“Nay. Angus and I just got back. No sight o’ him anywhere. The estate is too large and has too many wild places. He could be anywhere.”
“On the move, most likely. I want to see Chieftain.”
“The beast is fine and Billy says Tempest also fares better now that he is back on his feet. As for ye—”
Alan tried to smile. “I am better on my feet also. Come,” he said to Annista, his mobile support still pressed to his side.
Two of the grooms greeted them at the door of the stable which lay softly lit. Billy also hurried out to meet them. After running an assessing eye up and down Alan’s body, he at least did not urge his master away.
“He is doin’ better, just,” he greeted them. “Come see.”
They went, Annista urging Alan on now. They paused first at Chieftain’s stall where the black thrust a curious nose at Alan. Outside Tempest’s box, Annista made sure Alan had a good grip on the half door before she abandoned him and slipped inside.
“Och, bonny boy,” she crooned and ran her hands over the stallion’s neck.
Billy and Alan exchanged a look.
“She has the touch, has the young mistress,” Billy said.
“No denying it.”
“Thon wild beast should ha’ her trampled under his hooves. But he will no’ harm her.”
“Nay, he will no’.” They watched the young woman fuss over the horse for a moment before Alan lowered his voice.
“Billy, can ye think o’ anywhere he might go?”
“Nay. So long as he does no’ return here. The lads are on watch, aye, but should the young master appear in a rage, I do no’ ken—”
If the stable lads would be willing, aye, or able to face off against him.
“Should that happen,” he told the old groom grimly, “ha’ one o’ them run for me, understand?”
Billy ran a second assessing glance over him. “Well, so. If I may say, Master Alan, ye scarce be in the best o’ conditions.”
“Nor is he.” And it was not any of the groom’s or footmen’s responsibility to die for this place.
It came to Alan abruptly—it was his.
If he wanted this place he loved to endure, he would have to fight for it.
He eyed the young woman crooning over the injured horse. If he wanted Annista, he would have to fight for her also, but in a very different way.
He hadn’t been raised to battle. He’d learned early to step back and let Evan have his way.
That had now changed. In a fundamental way, Annista’s arrival had changed everything.
She’d arrived armed. Riding to battle for her sister. What could that do but inspire him?
A woman in a thousand, was Annista.
He watched as she fussed over the great wild stallion, speaking to him in a stream of soft words that sounded almost like singing. With the horse, she softened—as did the beast himself. Yet with both of them the fierceness still lay below the surface.
Beautiful, it was. Beautiful she was. How had Alan failed to notice that at once?
Father had followed them in and stood looking on for a moment before he pulled Alan away. Still clad in his boots and cotte in which he’d been out searching, Father looked weary and as if the past hours had aged him.
He spoke in a low voice meant for Alan’s ears alone. “As if we ha’ not troubles enough to beset us, I ha’ received a message from Alexander Cunningham.”
