Page 24 of A Duke Changes Everything
“I do.” The two words came out breathy and earnest. Like a plea.
He simply watched her, but it seemed a small victory that he didn’t offer a scathing retort about Enderley in reply.
“Go back inside, Miss Thorne. Dawn will be here soon.”
“You won’t burn anything else?”
“Not tonight.” He almost smiled. The edge of his lush upper lip edged upward a smidge.
Mina felt the urge to say more, to extend this fledgling bit of goodwill between them. “Do you not possess any fond memories of Enderley?”
“My mother,” he said immediately. “She’s my only happy memory of this place.”
“We put flowers on her grave every season.”
“What grave?” All the openness in his gaze vanished, replaced by wariness. Anger. “My mother is buried... elsewhere.”
For a moment, Mina stood in stunned silence. “But there was a funeral. There’s a plaque next to your father’s in the family crypt. Why would he tell everyone she’s buried there?”
“Because he was mad.” He shook his head and stepped away. “I’ll never tell that story. To anyone.” He waved toward the house. “Go to bed, Miss Thorne. There’s much to do tomorrow, and I need to leave this godforsaken place as soon as I can.”
He stormed off, long legs stretching into an enormous stride as he headed back toward the house.
Mina remained rooted in place. His anger came on quick as a summer storm. It seemed to pass quickly too. Yet there were also hints of charm and humor.
Whatever his emotions—rage or irritation or amusement—the new Duke of Tremayne was dreadful at hiding his emotions. They seeped out, glowing as fierce as a furnace fire in his eyes.
A sound drew her gaze to the field beyond the stable yard. The tree she’d climbed earlier in the day stood out against the indigo sky. And then another outline appeared. A horse approached, its reins dragging on the ground.
It wasn’t like Tobias to let an animal get out of the stables at night.
Mina started forward, slowing her pace when the creature began to shy. The stallion was lithe and sleek, not one of the Tremayne workhorses. She knew them all by heart.
“Where did you come from?”
The creature stalled, dipping its head to munch grass. Mina tiptoed the rest of the way, holding her breath until her fingers brushed one strip of its leather rein.
She held her hand low, allowing the horse to take in her scent, giving him time to determine that she intended no harm.
Then she glimpsed the sheen of his flank in the moonlight. Long dark wounds had been cut into his flesh, and blood trickled down his coat. The stripes were the length and shape of a whip.
“Who did this to you?” Her throat burned as she ran her fingers into his mane, stroking his velvety neck. “Doesn’t matter. We have a place for you.”
“Miss?” Tobias came out to meet her when she led the horse into the stable yard.
“He’s injured. We need to clean him up, give him some supper, and let him know he’s safe.”
Tobias reached out to stroke the horse’s forelock, but he cast Mina a dubious look. “Who’s he belong to?”
“We can worry about that tomorrow.”
“But he belongs to someone, Miss Thorne. Fine piece of horseflesh like this, I’d suspect Lord Lyle.”
Mina suspected the same, but she wanted nothing to do with Lyles.
“If he’s Lord Lyle’s, then the viscount or his horse trainer is an ogre.” She couldn’t bear cruelty, especially toward those who were weak and trusting.
“He’ll want his stallion back.”
