The man grinned. “Already done. I’ll give her Dolly. She wouldn’t run if the stables were on fire.”
Colin barked a laugh. “Perfect. And for Lady Miranda, what would you suggest?” He’d hoped the stablemaster would recommend a spirited animal, just to annoy the red-headed nuisance when he and Lady Miranda left her and Mr. Grey far behind.
“Let me see.” The man rubbed his chin. “If I recall, she rode Ginger the last time without any trouble, but she just foaled. Perhaps Mercy. She’s spirited, but not as much as Buttercup. Besides, His Grace gave strict orders no one other than Her Grace should ride him.”
Footsteps and feminine laughter sounded behind him, and he turned to find Mr. Grey escorting both Lady Miranda and Miss Weatherby toward the stables.
Lady Miranda sent him a sweet smile. “I tried to explain to Mr. Grey the horses would be brought to the house, but he insisted we come and join you.”
Miss Weatherby gazed around, ignoring him.
The stablemaster craned his neck and stared at Mr. Grey. “Well, it’s probably for the best. Not knowing your experience, I was going to saddle Brownie for you, but, considering the size of you, I best give you Hero.” He pointed to an enormous black beast of a horse.
While a groom assisted the stablemaster in preparing the horses, Colin did his best to initiate conversation. “Lady Miranda, your father’s seat is in Dorset as well, correct?”
Although she was lovely, with her thick chestnut hair and warm brown eyes, when she smiled at him, Colin felt...nothing. No stir of excitement, or intrigue, or—his gaze flicked to Miss Weatherby—annoyance.
“It is, sir. East of here near Wimborne.”
If he became earnest about courting her, the proximity of their family estates was advantageous. Not to mentionthe fact that she was accustomed to this part of the country and would easily adapt to a new home.
“I had the pleasure of speaking with your brother earlier yesterday.”
“About one of his and Bea’s inventions, no doubt.” Lady Miranda gave a little laugh. “I hope he didn’t bore you to tears about some silly contraption he and Bea were concocting.”
“Not at all.” Colin reassessed her. A good sense of humor. Attractive. Poised. Unlike...
Speaking, or rather thinking, of the red-headed nuisance, Miss Weatherby forced herself into the conversation. “Bea seemed a little preoccupied yesterday. Is she feeling well?”
“I expect it’s simple exhaustion,” Lady Miranda said, then turned her attention back to Colin. “Laurence and Bea’s son, Nicolas, was just born a little over a month ago. Bea insists on providing much of the child’s care herself.”
“Perhaps that’s where my sister got the idea, as Honoria seems to have followed suit. Odd notion not using a nurse.”
“Oh, they have a nurse, but considering they’ve had four daughters and Nicki is their only son and Laurence’s heir, well, they’re especially vigilant regarding his care.”
For several reasons, Colin understood that. “I must congratulate your brother, then. He must be relieved.”
Once more, Miss Weatherby added her unwanted opinion. “As if girls are nothing—useless, to be forgotten as soon as a boy is born.”
“Hear, hear, Miss Weatherby,” Mr. Grey said soto voce.
Colin cast a glance at Grey then turned toward Miss Weatherby. Taut frustration banded his lungs, and his rising ire matched the lift of his eyebrows. “No one implied girls are useless or forgotten. I merely said Lord Montgomery must be relieved to have an heir. Any man with a title understands the responsibility placed upon him to continue the line.”
Mr. Grey hitched a brow in return. “Which explains my ignorance, no doubt.” Before Colin could respond and explain hemeant no disrespect, Grey put the whole matter to rest. “Here come our horses. Shall we, Miss Weatherby?”
Colin held out his hand as Lady Miranda stepped onto the mounting block, but from the corner of his eye, he watched Mr. Grey perform the same action for Miss Weatherby, and his stomach tightened.
Anne slippedher hand into Mr. Grey’s, waiting for the electric sensation to slip up her arm. But like the night before, when he escorted her to supper, she felt nothing other than the pressure of warm fingers.
At least she’d begun to get used to his enormous size. She settled into the saddle of a horse the groom called Dolly, while Mr. Grey mounted the huge black horse named Hero.
“I believe that’s the horse Mr. Pratt rode during the hunt four years ago,” Miranda said, bringing up that horrible event again.
Anne would have words with her later.
Especially when she continued. “You weren’t the only one to be injured, Anne. I believe Mr. Pratt tumbled off and twisted his ankle when jumping the same group of fallen trees. So perhaps you should be careful on that black beast, Mr. Grey.”
“I think I can manage, my lady.”
