Will Jethro kill someone? Cut, Daniel…me?
Grey clouds and a faint dusting of mist dulled the vibrancy of the estate. It was magical as much as it was depressing.
Kes noticed my shivering. He stopped.
Holding out the gun, he waited until I took it, then shrugged out of his thick tweed.
The weapon was morbidly heavy. I was only too happy to trade it for the soft wool of his blazer. “You don’t have to—”
“I know.” He slung the tweed over my shoulders, encasing me in his masculine scent of musk and heather. “But I want to.”
“I can’t take it.” I tried to slip it off. “I won’t need it when I start running.”
“Fine.” He narrowed his eyes. “Only trying to be kind.” The pain flickering in his gaze made me keep it on and place an icy hand on his forearm.
His head snapped up.
“Kes…are you okay?”
He snorted, shoving aside his melancholy unsuccessfully. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I looked back at the Hall. It sat ominous and frightening, casting shadows over the hibernating gardens. “You miss him, too. Don’t you?”
His nostrils flared. “We shouldn’t talk about it.”
“Why not? You said all secrets were mine to know.” I smiled, despite the awfulness of the circumstances. “I’m not going anywhere, and I have no one to tell. The world believes I’m marrying into your family. My brother’s reputation is ruined, and my father is a ghost of the man he used to be. What would be the harm in trusting me?”
“You have a point.” For a moment, he looked disgusted. With what? What his family had done to mine? Or that I had the audacity to ask him to trust me?
Finally, he sighed. “I wouldn’t say this in front of anyone else, but...” He inched closer, ducking to whisper in my ear, “I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened.”
For the tiniest moment, my heart fluttered. He was so uncomplicated compared to Jethro. He kept things hidden—his true agenda being one—but I felt as if he only had one layer beneath his exterior, not thousands.
I placed my hand over his, squeezing in gratitude. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
The moment stretched on for longer than it should; we both jumped away guiltily.
Clearing his throat, Kes asked, “I’m going to get the foxhounds. Want to come to the stables?”
Huddling deeper into his jacket, I nodded. “Why not? Perhaps it’s not a day for running, after all.”
“Well…if you’re not going for a run, I have a much better idea.”
Holding out his arm, he waited for me to loop mine with his. His smile was still tainted, but life sparked in his eyes. “Let’s go do something fun.”
Fun.
I envisioned a drink in a warm boudoir or hanging out with friends while playing a board game, or even watching a movie with popcorn.
But apparently, that wasn’t what Kes had in mind.
Entering the stables, he placed the shotgun in the tack room and motioned for me to follow. We headed into the long cobblestone-paved building where countless horses rested in cubicles. The floor was scattered with sweet smelling hay and the air temperature was warm and inviting. Scents weaved with the comforting aroma of horse and leather.
My tension dissolved, slipping down my spine and leaving my shoulders free from the choke of worry and deliberation.
Jethro said he would save me.
But Kes saved my mental state by reminding me normalcy still existed. Animals were still there to lick away my sorrows, and the sun still rose on days not so bleak.
I needed reminding of that.
Considering I’d never been around horses growing up, something about them tamed my anxiety, giving me a place to hide and regroup.
Kes smiled, moving between the stalls; horses watched with glossy gazes and pert ears. He stopped halfway down the aisle. A long, grey face and the gentlest black eyes popped over the railing. The horse nuzzled his pockets, nickering softly.
Moth.
I moved faster, still madly in love with the dapple grey that I’d travelled to the polo tournament with.
Kes grinned as Moth switched her attention to me. Her velvet nostrils huffed, seeking oats and other treats as I reached out to stroke her powerful neck. “Hey, girl.”
She pawed the ground, the metal of her shoe clinking against cobbles.
“Wait there.” Kes disappeared to the end of the stables, then came back holding a rosy apple. “Here you go.”
I took it.
Moth followed the fruit with sniper-like attention.
“I just feed it to her?”
Kes nodded. “Put it on your palm and keep your fingers flat. You don’t want her to bite you accidentally.”
Great.
I eyed Moth hesitantly. Her neck strained over the railing, trying to get at the apple. When I didn’t move, Kes chuckled.
“Don’t be afraid.” He stole my hand, bent my fingers till they were flat, then shoved me forward. “Can’t tease the poor girl.”
The second I was within biting distance, Moth pinched the apple from my hand. A loud crunching noise filled the stables. Every other horse pricked its ears, alerted to the sound of treats and the fact that they weren’t getting any.
Apple juice dripped from her lips, plopping onto the dusty floor.
Kes laughed. “She’ll do anything for sweets. She’s a nutcase for molasses.”
I raised my hand, patting between her eyes. Moth nudged closer, demanding more cuddles, telling me exactly how she wanted it.