“Yes, and Fiona. And Reginald. And Bishop. And Corduroy. And–”
“You laughed at ‘Tails.’” He shook his head. “Did you name them all?”
“I did.”
“I see. I think you might be worse at naming than I am.”
“I am quite proud of their names, sir. You should see their markings. Then you would understand,” I said.
“Uh-huh. Is Butterbun brown or gold?” he asked.
“He’s gold, of course,” I said. “And you’re notsobad. Edith isn’t terrible. I like that. It means wealth.”
“Henry named Edith,” he said. “I wanted to name her Murray.”
I laughed, playing with the lead. “Murray? For a mare? How odd. Though, I dare say that’s no better than Shadow. I felt rather simple with that. As you’ll guess, he’s black. God forbid you and I ever have children; they wouldn’t stand a chance, would they?”
Cyrus choked. “Come again?”
I paused in horror. “I meantseparately, of course. I don’t know why I said it like that.”
“Aye,” he said.
“I-I meant, like, perhaps we would benefit from hiring a third party to assist us in– You. Me. Ourselves apart, to…to name our children.”
A crack of thunder tore across the field, both scaring and saving me at once.
“Cock it all to Hell,” Cyrus muttered.
“Whatwas that?” I asked.
His face scrunched; he shielded his view with a saluted hand, and with the other, he pulled Ice’s strap. The first came down to gather Tails’s reins, and he did the same to them.
“Let’s hurry,” he said.
Chapter 19
Mr. Evergreen and I passed into the barn moments after it had started to rain, but the downpour had caught us and it was enough to effectively soak through our clothes, even the sheath beneath my dress. I shivered, taking the swordsman’s hand and happily dismounting Tails to plant my shoes firmly into the hay. Without much of a pause, he vanished into the back and came out with a blanket that he draped around my shoulders.
“I’m so cold,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” he promised. He patted my face with the corner of the sheet, clearing the stream from my flattened braid, which he swept behind my ear.
We met eyes carefully. Cyrus took a step back and wrung the water from his shirt. I caught a glimpse of what was under it: his bare abdomen. It wasverydefined. He carried on, unaware of my violation, to unsaddle and pin our pair.
I searched foranyresemblance of a word, but I was hyper-fixated on how warm his fingers had felt entwined with mine. How warm they had been against my cheek.
“I-Is this one of the horses’?” I asked finally, concerned about the wrap.
He replied without looking up. “It’s my own. I sleep here sometimes, remember?”
“...I hadn’t expected the weather to shift so quickly. What with how hot it’s been,” I rambled. “It’s been-”
“You don’t have to stay here,” he told me. “My apologies for having you gotten in that mess. I should have insisted we head back sooner.”
“It was just as much my fault,” I said.
He went on. “But youarefree to go. I’ll finish up here, don’t worry.”
