heâs having a lesson. Whatever makes you comfortable.â
âIâd like to watch. Not because I donât trust you,â Louisa hastened to add.
âBut because heâs your baby and you donât want to miss a thing.â Bea smiled. âThe first time they ride without being on a leading rein, itâs like watching them take their first steps. It always makes me tear up as much as their mums.â
And then Louisa realised that Bea would take as good care of Tyler as she would herself; as the tension in her shoulders eased, she realised how worried sheâd been.
âHeâll be fine ,â Bea said softly.
Tyler appeared before them, wearing a hard hat. âIt fits, Mum.â He beamed at her.
âCome on. Iâve got half an hour before my next lesson. Letâs get Polo saddled up and you can have a walk round the paddock,â Bea said.
Tylerâs eyes went wide. âReally?â
âReally. Poloâs going to be your special horse for a while, so letâs get you introduced.â
Watching her son being led round the paddock put a real lump in Louisaâs throat. And Tyler was glowing afterwards. âI did it, Mum. Iâm going to be a knight. Just like the man in the photograph.â
âThe man in the photograph?â Louisa was mystified.
Bea looked at her. âAh. You didnât know.â
âKnow what?â
Bea blew out a breath. âI feel as if Iâm breaking a confidence here. But I guess you need to see it.â She took Louisa and Tyler back to the tack room and showed Louisa the photograph on the wall in silence. A man on a white horse, wearing black armour and carrying a lance.
When Louisa peered more closely at it, she realised that the helmetâs visor was up and she could see the riderâs face. Someone she recognised. âDominic?â
âHe still has Pegasus, but he doesnât joust any more,â Bea said.
Dominic was a knightâor, at least, he had been one. But, given that heâd been so open about the fact that he had a horse, and that heâd helped her arrange riding lessons for Tyler, why on earth hadnât he said anything to her when sheâd mentioned how much her son wanted to be a knight? âWhy did he give up jousting?â she asked.
âI think itâd be better if he told you,â Bea said. âItâs not my place.â
âWas he hurt?â But she could see the mingled concern and awkwardness on Beaâs face. âSorry, I shouldnât have asked that. Itâs not fair to you. Forget I said anything.â
âThatâs what I want to be. A knight,â Tyler told her.
âA knight on a white charger, hmm?â Louisa asked.
âThe horse isnât white, heâs grey,â Tyler corrected.
âHe looks white to me,â Louisa said.
âWhite horses are always called grey, Mum,â Tyler informed her, rolling his eyes.
She ignored his impatience. In Tylerâs mind, if he knew something, it followed that the whole world must know it, too. And in the same painstaking amount of detail.
âHeâs a Percheron. They come from Normandy in France,â Tyler explained, âfrom a place called Le Perche. Itâs thought that Percherons are descended from destriers, but theyâre bigger and heavier than the medieval warhorses.Destriers were trained so you didnât have to use the reins, because your hands would be full carrying your sword and your shield.â
âAbsolutely right,â Dominic said. âHello, Louisa.â
Louisa jumped. âI didnât hear you come in.â
âSorry. I didnât mean to startle you.â He looked at Tyler. âAnd you must be Tyler. How was your first riding lesson?â
âBrilliant, thank you,â Tyler said politely. He peered at Dominic. âAnd youâre the knight in the picture, arenât you? Bea says your horse is