes and charts. "Here we are. I've outlined the training regimen for each horse based on their current progress and the requirements of Sandhurst. Of course, it will be dependent on the abilities of the recruits they are paired with, but I can’t imagine any of them will be unable to ride."

"Indeed, they will all be the sons of gentlemen; most of them will be excellent riders, though you might have a few London lads who think a gallop in Hyde Park is a hard work out. This is impressive," Richard murmured, scanning the pages. "You've considered every detail."

"Naturally," Molly replied, her eyes twinkling. "We can't afford any missteps, especially not with the reputation of Belle Haven at stake."

"Quite right," he said, nodding appreciatively. "Let's start with Thunder. He's shown remarkable improvement since his last assessment. You know I’ve no liking for breaking them in as two-year-olds; they’re not truly grown into their bodies yet, but the Army’s needs…" he trailed off with a regretful shrug.

"Thunder’s muscling up well," Molly said, her voice equally regretful for the necessities they were forced into by the exigencies of the war. "I've adjusted his regimen to include more endurance exercises, which should prepare him perfectly for the rigours of Sandhurst."

"Smart thinking," Richard said. "And what about Apollo? He had some issues with his left lead canter transition, if I recall correctly."

"Ah, Apollo," Molly said with a fond smile for the temperamental chestnut. "I've introduced a series of targeted drills to correct that transition. It's a slow process, but he's making steady progress."

"Wonderful," Richard said, his expression softening. "Your dedication is truly remarkable, Molly. I don't know how you do it."

"Passion and perseverance, Pa," she said simply. "Our precious horses deserve nothing less."

"Indeed they do," he agreed, closing the notebook and meeting her gaze. "And so do you, Molly. Your work here is invaluable. Now, let's ensure everything is ready for this journey. Sandhurst awaits, and I have no doubt you'll make us proud."

Molly knew Richard would have preferred to take the horses to Sandhurst himself, as he had every previous year for the past decade, but unfortunately, the Prince Regent had sent a letter just two days ago requesting his presence in London. Belle Haven’s very existence depended on the Prince’s continued patronage - more than once the Army had attempted to requisition the mares and stallions who were Belle Haven’s essential breeding stock - and only the Prince’s direct order had prevented it. When the Prince called, Richard had to go.

Molly, however, had assisted Richard in delivering the horses to Sandhurst and settling them in with their new partners for the last four years. She knew she could handle the job alone, and she was extremely proud Richard had agreed to let her try.

Richard nodded to Molly before heading to the stallion barn, where he would spend most of his day exercising Belle Haven’s four resident stallions, ensuring they did not get bored or frustrated in their stalls waiting for breeding season to begin. Molly was about to return to her work when she spotted Lady Theresa Bell, her best friend and adoptive mother, approaching from the manor house. She balanced a tray laden with fresh bread and steaming tea, her face lighting up as she saw Molly.

"Theresa! You’ve read my mind," Molly exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron and reaching out to take the tray.

"Well, I thought you might need a little sustenance," Theresa replied, her voice warm. "And perhaps a bit of company?"

"Always," Molly said, leading her friend to a nearby bench. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the earthy scent of hay and horses, familiar and comforting.

"How are things shaping up for the trip?" Theresa asked, pouring tea into two cups.

"Busy but smooth," Molly replied, taking a sip of the warm tea. "We’re nearly ready. We;ll be ready to leave before dawn tomorrow, with seventeen horses to deliver. With thirty-eight miles to Sandhurst, we should be there by mid-afternoon."

"That's wonderful to hear," Theresa said, her eyes twinkling. "You know, sometimes I wish I could be as brave and capable as you. I like to ride, of course, but taking a string of half-trained war horses to a military college…" She shook her head.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Theresa," Molly chided gently. "Belle Haven could not function without you at the heart of it."

"Thank you, Molly," Theresa said softly, looking down at her cup, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Here’s to safe travels and a successful season at Sandhurst."

"Indeed," Molly agreed, raising her cup in a toast. They shared a moment of comfortable silence, savouring the simple yet profound bond that had been forged between them in a London orphanage, and endured through the years since.

The serenity was suddenly interrupted by a sharp whinny from one of the stalls. Molly's keen ears instantly picked up on the distress in the sound. Setting her cup down, she hurried to the source of the noise.

