Watching Christian fight with his sword was like going to the ballet. It was a dance of beauty and grace. The blade seemed part of his arm as he fought Ulrich and another man. Ashley didn’t know where he found such a reservoir of strength. He told her he’d held a sword as soon as he could walk, and she could believe it. Christian threw back his head and laughed as he sent one of the men’s swords flying. Ashley pulled her legs up under her dress, wrapping her arms around her knees, content to watch. Even if he was engaged.
As she was thinking about what it would be like to live here with him, she heard the sound of horses. A carriage came to a stop in the courtyard.
Gwen pulled her up to stand on the bench. They had a perfect view as the carriage door opened.
CHAPTER 19
As much asAshley wanted to pretend it didn’t matter, she craned her neck to see as the carriage door opened. The horses were all black, and the carriage had curtains covering the windows. It looked like it would probably be a bumpy ride, but it certainly would’ve been better than being on horseback for weeks on end.
Why couldn’t Christian have been traveling in a carriage when she met him? It would’ve made their journey from Wales so much easier, and maybe they wouldn’t have been robbed. Come to think of it, he always had guards around him, but he was traveling alone. As a merchant she didn’t question it, but as a rich noble? Why?
An older woman stepped out first, dressed simply, probably the chaperone. The two men who had been driving the horses unpacked the luggage, and Ashley wanted to laugh. It looked like the girl packed more than Marsha packed, and that was saying something. Marsha would show up for a weekend trip with six or eight bags, while Ashley had one bag and one tote.
There had been a lot of speculation around the castle—she’d heard the girl wasn’t a noble, but came from a family that Ashley would have called solid middle to upper-middle class. The fatherwas a merchant who had made a deathbed promise to his wife to make a good match for their daughter.
The lack of sound had her turning to see everyone avidly watching to see what the girl looked like. Christian’s steward, whom Ashley called the weasel, scurried forward to greet the women. Which guard would he assign to his future wife? Quinn cleared his throat.
“What?”
He grinned. “She’s not as comely as you, lady.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”
His face turned serious. “Nay, I suppose it does not. ’Tis a shame. I rather thought Lord Winterforth would plight his troth to you.”
“Go play with your sword or something,” she grumbled at him.
Because really, her guard was just being loyal. The girl was breathtaking, with pale skin, an oval face, and a high forehead. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, making her gray-blue eyes look almost silver. She looked like a painting in a museum. For the first time in her life, Ashley felt like the frumpy middle-aged housewife who had let herself go and was now confronted with the mean girl from high school at their reunion who, of course, still looked perfect.
Christian bowed, and the girl nodded, but Ashley couldn’t hear what they were saying from here. No matter; she’d seen enough. It was either go home or find a job here—well, not here as in Winterforth, but here as in the past.
There was only one place to go, a place in a million years she’d never dreamed she’d long for. The stables. The atmosphere there was meditative. Brushing the horses, talking to them. They listened and didn’t talk back. The whole place calmed her. What did it say that she no longer thought the horses stank, and had come to like the smell of the stable and the horses? Talk about a change.
One of the boys greeted her, handing her a brush without a word. They’d come to know her routine over the past week or so.
The boys went about their chores, and during her days here, she’d noticed they tended to find time to sneak away and do heaven knew what. Not that she cared; she was glad for the privacy. As she brushed the old horse who had brought her to Winterforth, the one she had secretly started to call hers, she talked to him.
“Guess what I brought you today?”
The horse twitched an ear.
“That’s right, I snatched a carrot. But don’t tell the others. They’ll be jealous.”
The horse munched the carrot, and Ashley heard a noise. It sounded like her stomach, but her stomach wasn’t growling. She whirled around but didn’t see anyone in the stables, so she chalked it up to coming from one of the horses. It was warm and cozy in here with the horses, insulated fromhimand the decisions she needed to make. As she brushed the horse, she kept looking at the other stalls. Something was different. Then, in the empty stall next to hers, she saw the hay move. She tiptoed over, brave with the knowledge Quinn was only a scream away, and kicked at the pile of hay. A boy popped out, making her shriek.
Quinn appeared, sword drawn.
“Sorry, he scared me.”
Her guard scowled at the boy. “Do not scare our lady.”
The boy gulped. Ashley could feel him trembling as she held on to his arm.
“Thank you, Quinn. You can go back to whatever you were doing.”
“Guarding you, lady.” He winked and sauntered out of the stables.
She waited a few minutes before she let go of the boy and knelt down to look at him.
