Thea made her way past the grays. So far, all of the horses housed here were very fine indeed and all were standing, asleep, their gorgeous manes trailing along their muscled necks.
Thea was beginning to worry that Alabaster was housed elsewhere when she came to the largest stall at the far end of the row. She could see the shadow of the large black horse. He was standing up. The moon outlined his graceful form.
It was him. It was Alabaster. She’d know him anywhere, even in the darkness. She quickened her pace. As she approached the stall, the horse snorted. Did he smell her? Did he know she was near? She swallowed hard. Tears stinging her eyes. At long last. Here was her horse. Her boy. He may have been only a foal when she’d last seen him, but she’d know him anywhere and he appeared to remember her.
She approached the stall door with a mixture of excitement and caution. She didn’t want to frighten him or excite him enough to make a louder noise. She stopped in front of the door. Heart thundering in her chest, she extended her hand, a smile on her face as the horse stepped forward to nuzzle her palm.
“There you are, my boy,” she whispered as tears fell down her cheeks. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”
He remembered her. She could tell. She smoothed her hand over his velvety nose and muzzle. She pulled an apple from her pocket. One she’d brought specifically for this purpose. When he was a foal, he’d loved the apples she’d sneaked to him.
She stood there in silence, marveling at how big he was. How magnificent. “You were in Portugal, weren’t you?” she whispered finally. “I’m certain you did the King proud.” She rubbed the horse’s nose again.
The horse snorted again and stamped his hoof. “Don’t worry, Alabaster,” she whispered. “I’ve made a bungle of this, but I’m going to bring you home. I promise.”
Thea thought for a moment about how she’d got here, sneaking into her neighbor’s stables at night. Shehadbungled everything. It had been a mistake making an enemy of Lord Clayton. As a result, he’d refused to allow her to see her horse. And he had that power. Of course she wasn’t about to allow it to stop her, but she realized now that she’d made a cake of herself in front of the viscount. No doubt she’d seemed like a selfish child. No doubt she was.
One of the other horses whinnied and Thea’s heart caught in her throat. She slipped into the shadows on the far side of Alabaster’s stall and pressed herself against the wood planks, heart hammering in her throat. A few tense moments passed before footsteps clomped on the stairs coming down from where the stablehands slept. Thea swallowed hard. She had to get out of here.
Did she have time to run for the door before whoever was coming made it to the ground floor? From the sound of the steps, the staircase was somewhere in the middle of the stables.
She had little time to think. She had to run for it.
Trying to remain in the shadows, she launched herself toward the enormous barn doors. They were locked and there was little chance she could open one herself, given their size. She had to make it back through the window she’d entered.
A large door in the middle of the nearest wall opened just as she shimmied through the window.
“Hey, there. You, stop!” came a male voice as she pushed herself through the window and landed on the cold, wet grass outside. She wasn’t about to stop. Instead, she jumped up and ran toward the closest corner of the building.
Whoever was behind her was attempting to pull himself through the window too. He was still yelling at her to stop. Based on his voice, it sounded like an older man. The stablemaster, perhaps. As she turned the corner to the other side of the stables, the moon illuminated her path back toward the treeline. She had no other choice but to run. Not stopping to think, she sprinted across the field. Her feet flew beneath her kicking up clumps of grass as she went.
A commotion back at the stables met her ears as the man who’d seen her was obviously calling for assistance and other stablehands were waking up and joining him, but she didn’t dare look back. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on the tree line and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She’d always been fast. Thank heavens. Turned out chasing after her older brother all those years had been good for something.
She sprinted directly into the tree line and made her way through the copse of trees. Not until she was safe within its depths and at the side of her pony, did she dare to look back. Lanterns were ablaze in the stables and there were already stablehands spreading out across the meadow to search for her, but to Thea’s profound relief, they were all headed in the direction of the house and the lane that led up to it. They were all moving south. She was in a copse of trees due north. Thank heavens. If she left the way she’d come and stayed in the tree line, they wouldn’t see her. She hoped.
She quickly hoisted herself atop the pony and set off at a brisk pace that only increased as she left the grounds of Lord Clayton’s estate. She didn’t breathe easily until she was back at her house, and safely tucked inside her own bed.
As she turned over on her mattress and adjusted the pillow beneath her head, she smiled to herself. She’d got to see Alabaster. Her beloved boy. And he’d remembered her. She’d told Maggie the truth. She had no intention of stealing the horse. Stealing was beneath her. But she couldn’t stand to know that Alabaster was there. So close. Without visiting him. Something about Viscount Clayton’s refusal to even allow her to see the animal had made her even more stubborn than usual.
She’d nearly been caught, but it had been worth it. And despite the danger, she would go back and see her horse again. Perhaps just one last time … before the first snow fell.
CHAPTER NINE
“I’m sorry to bother you, my lord. But the horse thief returned tonight,” said Humbolt, his form a silhouette inside Ewan’s bedchamber door.
Ewan pushed himself up against the pillows and rubbed his tired eyes. “What bloody time is it, Humbolt?” he demanded.
“It’s nearly two in the morning, my lord,” Humbolt replied.
Ewan cursed under his breath. This was the second night in a row he’d been awoken from a sound sleep to the news that a thief had been chased out of his stables.
“Did he manage to steal anything tonight?” Ewan asked.
“No. Mr. Hereford chased him off again.”
Ewan arched a brow. “He’s not much of a horse thief, is he, Humbolt?”
Humbolt shook his head. “He was near the Arabian’s stall again, my lord.”