"What's wrong, girl?" Molly murmured soothingly as she approached a young mare, Dulcinea, who was shifting uneasily in her stall. A quick examination revealed a small cut on the horse’s rear leg, just on the hock.

“Now how did you do that?” Molly said with a half-laugh. “I swear, horses can injure themselves on thin air!” She looked about before finding a small splinter jutting out of the wooden partition between the stalls. “Was that it? You silly filly!” Carefully, Molly removed the bloody splinter, putting it in her pocket to dispose of safely later.

Theresa laughed, going to the tack room to fetch the medical bag before returning to hold Dulcinea’s head and keep her still for Molly to work.

"Hold still, sweetheart," Molly cooed, her touch gentle as she expertly cleaned the wound with a damp rag before rubbing in a salve, all the while murmuring reassurances. Dulcinea gradually calmed under Molly's deft care, her eyes softening with trust.

"Is she going to be alright?" Theresa asked from Dulcinea’s head, her brows furrowed with concern.

"Yes, it's just a minor scrape," Molly replied. "She'll be good as new in no time. I’m not even going to bandage it, just keep putting salve on it for a few days."

"You're amazing, Molly," Theresa said, awe evident in her voice. "You’re as good with the horses as Richard... it's like the two of you can speak their language."

"Maybe I do," Molly said with a wink, giving Dulcinea one last pat before returning to Theresa. "Or maybe they speak mine."

"Either way, it's a gift," Theresa said. "And one that will serve you well at Sandhurst."

"Let's hope so," Molly said, her eyes drifting to the horizon where Belle Haven’s green fields met the morning sky. "Because I'm ready for whatever comes next."

"Safe travels, Molly," Theresa whispered, her hand squeezing Molly's in a silent vow of friendship and support.

"Thank you, Theresa," Molly replied, her heart swelling with gratitude. "For everything."

“You are most welcome, dear one.” Theresa put her arm around Molly’s shoulders. “Now. I know you’ve packed everything for the horses; you will not have left a single thing to chance. But have you put even one single item of clothing in your own trunk?”

Molly’s guilty expression told the truth of it, and Theresa’s laughter rang out. “Miss Molly! Get yourself up to your room right now and get packing! The baggage cart’s leaving this afternoon to be there ahead of you, and I’ll not have you at Sandhurst with only whatever gowns you can squeeze into your saddlebags!”

“I’ve work to do yet,” Molly demurred. “I’ll pack before the cart leaves. I promise.”

“See that you do.” Theresa’s glance was gently admonishing, but she did not press further, instead picking up the used teacups and tray and returning to the house, leaving Molly to continue with her morning routine.

Molly's room was a modest one at the back of the manor house, but it had the charm of her personal touch. The afternoon sun filtered through the lace curtains, casting delicate patterns on the floor. Molly knelt by her wooden trunk, neatly folding her clothes and placing them inside with care. Each item seemed to carry a memory, a piece of her journey from London to Belle Haven.

She picked up a well-worn book on horse anatomy which Richard had given her, its pages dog-eared and filled with her scribbled notes. A smile tugged at her lips as she added it to the trunk. How many nights had she spent poring over its contents, eager to understand every nuance of her beloved horses?

"Need any help?" Clara's voice broke the quiet, and Molly turned to see her sister standing in the doorway, her fair hair glowing like a halo in the sunlight.

"Always," Molly replied, her eyes twinkling with affection. "You know I'm hopeless at packing efficiently."

Clara laughed. She crossed the room and began folding a dress that Molly had haphazardly tossed onto the bed.

"Do you have your bonnet?" Clara asked, glancing at Molly's thick black hair, which was currently loose and tumbling around her shoulders.

"Of course," Molly said, fetching it from the dresser. "I wouldn't dare face the Sandhurst officers without it."

"Not with that wild mane of yours," Clara teased gently. “They’ll think it’s a horse’s tail!”

Just then, Anna appeared, her delicate features set in a serious expression. "Don't forget this," Anna said, handing Molly a small, intricately carved wooden box. "It's your lucky charm."

"Ah, yes," Molly said, taking the box and opening it to reveal a tiny silver horse figurine. "Wouldn't want to leave without it."

