One of the things Clovis had been most afraid of was being…

““One of the things Clovis had been most afraid of was being forced to ride. He had seen the horses in the stables, and they looked large and twitchy. If Sir Aubrey put him in the saddle, Clovis meant to confess straightaway and take the money Finn had given him to run away to his foster mother. But the week after he arrived at Westwood, Sir Aubrey asked Clovis to come into the library because he had some bad news for him. “Now I want you to be brave about this, my boy. I want you to take this like a man and a Taverner.” Clovis’s heart began to thump. Could someone have died--Maia perhaps, or his foster mother--and if so, how did Sir Aubrey know? Or was it just that he had been found out?” “I won’t hide from you the fact that the Basher--your aunt Joan, I mean--disagrees with me. She was all ready to teach you. She had picked out a fine mettlesome filly to start you on; nothing sluggish or second rate. A real Thoroughbred. You’d be going over jumps in a couple of weeks. But I’m afraid I cannot allow it.” “Can’t allow what, sir?” asked Clovis. “Can’t allow you to ride. Can’t allow you to go on a horse. You can imagine what it cost me to come to this decision; the Taverner children have always been up in the saddle from when they were two years old. But after Dudley’s terrible accident…” Tears came into Sir Aubrey’s eyes. He turned away. “If there was anyone else to inherit Westwood, I would let you take your chance, but with Bernard and Dudley both gone…” He pressed Clovis’s shoulder. “You’re taking this very well, my boy. Very well indeed. You’re taking it like a man. I confess I expected arguments, even tantrums.” “Well, it is a disappointment,” said Clovis, wondering whether to break down and cry, a thing all actors learn to do at the drop of a hat. But in the end he just gave a brave gulp instead. “I had, of course, been looking forward…” He looked out of the window to where the Basher, mounted on a bruising chestnut, was galloping across a field. “But I do understand. One must always think of Westwood.””

— Eva Ibbotson