The Master of Foxhounds

The Master of Foxhounds

 

 

 Part 1: The Voyager’s Visit to the Estate

 

 

Chapter 1

The meeting of two friends

 

 

 

Corina’s breath caught in her throat as their rental car turned into the lavish driveway, drove past the heather-filled pastures and wove up to the grand Estate, home to England’s best foxhunting horses. Redrix, her husband, parked the car smoothly by the marble front steps where the driveway came to an end, and their four children began to point and chatter excitedly at everything that caught their eye from the backseat.

“Look mum, a real live horse!” Pandora squealed delightedly, her gaze fixed onto a dun mare in the field closest to the car. The mare was accompanied by a dozen other brown horses, all the same height, with long limbs and various white marking upon their faces, none identical to its neighbour.

“How many horses does Sir Victor own?” Mikell demanded, his face pressed against the side window, peering out at the herd of yearlings.

“Hundreds” his father replied knowingly.

At that moment the front doors of the Estate opened and a group of people came bustling out to meet the family. The splendidly dressed figure leading the group turned out to be a butler followed by a handful of maids in similar navy dresses and white aprons.

 

Redrix stepped out of the driver’s seat to greet them.

“Good-morning Master Voyager, it is a grand pleasure to have you and your family staying at Sir Churchill’s Estate” the butler told him, bowing elegantly. He had salt and pepper hair, combed sleekly back onto his head, a trimmed moustache and gold spectacles on the bridge of his elongated nose.

“The pleasure is ours” Redrix said with a smile.

“I shall be at your service during your stay at the Estate. I am Calvin”. He bowed once more and immediately began giving instructions to the maids, who hurriedly pulled out luggage from the car’s trunk. By then the rest of the Voyager family had poured out of the rental car and were observing the butler and fast-moving maids with interest.

“I feel as if I should be helping” Corina mumbled to her husband as she watched them work.

“Don’t, it would offend them. Besides, it’s their job, don’t worry” Redrix responded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The Voyager children; Mikell, Kassandra, Pandora and Clive all stood amazed, mouths slightly ajar as the maids unloaded their car in minutes and set off inside, curtsying to each of them in turn.

 

Once the maids had disappeared inside, two more people appeared, this time the man of the house and his beautiful daughter. Victor Churchill was easily a person one could dislike at first sight. He portrayed obvious wealth and power, along with stunning good looks and class. His daughter on the other hand simply carried from his wife’s gene pool of beauty. She was only just beginning her teenage years, but was nonetheless giving a taste of what the future years would bring.

A head shorter than her father, slim, dressed in a red cardinal jacket, dark riding boots and cream jodhpurs, she was a sight to behold to people like the Voyager’s who were used to jeans and the low middle class. She had most of her mother’s looks; deep auburn waves to her shoulders, bright eyes the shade of freshly picked blueberries, a curvy smile and two small dimples engraved into each cheek. Victor was wearing a crisp pinstripe suit with black leather shoes, his dark hair recently cut and styled, holding a riding crop level to his right thigh. A pair of black leather gloves donned each hand and a glinting Rolex could be seen on one wrist, the diamonds twinkling in the morning sun.

 

The Voyager’s immediately, as if drawn by some unknown force, made their way to the waiting Churchill’s.

“Redrix, my good friend” Victor seemed to announce, clasping the other man’s hand and grasping his shoulder with a genuine grin.

“Victor, how are you this wonderful morning?” Redrix said, shaking the other man’s hand.

“As good as gold” Victor chuckled. He turned with a sweeping gesture and pulled his daughter forward. “You remember Elansa; she has most likely changed much since you last saw her”. Elansa blushed slightly, but kept a steady gaze on the staring family.

“Good-morning, it’s nice to meet you” she said with a smile as warm as her father’s.

“By God, you’re nearly as tall as me. The last time I saw you, you were about Pandora’s height” Redrix told her, mentioning to his youngest daughter who was gazing avidly at Elansa while tugging at her long, blonde braid absently.

“Are all these yours?” Victor asked nodding towards the children clustered about Corina.

“They sure are. In my wife’s arms is Clive, our youngest. Then there’s Pandora, just turned six last week. This here is Kassandra, as beautiful as her mother. And Mikell is our oldest, just about to go on fourteen next month” Redrix said proudly.

Victor shook hands with each of the children and then turned to face Corina.

“And Madame?” he asked, taking her hand into his gloved one.

“I’m Corina” she told him, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink under his devoted gaze.

“Corina, welcome m’lady” Victor said, kissing her hand smoothly and turning to Calvin, the butler, who had been waiting patiently at the bottom of the marble steps.

“Show the children their rooms and Lady Corina her master chamber. Bring the children a platter of sandwiches and juice, a cup of whatever m’lady desires and some wine to the Parlour” Victor instructed briskly, before leading the way inside the house. Elansa smiled at the family as they passed her and when the door shut behind them, she departed across the driveway and up to the stables.

 

*

 

The Parlour was a room with a wide view of the stallion’s pasture where Victor’s most prized dappled, grey hunter, King, stayed to graze in the early mornings. The room was furnished with mahogany bookcases filled with business textbooks and manuals about the Churchill Motor’s company. A matching desk and leather armchair rested before the bay window, which held piles of important paperwork and a silver laptop. The carpeted floor was a rich maroon silk texture and the walls were painted a dark chocolate with gold designs of leaves along the edges. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling emitted a warm glow over the entire Parlour. At the corner of the bay window stood a glass cabinet where dozens of bottles of Brandy, Gin, Whiskey and various other alchohals and spirits were kept. An empty crystal glass stood atop the cabinet, along with a half-empty bottle of Glasgow’s finest Scotch.

 

Redrix surveyed the magnificent room with a slight twinge of envy, his eyes coming to rest on Victor, who was pouring a generous amount of Porto into two wine glasses before handing one to his friends.

 

Author's Note

This is a small portion of my book The Master of Foxhounds (re-written), hope you enjoy it!

Reviews

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Who the blazes names their child Redrix? *laughs* You do a simply fantastic job with the details here, as every nuance of Victor seems sculpted in my mind. The exceptional detail throughout keeps it interesting, and here again, I find myself wondering how I might tempt you into continuing a story...?

Nicely written, indeed.

[lori c]

the setting and characters are definite and vivid in this opening. with just a few well turned phrases the social classes are established as well as the hint of conflict to come. i am intrigued with the choice of pandora for one of the children...is this a bit of foreshadowing. i am anxious to read more.