"Remember to keep it close," Anna advised. "It'll bring you good luck on your journey."

"Thank you," Molly said, touched by her sisters' thoughtfulness. She would miss them for the month she was expecting to stay at Sandhurst.

As they worked together, the room buzzed with activity and laughter, each sister contributing in her own way. Finally, the trunk was full, and all that remained were the items which had been rejected for the trip, scattered around the room waiting to be put away tidily.

"Let's get these loaded," Clara said, and she and Anna hefted the trunk between them. Molly smiled fondly as she watched them haul it out of the room. Anna was a tiny thing, half-Chinese in ancestry, and Clara not much bigger, but growing up on Belle Haven they handled horses who outweighed them ten times over without a blink and were far stronger than they looked.

They made their way down to the courtyard between the house and stable, where the wagon stood ready. Two draft horses were already hitched, their glossy coats gleaming in the sunlight. Molly felt a surge of excitement mingled with responsibility as she helped secure her belongings among the piles of tack and bags of feed.

“And now, time to change for dinner.” Anna tugged at Molly’s hand. “Come on. Mama’s ordered a special farewell dinner for you and Pa, before you leave in the morning. There’s roast lamb, and treacle tart!”

“Two of my favourites,” Molly laughed, her heart swelling again with love for her family. “I should check on the horses again, though…”

“You should not.” Clara laughed at her, seizing her other hand. “Come on! We’ll help you wash your hair. You should do it before you go!”

It was pleasant to spend an afternoon with her sisters, Molly conceded, as they helped her bathe and dry her long, thick black hair before the fire before dressing for dinner. And it was even better to spend the evening with her family, enjoying a wonderful dinner in the dining room before sitting in the parlour talking and laughing together for hours, Richard and Theresa on the sofa side by side as always, their daughters clustered around them. Watching Richard take Theresa's hand when Theresa set down her teacup, Molly wondered privately whether the two had ever regretted not having any children of their own. Six daughters, and every one adopted.

But as she observed the easy affection and understanding between them, she knew that biology did not define true family. The bonds they shared, forged through love and care, were stronger than blood.

As the hour grew late and the younger girls were sent off to bed, a gentle quiet settled over Belle Haven. The warmth of the fire cast a soft glow across the room, and Molly sat gazing into the flickering flames, savouring these precious moments before her journey to Sandhurst.

"Molly," Richard's deep voice broke the silence, and she looked up to meet his eyes. "You know how much we trust your judgment and skill with the horses."

Molly nodded, her heart swelling with pride at his words. Richard was not one to offer praise lightly, but when he did, it held immense weight.

"We have every confidence in you," Theresa added softly. "But remember, you are not alone. We are always here for you, no matter what."

Molly’s eyes glistened with gratitude as she absorbed their words, feeling the weight of their support and love. “Thank you, Richard, Theresa. I couldn’t have asked for better family, for more than what you’ve already given me.”

Theresa reached out, her hand finding Molly’s and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve worked so hard for this, Molly. Your dedication and passion shine through in everything you do. Sandhurst will see that, too.”

Richard’s gaze was steady, filled with a mixture of pride and concern. “Just promise me one thing, Molly,” he said, his voice gentle. “Take care of yourself out there. The horses will heed your command, but don’t forget to look after your own well-being. Don’t let those recruits try and boss you about just because you’re a woman. I know full well there’s no better rider in England than you, and they’ll soon know it too.”

Molly nodded solemnly, feeling their care envelop her like a warm embrace. “I promise,” she said, before giving a cheeky grin. “I’ll try not to show them up too much!”

Richard and Theresa’s warm laughter followed her as she bade them goodnight and made her way upstairs to her room, the same she had occupied ever since she came to Belle Haven as an orphan runaway. Theresa had many times offered her a better room, but Molly preferred this one… none of the family bedrooms offered such a good view of the stables.

She sat at her window, the cool night air carrying the soft sounds of the horses rustling in their stalls below. Moonlight bathed the courtyard, casting long shadows that danced like spectres across the ground. Too full of anticipation to sleep yet, she sat drinking in the familiar, beloved atmosphere until her eyelids began to droop, and at last, she took herself off to bed.