“Well, when we were children—and then yesterday.”
“Youmust stay on with us, I hope you know,” she said, walking again. “As long as you are able. You will be our guest.”
“Thank you. I find myself too desperate to refuse your offer.”
“Desperate?” asked Elise.
“Yes, well, there’s more to the story than simplythe old betrothal. I’ve come because of a conflict of interest with your cousin? A man called Maurice? But first...” and now she cleared her throat “. . . if I’m meant to stay, can I trouble you to admit my maid into your servants’ quarters? I’ve left her cooling her heels in the carriage, and she becomes agitated in small spaces.”
Chapter Seventeen
The stables at Mayapple were thoughtfully designed and outfitted with every modernization. No expense had been spared. Gabriel had barely noticed, following his brother-in-law blindly around the paddock, grateful to be away from the house. But then he entered the barn, and he stopped short. A row of horses, their coats healthy and eyes alert, studied him from large stalls. On the opposite wall, tack and feed were organized like instruments in a surgeon’s theater. The floor of the aisle had been raked and the straw lining each stall appeared fresh. Gabriel drifted to the horse in the first stall, a rose-gray gelding, and fingered his well-brushed mane.
“Look at you,” he mumbled to the horse, running a hand over the light speckling on his coat.
“Elise has little interest in horses in general, but she’s intrigued by exotic coloring. I’ve just bought a leopard stallion from America. The pregnant mare is champagne.”
Gabriel walked by every animal, slowly perusing the stalls. When he’d seen and touched and whispered to each horse, Killian led him to the pregnant mare.She ambled about a larger pen near the washing yard, belly heavy but eyes calm.
“My first attempt at breeding,” Killian told him. “Both sire and dam belong to us here at Mayapple. Gratifying to be sure, but distressing if there’s some complication. I’m sailing with no compass and the veterinarian in Marlborough is overwhelmed. He serves all of Middlesex and half of Wiltshire. There’s no one in Pewsey. I’ve been reading up on foaling for months, and general opinion indicates no need for medical assistance. Even so, the larger she grows, the more nervous I become.”
“May I?” asked Gabriel, eyeing the beautiful ivory horse. She seemed unbothered by Gabriel’s scrutiny and did not spook when he climbed into the pen. She clomped over to sniff his pockets and nibble at his hat. It was a good sign; well-treated mares were curious and unafraid.
Touching her, whispering to her, felt like a brief respite from the overwhelming farewell to Ryan and the subsequent reunion with his sister. He ran his hands over her slick coat, tracing the muscled contours and listening to her contented whinnies and snorts. Gabriel moved around her, feeling her belly, examining a scratch on her hip. For a quarter hour, he asked questions and examined the stall where Killian intended for her to give birth. Next he followed Killian to the paddock outside to observe the sire. His brother-in-law gave him access to every corner of the stables and answered every question with no defensiveness. It occurred to Gabriel that he wouldn’t mind calling on clients in their home stables if they were as open and agreeable as Killian Crewes. His guardian, Samuel,had had a strong preference for working alone, deep in the forest, with no input from owners; he’d believed house calls to private stables led to owners treating him like staff. There were also quarrels with other trainers and no distraction for the animals. Killian, in contrast, regarded Gabriel a little like an oracle. The deference was unnecessary but preferable to being treated like a stable boy.
In the end, Gabriel told his brother-in-law the mare appeared healthy and should foal in about a month. Killian swiped off his hat and hung his head in relief.
“I never fancied myself a horseman,” Killian said. “I’m an amateur architect and builder. But one horse turned into two; two turned into three—and now here we are. They weren’t necessarily on the agenda, but I refuse to neglect them.”
The two men stood beside the paddock, elbows resting on the fence slat, watching grooms lead Killian’s small herd out to graze.
“She’s called Oyster—the mare,” Killian said. “The girls named her. I’m aware that you rarely see horses outside of your camp and I should like to pay you for your time.”
“You owe me nothing,” Gabriel said. “You have delivered my sister. I am in debt to you.”
“Your sister delivered herself. And me, for that matter.”
“Even so.”
“My gratitude then,” Killian said. “I’m fortunate to have your opinion—your esteem in the horse world is legendary. In fact, it was Elise’s search for you that started me on the path to building a stable. Everybreeder seemed to know of the elusive healer calledGabriel Rein.”
“I regret keeping myself so removed from Elise.”
“Yes, well, I’ll leave that for the two of you to discuss whenever she manages to pin you down about it. I am loathe to discuss my own complicated family, so you’ll not find me hounding another poor sod.”
Gabriel grunted, grateful for the reprieve. He hadn’t lied, he realized, when he admitted regret for hiding from Elise. He’d kept away for too long. He’d thrown himself onto the stoop with no real plan. He meant only to stand between Ryan and the dogs. But he was glad his impulsiveness allowed him to see his sister. He wanted to meet his nieces and brother-in-law. Appointing words to this felt precipitous—like proclaiming the arrival of spring on the last day of February—but the regret was gone.
“What can you tell me about this earl’s daughter?” Killian asked.“Lady Ryan?”
Gabriel rolled his shoulders. And now he felt the prickly discomfort of an obligation he couldn’t fulfill.
“I’m not asking about your own circumstance, mind you,” added Killian, “I’m an ally to you, just to be clear. But I’ll be prevented from entering the house if I don’t learn something about why the two of you have come.”
Gabriel stared at the horses, considering how to answer. He would rather not reveal the stone-cold panic that Ryan represented to him; but God knew he needed advice.
“Lady Ryan,” Gabriel said, “is being bullied into marrying the man who now holds my title. I’m presumed dead and he’s the cousin who inherited. Thisman—Maurice is his name—is an avaricious, petty opportunist; and she has no wish to marry him. He’s refused to takenofor an answer and been rather forceful about it—violent, even. Lady Ryan and her sisters have little protection from him. Their father is alive but very ill. Their estate is large and ancient but depleted. In her desperation, she sought me out for help.”
Killian made a low whistle—a sound that acknowledged the significance but also the relief that it wasn’thisproblem. For some reason, this response made Gabriel chuckle. Perhaps Gabriel didn’t need advice so much as someone to curse the impossibility of it. Perhaps he needed a friend.
