Moira wasthe gentlest horse in his possession. She was placid enough for a beginner, yet spirited enough to be enjoyable once Gabriella gained confidence. If she had enough time to gain confidence.
The heavy oakdoors of the castle swung open, and Gabriella emerged, hesitating at the top of the stone steps. She’d changed into a simpler gown of soft brown, though it was still far too fine for riding lessons.
She scanned the courtyard,squinting against the sun. Her eyes found his across the distance, and for a heartbeat too long, neither looked away. The intensity in her blue gaze made heat pool low in his belly, before a blush colored her cheeks and she broke eye contact.
“Good mornin’,Laird McCulloch.” She approached him, her accent softening the formal greeting.
“Hector,”he corrected, the word escaping before he could consider it. At her startled look, he added gruffly, “If we’re to spend a month together, ‘Laird McCulloch’ will grow tiresome. At least when we’re speaking in private.”
“Hector, then,”she conceded, her voice faltering on his name.
The soundof it on her lips sent a warmth through his chest.
He turned abruptlyto the horse, running a hand down its flank.
“This is Moira,”he said, his voice deliberately businesslike. “She’s even-tempered and patient. A good mount for a beginner.”
Gabriella approached cautiously,one hand extended toward the mare. “She’s beautiful. I’ve never been this close to a horse before.”
“Never?”Hector raised an eyebrow.
She shook her head.“Me faither and I could barely afford food most winters, let alone a horse.”
Hector studied her profile.“Yet ye dinnae seem bitter.”
“Toward me faither?What good would that do? He did his best.” She straightened and lifted her chin slightly. “Besides, some dreams find their way to ye eventually, just nae when ye expect them.”
Their eyes met briefly,before Moira nudged Gabriella’s hand with her soft muzzle, breaking the moment and making her smile.
The genuine expressiontransformed her face, softening the wariness that usually shadowed her features. Once again Hector glimpsed the woman she was deep inside—someone who was beginning to hold his interest.
“That dress willnae do,”he said, forcing his thoughts back to the present. His eyes traveled over her figure before he could stop himself. “Too long. Ye’ll need proper ridin’ clothes. I’ll have somethin’ made for ye.”
A flush creptup Gabriella’s neck at his scrutiny. “This was all Aileen brought me.”
“It doesnae matterfor today’s lesson.” He stepped closer. “Ready to mount?”
She nodded,though uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
“Place yer left foot here,”he instructed, tapping the stirrup. “I’ll lift ye up, and ye’ll swing yer right leg over. Ready?”
Another nod,more determined this time.
Hector positioned himself beside her,hands hovering near her waist. “On three. One, two, three.”
His fingers closedaround her middle as he lifted her, feeling the narrowness of her waist in his palms, the curve where it flared to her hips.
Gabriella’s breathcaught as she found herself atop the horse, her hands clutching nervously at the pommel. Hector’s breathing had quickened, though not from the simple task of lifting her.
“Relax,”he said, his voice rougher than intended. “Moira can sense yer fear. Sit straight, breathe deeply.”
He reachedup to adjust her posture, his hand finding the small of her back. Her spine straightened at his touch, and he heard her draw in a steadying breath.
“Good,”he murmured, willing his racing pulse to slow. “Now, let’s begin.” He stepped closer to Moira. “Hold the reins like this. Nae too tight, but firm enough to communicate.”
Gabriella’s slenderfingers wrapped awkwardly around the leather straps. She furrowed her brow in concentration, a small crease forming between her eyes that Hector found inexplicably charming.
“Nay, like this.”He reached up, covering her hands with his own.
