"Ha! Lady indeed!" she snorted, urging the mare forward. Poor Jem was left to trail along behind. With an irritable toss of fine spun golden curls Mallory silently cursed the contrary, fickle, ruinous fate that meddled with her father's fortunes and thereby her own. The little groom struggled to advance his poor cob nearer to the big hunter and his ragged 'Milady, please.' drew a sad little smile. She was dusty, disheveled, more than a little cross and not much of a lady at all.

It was all so retched! Mallory resisted the urge to give the mare her head, gallop away and never look back. Oh...to see Pentreath Hall and the stables and the lake and woods pass from her father's hands into those of, of ...well Him! Her urgency turned to frustration."Milady wishes to reach the woodcutter's cottage this day Jem so stop tarrying and come along." She might not have another opportunity to retrieve it if they were soon to be ousted from the hall.

The two riders reached the edge of the woods and the mare hesitated. Mallory felt the shiver ripple across Tralee's flank. Oh dear! She lifted the crop and tightened her fingers on the reins. A breath of wind lifted a stray curl at her nape, then caressed her cheek before it lifted the leaves into a little whirling dance that scattered them across the path. She shivered and Tralee sidestepped in that special little way Mallory had learned meant trouble.

Horse and rider were newly acquainted. Only a fortnight since her father returned from London, still in his cups and full of self pity. He confessed to losing everything at cards. Mallory was so stunned she barely noticed the bay tied to the carriage. It seemed their fate was now in the hands of a certain Clayton Stafford. The old Earl's only living relative and just recently returned from years abroad he had taken possession of Stafford Hall and in the eyes of all the Mama's with eligible daughters, he was also the catch of the year. Mallory had felt and ignored his keen gaze on several occasions.

Something crackled and snapped and Tralee bolted. A misstep tossed Mallory into the ferns and her last thought before losing consciousness was the memory of a ragged, dark haired boy and blue eyes watching as she hid her trinket box.

The room slowly righted itself and she focused on the shifting shadows against the wall. She was in her own room and two male voices were waging war in the hall. Her father's faint protests were drowned out by a deeper voice. "You brought this on yourself Pentreath! Zeus' Teeth! Don't whine about your daughter's future. Where were your fatherly concerns as you wagered her world against the turn of a card?" This last was almost a snarl.

The door opened and the little servant girl ducked through. Mallory's gaze was captured by flashing deep blue eyes before Annie smartly closed the door. "There now, and you’re awake." Annie chattered as she bustled about. Mallory listened in a daze. Apparently both men had reached Mallory at the same time. Jem had fetched her father and Tralee had raced to Stafford Hall, her riderless state alerting the staff to trouble. Yes, you see that big old bay belonged to the new Earl. Knowing you lost your own dear Schatzi, he let your father win her. And what a kind gentleman he seems. Nothing would do but he should stay and see to your well being despite your father's shouting and all. Seems His Lordship bought all your father’s markers. Annie drew a breath and Mallory waived her away before she could launch into even greater praise of the new Earl.

Still shaky but carefully dressed, Mallory slipped from the hall. She entered the dim stable and stood before Tralee’s empty stall. Leaning her forehead against the cool wood she murmured, "I know we hadn't known each other long but I'll miss you." Then in a whisper, "It seems I shall never retrieve the box." A shadow fell across the door and somehow Mallory wasn't at all surprised by the now familiar voice. "Twas never my intention to put you and your father out of your home." Then almost as an afterthought, "The mare is waiting outside in the yard." Mallory swallowed and faced Clayton. "I'm sure we would not wish to be beholden to you sir." Her quivering voice betrayed her and she turned to go. Clayton couldn’t resist capturing a strand of her hair. "There, there little golden girl." Before Mallory could speak the sun’s slanting rays crossed the floor and illuminated a small carved wooden box, much the worse for its burial, nestled in a strong, capable hand.

The present dissolved into a moment years earlier. Smaller hands held the box and a younger voice declared, "All right... here is your precious box....little golden girl. I'd not be wanting such a thing." Mallory had demanded an oath he would not tell, nor steal the box. The boy solemnly agreed and the two children never met again.

"Twas you? But I thought you were the tinker's boy." Clayton laughed, "I sailed for the Americas the following day. And I kept my vow only to break it now. Though I didn’t really steal it. That cottage was on uncle’s property and I had ordered it torn down." He placed the box in Mallory's trembling hand. The few precious trinkets left from her mother lay safe inside. Clayton turned to go. Mallory stopped him with a request, "Walk me back to the hall. Please?" Clayton's eyes flashed and he offered his arm. As Mallory placed her hand on his sleeve she sighed, "I fear Tralee will miss you Milord. Perhaps you will visit her...from time to time?"

Knowing brown eyes watched the couple walk past. The mare tossed her head and snuffled softly. When a carelessly placed mucking fork clattered onto the cobbles at her feet, she simply flicked her tail, cocked a hip and dozed off in the afternoon sun.

- The Costume -

The Riding Habit - circa 1878. This green fabric has a perfectly scaled “window pane” green on green pattern. The fully self lined skirt sweeps into a train which allows for the beautiful silhouette when standing and wonderful drape across the horse when mounted. The matching peplum jacket is lined in raspberry and has raspberry collar facings and decorative stitching at the wrists. Her plaid vest picks out the ivory of her delicate lawn blouse, the raspberry lining and darker raspberry plume, black (lined in green) top hat and narrow black silk ribbon at her throat and matching raspberry and green silk ribbons on the hat. “Pearl” buttons and lace accent her blouse. She has tiny "pearl" earrings and wears a golden watch pin on her lapel. She wears lace trimmed ivory pantalettes, petticoat, stockings and black riding boots. She carries a pair of black riding gloves and a riding crop.
The costume is NOT removable.

Tralee’s side-saddle was crafted entirely of leather. Both the fixed head pommel and the leaping head pommel have been lined in natural chamois to simulate the commonly used doeskin. All leather has been completely sealed. The saddle sits upon a pad of soft, chamois lined “sheepskin”. Though the saddle was constructed using as inspiration a vintage 1890 side-saddle made by Merit’s Saddlery of London and it contains most of the working parts, such as flaps, point straps, girth and offside ‘Y’ girthing system, stirrup leather and stirrup iron - it is not removable. The pommels were constructed over wire to allow the flexibility needed to place the doll securely in the saddle. Once placed with dainty booted foot in the stirrup she is completely secure and could probably sail over a brush fence with nary a ruffled curl. The double bridle has double reins and though the shank bit is not strictly de rigueur in the English hunt world of the period...Tralee was used to it so I left it alone.

Barbie as Mallory is a One Of A Kind - OOAK and has been completely repainted by the artist. She has green eyes, shadowed in soft golden brown, feathered brows, beautifully shaded rose lips, a new pale blonde wig, a natural manicure, flexible waist, repositioned arms, hands, modified jointed knees and applied lashes.

Tralee is perfectly scaled for Barbie at 17 hands to the withers. She is a beautiful big bay hunter. Her base color was left undisturbed but her legs were darkened and one white sock was added. She was also given a blaise and her eyes, muzzel, ears and hooves were painted for more realism. She even has shoes. Her hooves are rubber and furniture friendly. Her body is a hard plastic. Her legs each have three points of articulation and she could hold other positions. I found, however she is best suited to the pictured stance.

Horse And Rider Measure Approximately 18" Wide, 18" Tall and 6" Deep.

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