As Dominic drove the pantheon into the stable courtyard, a magnificent black stallion jerked impatiently while a groom rubbed him down.
A groom rushed to take the reins. With another glance at the horse, Dominic confirmed his first opinion. The animal was a beauty, arched along the topline with a neat head. When he walked back to the house a florid-faced, balding man of some fifty years stood on the porch. He held out his hand.
“Lord Redcliffe, good to meet you. Your note set me thinking.” He shook Dominic’s hand, then gestured indoors. “Would you care for a drink?”
“Thank you.”
Dominic sipped a glass of fine Scottish whisky in the well-appointed parlor while Jeremy Lancaster explained.
“Ordinarily, some months after spring foaling, I’d have no horse to offer you. But as it happens, I do have the stallion. But to be honest with you, Onyx is a fractious animal. He’s not suitable for hunting, and I’ve had to keep him separate. He bothers my mares. I’m considering gelding him.”
“The black stallion I saw in the yard?”
“Yes, handsome fellow, isn’t he?”
Dominic nodded. “Why is he unsuitable for the hunt?”
“He has a mean streak. Likes to have his head. Tossed one of my grooms over a hedge.”
Dominic smiled. Firefly had been of similar temperament in Portugal until they got to know each other. No one wanted the horse except Dominic, who was happy to take him on. Quite a challenge, but they’d become friends before he brought him to England. Still a moody beast, Firefly, but Dominic knew the signs and how to handle him.
He finished his whisky. “I’d like to meet Onyx.”
Lancaster smiled and put down his glass. “Let’s hope it’s a good day for him.”
In the paddock, Onyx danced agilely about, well-coordinated muscles rippling beneath sun-warmed, ebony skin. The horse turned his head to observe them as they approached and swished his tail.
Dominic walked up to him and placed a hand on the horse’s glossy neck. Onyx’s ears wriggled, and warning ripples raced across the coat beneath his fingers.
“It’s all right, fellow.” Dominic gave him a pat. He turned to Lancaster. “What’s his history?”
“Sir Hubert Lowry owned him. After his death, they sold the horse to a brute of a man who didn’t treat the animal well. I offered to buy him, and fortunately for the horse, he agreed.”
Onyx lowered his head and forcefully nudged the sleeve of Dominic’s riding coat, his teeth bared. Dominic chuckled. “I’d like to see if we will suit. May I ride him?”
“But of course. You must try before you buy.” He smiled ironically. “Although you might change your mind if he’s in an evil mood.”
Dominic grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”
While a groom saddled the horse, Dominic leaned back with both elbows resting on a rail. “I’d like a word with your steward. He worked for my uncle some months before he died. I’m told he is now in your employ.”
“Pike? He should be in the estate office. After your ride?”
Dominic nodded, watching the horse, now saddled, being led over to him. Entering through the gate, he stood for a moment while the horse observed him.
As he slowly approached, the horse pinned back his ears and his nostrils flared. Dominic spoke to him in a low, soothing tone, placed a foot in the stirrup, and swung himself into the saddle.
Onyx’s head came down, and he took off at a gallop around the enclosure, swerving and changing direction to toss Dominic off.
Dominic kept a good tight hold on the reins but didn’t force the horse to slow. “Steady boy. Steady.”
They circled the paddock twice before he reined him in. “Open the gate, Lancaster,” Dominic called.
“You’re sure, milord?”
“If you will.”
He guided Onyx through the gate and nudged his flanks. The horse needed little prompting. He careered across the grass, heading for the trees. When Onyx veered off before entering the path leading into the wood, Dominic let him have his head. He galloped to the top of a rise and along the crest and down a steep incline.
