rubdown and brush quite like Baybridge did. Freddie was a groom in the Duke of Devon’s stables and he tried to take satisfaction in the simple pleasures of life. A happy horse. A good day’s work.
“Fred,” the stablemaster called. “Muck out the third stall.”
And then there were the other things in life. He gave Baybridge a final rub on the nose before sighing and grabbing his pitchfork. Freddie rather missed the duke’s temporary stablemaster, Mr. Ableman. He’d been the sort who mucked and brushed as much as any groom in his employ. Mr. Frederick, whom Freddie had worked for all his life, was well enough tempered but his recent injury made him even less inclined to set his back to the difficult work of the stables, and that meant there was more than enough work to share among the grooms and stable boys.
Not that Freddie was silly enough to think that life would be, on balance, more than fair. He had work, enough to eat, and even a book of his very own that he could read from time to time when his work was done. It wasn’t the life he might have hoped for, but a good life nonetheless.
He spent the afternoon in the sort of mindless, sweaty labor that made the time fly because he could think on whatever he wanted, rather than stay attentive to the lords and ladies while following them around on horseback. That was, in fact, his least favorite duty and he was more than willing to leave it to Nash, the other groom. Freddie was particularly good at finding something else to do, or simply disappearing entirely, when a riding party was assembled. Otherwise he had to listen to them prattle on with their vapid gossip just in case one of them might need something, might ask him for something while his mind was otherwise occupied. Because if there was one thing he knew about Quality they did not like being ignored. They did not like it at all. And however much he might not enjoy every aspect of his job he did not want to give the family any reason to turn him off. He didn’t know quite what he would do in that instance. He’d been in the Hartland Abbey stables for as long as he could remember!
The duke’s family were lovely, they really were, but there was an attentiveness that a servant was expected to have that never came naturally to Freddie. The other servants teased him that he had his head in the clouds. That sometimes you had to wave a hand in his face or snap your fingers to get his attention. It was true that he was often lost to his own thoughts. He’d learned to be careful about it, however. He’d learned to be alert when the family was around. It was odd but it felt like being mindful was one of the harder things he had to do. He was glad enough to be in the stables because the horses were quite a bit easier to get along with than the rest of the household.
His past before Hartland Abbey was something of a mystery. Some said that his father had sought work as a groom then left without notice, not even taking his son. Others said the man who’d brought him hadn’t even been his father. The servants of the household had taken him in as one of their own, however, feeding him, clothing him, and preparing him for his life as a groom in the duke’s stables. And since he’d been the child of all the servants, he’d also learned more than most children in his place. It was as though everyone wanted him to like their place in the household best, even if he wasn’t likely to serve there. He knew how to polish silver, trim hedges, polish boots, and even sew a fine enough stitch to repair a gentleman’s jacket.
Growing up the man that Freddie had loved best, however, had been the tutor Mr. Eldridge. The man owned five books of his very own, and had access to the family library as well. Mr. Eldridge’s job had been to prepare the duke’s sons for school and that had been, from what Freddie gathered, something of a challenge. Freddie, however, had taken to books and learning like a duckling set in water to swim for the first time. Mr. Eldridge had spent evenings by the fire teaching Freddie his letters, then reading, and