Page 86 of Blood of the Thistle

Every man watching winced, realizing Anastasia might have been dropped and dragged if she’d not managed to free her foot, if Etta had lost control of the mare.

Bram’s jaw unclenched.

“Sweet Christ,” Niall muttered.

“She shouldnae pull herself up by the saddle like that,” Calum said thoughtfully.

“She has too much weight in the stirrup before she even leaves the ground,” Harsain said. “And Etta is standing in the wrong bluidy place if the mare moves again.” The captain’s expression was grave now as he watched the women below. “Though I suppose the mare is quiet enough.”

Bram recalled the mare and thought indeed she was docile enough.

“Would take a fair bit to frighten her,” Harsain continued. “So likely naught will happen.”

Anastasia was listening again while Etta demonstrated something with the reins. Whatever his sister was telling her, Anastasia took it seriously, watching Etta’s hands and then arranging her own accordingly when the reins were passed to her.

“Though a woman who doesnae ken horses can get herself hurt with even a quiet one,” Harsain added. “A foot caught in a stirrup. Mare takes fright. Lass falls badly.”

Bram’s eyes narrowed and he turned a scowl onto his captain, wondering why he insisted on cataloguing all the ways Anastasia could be harmed.

Harsain shrugged and pulled his blue eyes from Bram. “Merely thinking aloud.”

Domnall barked out a snort, as if something had just occurred to him. “Och, that would be grievous—bring her safely all the way from York only to have her break her neck in your own meadow.”

Bram growled something unintelligible. If he didn’t know better, he might have suspected they were deliberately trying to goad him into fixing what they saw as a wrong, namely Etta being the one to instruct Anastasia. But whatever amusement they found in the matter did not make them wrong. Etta plainly had no idea how to teach Anastasia to mount properly, and Anastasia knew too little to recognize poor instruction when she received it. If she meant to ride while she remained at Craig na Coille, she ought at least to learn without risking her neck in the process.

He gathered his reins and turned his horse toward the meadow.

“Och, and dinna be interrupting the lasses,” Harsain barked after him, with astonishing hypocrisy.

Bram shot back over his shoulder, “Someone has to prevent Etta from teaching Anastasia every poor habit she possesses.”

“Aye,” Harsain agreed solemnly. “Very conscientious of ye.”

The satisfaction in his captain’s voice made Bram narrow his eyes, but he was already riding down the slope and had no intention of turning back merely to give Harsain the pleasure of knowing he’d annoyed him.

He heard clopping hooves behind him and knew Harsain and the lads followed, but paid them no heed, his gaze on Anastasia, pleased that she made no other attempt, while she and Etta both stopped and stared at the half dozen riders coming toward them.

Bram was close enough now that Anastasia had plainly realized that he and the men behind him must have witnessed at least some portion of her struggle with the mare. A flush crept into her cheeks as her gaze moved over the approaching riders, lingering briefly upon Bram before dropping to the animal beside her. She smoothed both hands over her skirts and stood a little straighter, wearing the particular expression of someone determined to pretend that no one had actually witnessed her lack of success.

Etta suffered no such embarrassment. She planted one hand upon her hip and watched her brother approach with growing suspicion.

“What do ye want?” she called before he’d reached them.

“To prevent injury,” Bram replied as he reined in and dismounted.

“I ken how to ride,” Etta defended tartly.

“Aye, but nae everyone can teach,” he said, not meaning to injure his sister’s sensibilities more than necessary.

Anastasia spoke up swiftly, eager to defend Etta. “It’s my fault—you know how much trouble I have getting on the horse. You’ve seen it.”

“Aye, lass, we’ve all seen it,” Calum advised, grinning as he leaned over the pommel.

Harsain grinned and Niall and the others laughed outright at the recollection of her most recent attempts.

Bram was surprised when Anastasia held out her skirts and dropped into a low, mocking curtsy. “I’m so glad I could provide some entertainment, gentlemen.”

For a moment, the men only stared, but Harsain was the first to understand the jest. “Och, and we thank ye kindly, lass,” he said, his lips curving inside his facial hair. “Surpasses even what we saw on the training field this morn.”