“It is very beautiful,” Rosalyn agreed. She focused on the landscape, ignoring the sullen Lord Winbrook who walked beside her.
“The coaches are safely housed in the coach-house again,” Sebastian pointed out as they crossed the lawn. Rosalyn nodded, noting that the horses must all be well-settled in the stable once again.
“A foolish risk, to put the coaches all out in the snow to rust and moulder,” Lord Winbrook said tightly. “I cannot imagine what was in the duke’s mind.”
“It was a wise decision,” Rosalyn snapped, her patience wearing thin. “Between risking the coaches and saving the horses, there is no choice at all. Mechanical objects can be replaced. Living beings cannot.”
Lord Winbrook’s eyes widened and she felt a moment’s fear at the rage on his face. Then abruptly, he calmed. A fatuous smile appeared on his face.
“Quite so. Well said.”
Rosalyn looked away. She had little enough liking for the fellow as it was, but to hear him criticise a wise decision and then to act as though he agreed with her, was too much. It showed her that her assumptions about the man were not wrong. He was unpleasant and untrustworthy.
“Have you called at the stable lately?” Sebastian asked Rosalyn, sensing her discomfort.
“I have not,” Rosalyn replied quickly.
“Shall we go there?” Sebastian suggested, gesturing in a way that included Lord Winbrook and Lady Philippa. “It might be interesting to see the repairs on the roof.”
“I have seen roofs before. It cannot be so different,” Lord Winbrook muttered, but he fell in with them as they turned to take the path left.
Rosalyn walked ahead, doing her best to ignore the two who walked behind her. Sebastian was at the back of the group, loudly pointing out the frozen water of the pond and the icicles that clung to the trees in the water garden.
The stable door was open, the scent of hay and horses strong in the cold. Rosalyn walked in swiftly, sighing with relief. Lord Winbrook and Lady Philippa remained outside, while Sebastian, who seemed to have become suddenly aware of her discomfort, distracted them with comments about the history of water gardens.
“Rosalyn?” a voice called from in the stable. She turned and saw Callum there, standing by Buttercup’s stall. Her heart soared in relief and she went to stand next to him.
“Callum,” she said shyly. Her cheeks grew hot with shyness. She gazed up at him. He gazed back. “How does she fare?” she asked.
“Well,” he replied warmly, turning to Buttercup. “Her cough came back after the stay in the coach-house, but it has entirely gone now. I think perhaps it is the dust from the straw, as you suggested.” His gaze was admiring.
“I am glad that I could help.”
“You are a great help,” he said softly. His eyes held hers and Rosalyn’s heart began to beat loudly as he rested his hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes. His stare was so full of feeling, so tender, that she forgot how to breathe.
“I say!” Sebastian’s voice rang out, and Rosalyn spun around to see him, along with Lord Winbrook and Lady Philippa, in the doorway. She glanced up at Callum, whose gaze narrowed as he stared hard at the viscount, who gazed back with equal dislike. “It would seem the roof is mended,” Sebastian said. “Grand. Grand,” he repeated, seeming to sense both Callum’s and Rosalyn’s discomfort.
“It is indeed well mended,” Callum said thinly. His gaze held Lord Winbrook’s, distaste in every line.
“Well, then! We ought to let you have some peace. One’s tasks with the horses should not be disrupted, eh?”
“Quite so,” Callum said crisply.
Rosalyn gazed up at him, but he was not looking at her. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Lord Winbrook, a hard, cold stare in place. Lord Winbrook moved toward the door, briefly returning the challenging gaze before turning away. Rosalyn shivered. She could not understand what had possessed the two men, and it unsettled her.
She looked up at Callum as Lady Philippa and Sebastian went out of the door. He gazed back at her. His eyes were fullof tenderness, her heart twisting with warmth and love as she gazed up at him.
“Thank you for coming to see the horses,” Callum said softly. Rosalyn swallowed, his smile making chills run through her body.
“A pleasure,” she said softly.
He smiled and she turned to walk out of the stable, feeling as though she was floating as she walked onto the path beyond. She walked silently, Lord Winbrook walking sullenly behind Sebastian up the path, drifting in thoughts of Callum and his smile.
Chapter 22
Callum wandered down the hallway. His fingers were numb after his visit to the stable and his walk in the icy garden, but it was not that which made him feel so restless. He needed good counsel.
“Harriet?” he called, as he walked up towards the drawing room. Some guests had gathered there for morning tea, but a brief glance showed him that Harriet was not among them. He frowned, then drifted down the stairs, thinking that perhaps she had retired to the library to read. As he walked past the entrance to the dining room, he paused. The door that led through into the conservatory was open.
