Chapter 14
He led Zeus out of the mews. The majestic animal eyed her as they neared. Annabelle sensed him sizing her up. Would she make a tasty snack, be worthy of touching him, or dare to try and ride him?
She smiled up at him, meeting his soulful gaze, but made no move to touch him. Not yet.
As for his owner, the brief bout of insanity she’d suffered that had tempted her to soften toward him had died more quickly than a person could say “wear my doxy’s gowns.” He could rot.
“I think it’s best we lead him through the village proper. No sense giving the good people of Fenwick more fodder for gossip. It will look bad enough seeing the two of us heading to the outskirts of town, alone.”
She sniffed. “I could ride while you walk.”As any gentleman would have offered, went unsaid.
He scoffed at that.
She leveled him with a cold stare. “What’s so funny?”
He shook his head. “No disparagement of your horsewoman skills intended, but I doubt you’re a match for Zeus on your own. He’s never permitted anyone but me to ride him. Leastways not without giving them a piece of his mind.”
She sent him, she hoped, a withering glare, then, moving cautiously, but not too cautiously, she reached out, allowing him to sniff her hand.
He would have balked if Sterling—Viscount Randall—did not have a firm grip on the reins. She discerned that easily—in his snort, the slight jerk of his head, the pricking of his ears, and widening of his dark eyes.
She stood still, and waited for him to decide he’d tolerate her. In turn, he responded with a wary acceptance, nostrils flaring and breath puffing against the back of her raised hand, but otherwise he remained utterly still while watching her with his bottomless eyes.
“Of course you’re discriminating,” she murmured. “Because you’re magnificent, as you very well know.”
He leaned closer, his eyes growing softer. He touched her hand with his warm, whiskered muzzle, then moved back. His perfectly formed, pointed ears pricked forward over his wide forehead, and he gave another snort.
And then he gave a soft, approving whicker and stretched to sniff at her hair.
She giggled. “Stop it, Zeus. That’s my hair, not hay. I know it looks the same, but it doesn’t taste the same.”
The horse moved his muzzle down then, whiskery over the soft skin of her neck. Finally, he rested his nose on her shoulder and gave a deep sigh of contentment. Apparently, he’d decided he liked her.
Success!A sluice of happiness went through her. She kissed Zeus’s cheek, sleek and soft beneath her lips.
“Yes, I know. You are such a handsome boy. No beast can compare to you. Utterly resplendent, you are, with your sleek muscles, superior form, and black-as-night coat,” she whispered, mouth curving into a crooked smile for him alone. “I will ride you, darling, and I will enjoy the feel of your powerful body beneath me, and you will love—”
Her words cut off abruptly as Lord Randall broke into a coughing fit, drawing both hers and Zeus’s startled attention. The horse, to her mind, looked almost offended as she was at the interruption.
Annabelle dropped her arm to her side. “That wheeze probably owes to your mid-afternoon imbibing.”
“No doubt,” he agreed dryly.
She’d only been poking at him with that comment. While it was true some men’s complexions did color with alcohol consumption—Gaston’s did, which was one of the reasons he rarely drank to excess, and one of the reasons she doubted Lord Randall’s version of events on that fateful night—she did not actually believe Lord Randall typically lounged about drinking to his altitudes on any given afternoon.
She huffed in annoyance—with herself, and the need to retract her statement that she had no business feeling. “If you must know, Lady Caroline made it clear you do not have an irresponsible bone in your body. I know you are not a heavy drinker.”
“How generous of you to say so. And what exactlydidmy sister tell you of my character?”
“That you could do with a little less rigidity. According to Lady Caroline, you hold yourself to exacting standards, and dread above all else making any choice that is less than perfect.”
He snorted. “That is absurd.”
“She said, and I quote, you are everything a girl could wish for in an older brother, aside from your boorish tendencies to becontrolling and priggish where she and your younger brother are concerned.”
He frowned at her. No longer looking the least amused.
She smiled. Good. She gestured forward. “Shall we? Or do you want to spend the evening in Fenwick?”
