“I think my brother is saying that you’re the last woman who’d break faith with anyone,” Jacob said. “At least, I bloody well hope so.”He drew in a sharp breath and winced. “Fuck—you’ve a bastard of a left hook, brother.”
“Then why…” Olivia began.
Jacob let out a laugh that turned into another cough. “Why did he punch me to the ground? Because, like all men in love, he wishes to protect you from those he believes are placing you in danger.”
Olivia turned her gaze to Charles. Her eyes, at first, showed only confusion. Then, as the two of them continued to stare at each other, he caught a flicker of hope in them.
“Is that what you said, Charles?”
He glanced at his brother.Damn it—must he have an audience when revealing his heart?
At length, he raised his hands and moved them in a slow, deliberate gesture.
Yes.
“Jacob’s your brother,” she said, “and as such, I see him as my brother also—like Montague, but perhaps with a greater inclination to smile. Besides, he’s in love with Nicola, are you not, Jacob?”
Jacob’s jaw bulged as if he were gritting his teeth.
“He’s been helping me tend to…” She turned toward the far stall. “W-would you like to see?”
She offered her hand. For a moment, Charles stared at it. How could she offer her hand, and her trust, to someone so unworthy? But it was not a gift to be denied. Gladly he took it, his blood warming with desire as she entwined her little fingers with his and ran her fingertips over his signet ring.
She led him into the building, and he inhaled deeply, relishing the soft, warm scent of hay and horse. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he caught sight of the silhouette of a horse, ears pricked up as if in recognition.
Sweet heaven…
Surely his eyes deceived him!
He approached the stall, blinking to dispel the image, but it solidifiedthe closer he moved to the horse that stood patiently, waiting to be reunited with his master.
Destriero.
MyDestriero.
His wife approached the horse, and Charles shook his head. Destriero, wary of strangers, had a wild streak. But she merely smiled.
“It’s all right, Charles. Destriero and I have been getting acquainted, haven’t we, darling boy?” She reached up, then placed her hand on Destriero’s nose. The animal nodded his head up and down, and she giggled. “Are you wanting an apple? You’re in luck, for I’ve procured one from the pantry. Best not to tell Mrs. Groves, though, or she’ll give mesucha scolding.” She stroked the horse’s nose. “We’re friends already, aren’t we, my sweetheart? But I suspect I’m not yourbestfriend. That position lies with another, does it not?”
She turned her clear honey gaze to Charles, and his heart almost broke at the expression in her eyes, as if she were pleading for his approval.
He stepped forward, and the horse nickered softly. Charles placed his hand on the animal’s flank and leaned against it, relishing the soft warmth and familiar scent of the horse that had been the only living thing he truly loved.
Until now.
He closed his eyes, and the horse shifted position, leaning toward him.
Yes, my boy. You are home—brought to me by an angel.
“Shall I return to the house and give you some space—time to reunite with your horse?” Olivia said, stepping back. “Perhaps you’d like to take him for a ride.”
She turned to leave, and Charles caught her sleeve, then gestured, slowly.
No. Stay.
She studied his hands, then rewarded him with a smile. “Very well. Let me first give Destriero a treat. I fear I’ve been spoiling him since hearrived. He’s such a beautiful horse.”
She made a soft crooning sound, and the horse whinnied in response while she retrieved an apple from her pocket and held it out, palm upward. She giggled as the horse’s lips brushed over her hand while he plucked the apple and munched it.
