She looked askance at him. “Why do I think there is more meaning behind your words than I know?”
“Because there is?”
Her eyes widened before she laughed. “Marcus, you are a tease. We are in public with a preponderance of horses. I doubt even you could be anything but a gentleman.”
She made a good point. He gave her an exaggerated sigh. “Then I shall be on my best behavior, but only for you.”
Tapping his arm lightly, she returned her gaze to the crowd of men talking, walking about, or viewing the horse her sister had spotted. “And for my family and your mother and—what is he doing?”
He reluctantly moved his gaze from her excited profile to the area she nodded toward. Beneath the columned walkway, where a long line of men stood, a groom walked an Irish Hunter past them. “He’s letting the buyers see the horse in motion before it goes up for auction.”
She snapped her head around toward him. “They’re selling horses today?”
“Yes, every Monday. Would you like to purchase one?”
Her brows knit and her gaze moved away as she gave the idea consideration. She shook her head. “No. I would rather learn all there is to know about buying at auction, so I might come back in the future more knowledgeable about the proceedings.”
Her answer didn’t surprise him. She was not the type of woman to act on impulse, always in control, always having a plan. It was this calm about her that had originally attracted him to her, that, and her horsemanship. “Then I suggest we tour this fine establishment so that I might teach you all that I know, though to be honest, it’s been a few years since I was last here.”
“That may be true, but that still means you have far more experience than I do. I can’t explain what a pleasure it is to be here and learn all there is to learn.”
Her words, though delivered with a confidant smile, sent a chill through him. Hedidhave much more experience in both life and death, and even in wishing for death. An overwhelming need to protect her filled him and he scanned the crowd, looking for threats.
“Marcus?”
“Yes.” Was that a groom or someone who didn’t belong?
“What’s wrong?”
The man he’d been watching moved around a corner and came out with a horse. Seeing no threat, he gave Mariel his attention once again. “Nothing is wrong. Would you like to see an auction or the stables first?”
“I think the stables. Are they very large? How many horses are housed there? Do they come from all over England? Are they for riding or for coaches? Oh, maybe there are some from working the fields?”
He swallowed a chuckle at her enthusiasm and turned them in the direction of the building, happy to move her away from the crowd. “The horses come from all over England but also beyond. The only horses sold here are for riding or for coaches. Yes, the stable is large. It can hold over a hundred animals.”
Her step faltered, and she gripped his arm. “Over a hundred?”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Yes, but they are usually only here a few days before being purchased and the stables aren’t always full. There are also carriages and hounds for sale.” He could tell she was no longer listening. Either the subject was of no interest, which could be the point, or it was that she’d caught a glimpse of the building.
“It is good to see how my horses have come to be mine. Not all, of course.”
He led her toward the large open doors where he could see only a few gentlemen milling about and more groomsmen. “Did Zephyrus come from here?”
She shook her head without moving her gaze from the stable entrance. “No. I purchased him from a lord who didn’t want him.”
“Why wouldn’t he want such a magnificent beast?”
She halted as they stepped onto the brick floor of the building, her gaze sweeping the stalls. “He said the stallion was uncontrollable and since he wasn’t fast enough to breed race horses, he didn’t want him.”
She’d never told him that. Even now, barely paying attention to her own story, she didn’t see how surprising it was that she could ride Zephyrus easily. She was his perfect mate. Why had fate been so cruel? What had he done in his youth to deserve losing such a woman?
“This is quite impressive, not just in size but in how well kept it is. I can see why people feel comfortable buying from here.” As if drawn to the animals, she started forward again. “What a beautiful Arabian. She will be well-liked.” They moved to the next stall where a young gray gelding with black spots stood watching her. “This one has a lot of spirit. Do you think it’s a race horse?”
“I would expect so.” He enjoyed horses, but watching her study them and draw conclusions was far more interesting. He could tell she was excited by the way she held her head and the quick movements of her eyes.
“Oh, isn’t she pretty?” She stopped them before a Thoroughbred. “She looks young.”
“I agree. She’d make a good horse for a well-bred lady.”
