In the Land of the Long White Cloud

breakfast table. Kiri probably would not have thought of it on her own. She had recently married and could think of nothing but her husband. Gwyneira was just waiting for her to announce her own pregnancy—and for Gerald to explode about it.
    Afterward, Gwyneira had to persuade Kiri to polish the silver, and then she would have to discuss dinner with Moana. Something with lamb. And Yorkshire pudding wouldn’t be bad either. But first Fleur…

    Fleurette had not been idle while her parents had breakfast. She wanted to get going, which meant saddling or harnessing the horse. Gwyneira usually took her daughter on Igraine with Fleurette sitting in front, but Lucas preferred that his “ladies” rode in a carriage. He’d had a dogcart specially sent for Gwyneira, which she commanded excellently. The light, two-wheeled vehicle was extremely good for travel over rough terrain, and Igraine pulled it effortlessly over the difficult paths. However, it could not go off road, nor could you jump in it. That meant the shortcut through the bush to Helen’s was ruled out. Unsurprisingly, Gwyneira and Fleur preferred to ride, and that’s what Fleurette decided on that day.
    “Can you saddle up Igraine, Mr. McKenzie?” she asked James.
    “With the sidesaddle or a different one, little miss?” James asked seriously. “You know what your father said.”
    Lucas was seriously considering having a pony sent from England for Fleurette, so that she would learn to ride properly in a sidesaddle. Gwyneira declared, however, that she would be too big for the pony by the time it arrived. Gwyneira started out teaching her daughter to ride astride Madoc. The stallion was very well behaved. The problem lay in keeping it secret.
    “With a saddle for grown-ups!” Fleur declared.
    James had to laugh. “A real saddle, you got it, my lady. Do you plan to ride alone today?”
    “No, Mummy’s coming. But she still has to play ‘walking target’ for Grandfather. She told Daddy. Is he really going to shoot at her, Mr. McKenzie?”
    Not if I can help it
, James thought grimly. It wasn’t a secret to anyone on the farm that Gerald tormented his daughter-in-law. In contrast to Lucas, against whom the workers all harbored a certain resentment, Gwyneira had their sympathy. Sometimes the boys came dangerously close to the truth when they made jokes about their employer’s manhood. “If the miss only had a real man,” went the standard comment, “then the old man’d already be a grandfather ten times over.”
    Often enough, the fellows would then offer themselves in jest as the “stud” and try to outdo each other with their ideas of how they could make their lovely mistress and her father-in-law happy at the same time.
    James tried to put an end to these dirty jokes, but it wasn’t always easy. If only Lucas would make some effort to be useful on the farm. But he never learned anything about it and had become increasingly stubborn and recalcitrant when Gerald forced him into the stables or the fields.
    While James put the saddle on Igraine, he chatted with Fleur. He hid it well, but he loved his daughter and couldn’t bring himself to view her as a Warden. This red-haired whirlwind was his child—and he didn’t care in the least that she was “just” a girl. He waited patiently until she had climbed on top of a crate, from which she could brush Igraine’s tail.
    Gwyneira entered the stables just as James was cinching the saddle, and as always, she reacted involuntarily to his gaze. Her eyes lit up, her cheeks flushed…then the iron control clamped down again.
    “Oh, Mr. McKenzie, have you already saddled the horse?” asked Gwyneira sadly. “I’m afraid I can’t go out for a ride with Fleur; we’re expecting a visitor.”
    James nodded. “Ah, right, that English merchant. I should have remembered that you would be tied up today.” He made a move to unsaddle the mare.
    “We’re not riding to school?” Fleur asked, hurt. “But then I’ll stay dumb, Mummy!”
    That was her latest argument to justify making the ride to Helen’s whenever possible. Helen had used it on a Maori child who liked to skip class, and the remark had made an impression on Fleur.
    James and Gwyneira had to laugh.
    “Well, we couldn’t take that risk,” said James with mock seriousness. “With your permission, miss, I’ll take her to school.”
    Gwyneira looked at him, astonished. “Do you really have time?” she asked. “I thought you were