On his knees beside the horse, Sebastian looked up at Isabel and grinned.
‘Here he comes. Well done, Millie.’
Isabel stroked the mare’s neck as the second hoof protrudedand, with one gigantic contraction, the nose and head of the foal appeared.
Sebastian sat back on his heels as Peter, following his father’s instructions, gently eased the little creature out, the boy’s face shining with wonder. Millie gave a great shuddering sigh and relaxed under Isabel’s hand.
They sat in awe as the mare and the little foal rested from their travails. Isabel stole a glance at the new Lord Somerton, seeing the smile on his face as the mare’s head swung around to look at her baby. It would have been beneath Anthony’s dignity to have attended the stable, let alone participated in a foaling. He loved horses, but Anthony liked to keep himself away from anything remotely dirty or unpleasant. That had been Anthony’s loss. Nothing could have been more wonderful than seeing a new life come into the world.
With a grunt, Millie rose to her feet. The foal also struggled up, standing on shaking stick-thin legs. The foal nickered and it was Sebastian, not the head groom, who instructed Peter in guiding the baby’s questing mouth towards its mother. It took a couple of attempts but it latched on and began suckling greedily, its little tail beating in pleasure.
Isabel’s heart melted both at the sight of the little creature and the smile on Sebastian’s face. Hardened soldier or not, the experience of the foal’s birth clearly affected him and tears started in her own eyes. She dashed them away before he could notice and think her foolish.
Thompson looked up at the window. ‘It’ll be dawn soon.’ He turned back to Sebastian. ‘Thank you, my lord. You missed your vocation as a stable hand.’
Sebastian smiled as he rose to his feet. ‘Oh, I had plenty of practice. As a boy, I used to haunt the local squire’s stables. I’ll leave you to it and have a wash down outside.’
Isabel picked up his shirt and coat. ‘I’ll bring these,’ she said.
He looked down at his hands and grimaced.
‘Thanks.’
‘Ye’ll find soap by the trough,’ Thompson said and turned back to the horse.
The first grey streaks of dawn lightened the sky as Sebastian and Isabel stepped out into the courtyard. A water-filled trough stood to one side of the door, soap balanced on the rim, and a rough towel hung on a rusty nail.
Sebastian plunged his arms into the trough with a sharp exclamation at the water’s temperature. He picked up the soap and began scrubbing vigorously. Standing to one side, holding his shirt and coat, Isabel found her eyes fixed on his broad shoulders. His muscles rippled beneath the brown skin and once again her heartbeat quickened. She took a deep steadying breath.
As the sky lightened, she could see that there were other scars marring the brown skin.
‘You seem remarkably careless of your life, Lord Somerton.’
He glanced at a long, white scar that ran down his bicep. ‘I’ve been a soldier a long time, Isabel.’
A flush of pleasure rose to her cheeks at this invitation to familiarity. Being alone with a half-naked man in the early hours of the morning did not call for formality, neither did it reflect well on her reputation. She glanced around the stable yard, but they were quite alone.
He straightened and began towelling off. The grey light of the early dawn flattened the planes of his face, leeching the colour from his skin and eyes, but she could see the lift of humour curling the corners of his mouth as he caught her watching him, and the heat rose to her face as she thrust his shirt at him.
He pulled it over his head and took the coat from her, his eyes not leaving her face. As he buttoned the coat he tilted his head to one side.
‘I’ve been trying to work out what is different about you this morning. It’s your hair.’
He reached out and touched the loosely tied, heavy braidthat hung over her shoulder. His finger brushed her cheek, leaving a burning trail across her cool skin.
‘What about my hair?’ Isabel stuttered.
‘I like the way you have bits of it around your face,’ he withdrew his hand and looked away. ‘Now I am being personal.’
Given his previous state of undress and the fact that they were alone together, a personal remark seemed the least of her concerns.
‘I’ll forgive you this once.’ She took a step back from him. ‘I must be getting back to the house.’
Before someone sees us together like this.
Sebastian looked at the sky. ‘It’s going to be another lovely day. I think I’ll go for a walk.’
Isabel lingered in the gateway to the stable, watching him stride away from her into the early morning mist. He moved with purpose and strength, and she felt sure, had she been a soldier, she would have willingly followed where he led.
