The groom dashed off to the stable while the woman veered away to watch the stablemaster, who exercised a spirited dappled mare in the adjacent paddock. She rested her forearms on the top rung of the enclosure and a foot on the bottommost, greeting the man by name.
In the face of overwhelming curiosity, Connor knew his ride could wait a few moments longer.
Or was it the siren’s call that lured him?
How could any lover of beauty deny himself a moment to appreciate a masterpiece? Calling for one of the other grooms who stood by watching the training, Connor passed his reins off then joined her at the fence. With a foot on the lowest rung, he crossed his arms on the highest just as she had. The lass didn’t spare him a glance.
“I wisnae aware we had visitors remaining at the Grange.” Her shoulders squared against the fitted jacket of her habit. “Allow me to introduce myself. Connor MacKintosh. My sister, Fiona, is the new lady of the house.”
Silence. Her profile was worthy of national currency with her high forehead, slightly upturned nose, and stubborn chin. Long black eyelashes softened the classical lines. Her flawless porcelain complexion stood in stark contrast to the arcing slash of her brows and lush cherry lips. He wished she would look at him; instead, her eyes followed the circling mare with studied concentration. He might well have not spoken aloud.
“And ye are?” he prompted.
Her shoulders slumped. “Lillian Milbourne.Mrs.Milbourne.”
The name fell from her lips with ease yet he couldn’t help but feel the words rang false. She didn’t seem at all withdrawing enough to be compared to a lily. Or at least she hadn’t moments before.
Though the stablemaster continued to circle the mare about the enclosure on a longeing lead and the other grooms carried on with their currying and shit shoveling, Connor had the sense that all eyes were on them. Watchful and protective. As Lewis Carroll had once written so poetically,curiouser and curiouser.
“What brings ye to Dinton Grange today, Mrs. Milbourne?”
The mare took a full rotation around the paddock before she deigned to answer. “I was merely visiting a friend.”
“Visiting whom, may I ask?”
With all the wedding guests gone, he couldn’t imagine who an obviously highborn lass would call upon. While he wasn’t well-schooled in the habits of ladies, he did know it was as unusual for one to call upon servants as it was for one to fetch her own horse from the stables. Not unheard of, though. He waited for clarification, but she didn’t answer.
Before he could ask something more, Bram led a saddled horse from the stable. The handsome palomino seemed as familiar to Connor as Mrs. Milbourne herself. She faced the lad with a smile that whipped Connor’s head around like a physical blow and left him just as breathless and dazed. Incredible, since the expression was one filled with relief and not even directed at him.
Beguiling, bewitching. He could do no more than stare after her as she walked past him.
“Thank you, Bram. A foot up, if you please?”
“Allow me,” Connor recovered himself enough to offer.
She faced him then, wide eyes of vivid sapphire sparkling in the sunlight, and recognition struck. When last he’d seen her outside the church on his sister’s wedding day, she’d been drenched in mourning black. From the massive hat on her head to the tips of her toes. He’d been left as dumbstruck at the sight of her that day as he was now.
“Och, ye’re a far more bonny sight in red than ye are in black, Mrs. Milbourne.”
Something akin to panic flashed in her eyes before she collected herself. Obviously, she hadn’t anticipated being recognized. Another mark on the tally of the mystery of her. He did nothing more to address it. Rather, he stared at her as she did him, a becoming blush coloring her cheeks.
“May I?” he asked gruffly.
She blinked, inky lashes a splash of contrast fanned over her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Settling her foot in his cupped hands, she let him toss her up into the saddle, where she positioned her leg over the pommel with practiced ease and gathered her reins. There was no groom waiting to accompany her, nor did any of the stable lads act as though they intended to.
“I see ye have nae groom to escort ye home. Might I have the honor?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Her tone was firm. “I don’t live far. That is, I’m familiar with the area.”
She spurred her horse into motion, and he watched as she set out. Not down the lane toward the main drive, but along a graveled path heading northward toward the dairy. A gentleman would let her be when she clearly had no desire for his company. To the contrary, a gentleman wouldn’t let a young lady, widow or not, travel alone. Since that edict better suited him at the moment, Connor retrieved his horse and shoved his foot into the stirrup. He heaved himself up…
And dropped in an arcing sweep until his arse, shoulders, and head smacked against the hard dirt while his booted foot hung from the stirrup now dangling below the horse’s belly.
“What the hell?”
The groom who’d been holding his reins clucked his tongue with a shake of his head. “You must not have had the cinch tight,eh, m’lord?”
