“Avalyn has the least foolish female mind of any woman you will meet,” Richard shot back softly. “Her counsel is wise and I value her opinion, as you well know.”
George sat his wine goblet down. “Then why do you fret over a dalliance with nothing more than a common soldier?”
Richard looked at his cup again. Anne looked at George. “Because she is destined for far greater things,” she said softly, firmly.
George lifted an eyebrow. “Then you had better direct her in the path of those far greater things.”
“Anyone in mind, my lord?”
George smiled. Odd that they should ask such a question.
*
“He does notappear lame,” Avalyn was crouched beside the big bay colt. “’Tis surprising with the sprinting he did over thecobblestones last night. He should have a bowed tendon at the very least.”
Brogan was crouched on the other side. He ran his big hands up and down the horse’s pastern, up the fetlock, feeling closely on the joint. Though he was inspecting the animal, his gaze kept moving to the lovely lady on the other side. It was difficult to concentrate. Finally, he stood up and slapped the horse affectionately on the neck.
“He seems sound,” he said. “This is a big horse, my lady. Why do you not ride something more your size?”
She stood up as well, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Heismore my size,” she said firmly. “I like a horse with some spirit and speed, not those docile little palfreys. They are a bore.”
Brogan lifted an eyebrow. “Spirit and speed almost got you killed last night.”
She shrugged. “’Tis possible. Thankfully you were there to break my fall.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “And almost snapped my neck in the process.”
She laughed softly, patted the horse one last time, and came around from its other side. “Is that where I hit you?”
He took her arm to steady her as she picked her way across a pile of horse dung. “You hit my entire backside from my waist up.”
“You can take it,” she teased him. “You are a nice, big lad. You could probably get hit by a runaway ale cart and not feel it.”
He scowled at her, lightly done. “I would feel it, I assure you. But I am surprised you are as sound and whole as you are. Our collision was very hard.”
She rubbed at her belly. “Well,” she began reluctantly. “Truth be told, I am rather sore. My ribs and belly hurt a good deal.”
He paused, looking concern. “Did you see a physic? Perhaps you have cracked some ribs.”
She waved off his concern as they emerged from the stable and into the bright sunlight. “Even if they are cracked, there is naught the physic can do for me. I shall survive.”
Brogan just stared at her. She caught his expression and lifted her shoulders. “Why do you look at me like that?”
He hadn’t realized he was. He just shook his head. “You are unlike any fine lady I have ever seen or heard of.”
“How is that?”
“You are… strong.”
She laughed, the gesture lighting up her entire face. “Strong? Strong like an ox, you mean?”
He was chagrined that she took his meaning wrong. He was so stupid not to know the correct words when speaking to her. He’d done more talking in the past few hours than he had done almost in his entire life, and he still wasn’t any better at it.
“Nay,” he assured her. “I simply meant that you do not seem like one to complain. Your fall yesterday was violent, yet you hardly say a word about it.”
Her laughter faded and she patted his massive arm in a comforting motion. “I know what you meant,” she said, thinking perhaps that he didn’t have the quickest wit about him. “Not to worry, my lord.”
The feeling of her hand on his arm, however innocent, was enough to start his heart racing again. “I respect a woman who does not complain.”
