Page 68 of Gambling with the Earl
His riding boots rang out against the stone flags of the great hall. When he stepped outside, a slight summer breeze rifled through his hair. The sky was powder blue; the air warm and welcoming. It was a beautiful day, but Guy cared nothing for it. He strode towards the stables, looking neither left nor right, scattering stable hands in his path.
“My lord.” The groom nodded politely.
Guy put his hands on his hips. “Is my horse well rested?”
“He is, my lord. I’ve never seen him so settled.”
Guy didn’t believe it, but when he paced over to the stall, his horse was peacefully munching hay. His head was lowered, his eyes liquid calm. Guy stroked his silken neck and the horse breathed softly into his hands.
“We are returning to the life we know,” Guy told him.
His horse was bred for battle. No wonder he had struggled with the dull tedium of civilian life. But after several weeks, he had adjusted to the quiet rhythms of the castle.
Just like his master.
Guy lifted his eyes to the spot he had last seen Kitty. It was achingly benign. Straw-strewn cobbles. A low wooden beam. Horse blankets, neatly folded on a cracked chest. He had declared his true feelings moments before discovering her dishonesty. The memory still twisted like a dagger in his gut.
He leaned his head against the horse’s powerful shoulder and breathed deeply, quelling a rising tide of emotion.
Have I been too harsh with her?
As if hearing the question spoken out loud, the horse snorted and pushed his nose against Guy’s belly.
“You think so?” He pulled the creature’s ears, unwittingly replaying their final conversation as he had so many times before.
“I wanted only to provide a better future for my sister,”she’d said.
An admirable motivation, for anything but theft and deceit. Deceit againsthim. When he had only ever shown her kindness.
A groan swelled inside him and he bit down on his lip lest the sound come out and the stable boys hear his anguish. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth.
Would he have been driven to such extremes to provide a better future for Angus, were he ever given the chance?
Yes, the answer came from deep within him. He would have, in a heartbeat. But not if it meant lying to Kitty. She was the oneperson he would prioritise above all others. Even his younger brother.
This time he couldn’t push back the torrent of memories. He closed his eyes and nausea swirled in his stomach as images from that fateful day in his youth cascaded through his mind.
“Take your brother out riding,” his father had demanded. “Go beyond the estate, onto the cliffs. I’m putting you in charge. Make a man of him.”
Fifteen-year-old Guy had murmured a protest. “Angus is no natural horseman. He’s happier riding here in the paddocks. What need is there to frighten him on the cliffs?”
His father’s brow had darkened further. “Who are you to question me, boy?”
Guy had complied, leading a reluctant Angus out onto the Forbisher cliffs on a wild, blustery day, when gusts of wind spooked the horses even more than the crashing white-tipped waves below them.
“Don’t communicate your fear to the horse,” Guy had instructed his grey-faced brother, who had only just celebrated his tenth birthday.
But both horses were in a state of terror, snorting and prancing and refusing to go beyond a natural bend in the coastline. Moments later, as his mare reared up beneath him, Guy discovered why. A group of wild boars, grunting and growling their intent, came out of the trees. Angus cried out as his horse bucked in distress.
“Hold on,” Guy shouted. He reached into his belt for the dagger he always carried, gripping with his thighs as his mare shied to the side.
Two small boars came into view and Guy’s fingers stilled on the handle of the dagger. The boars were only protecting their young.
“Steady, girl,” he said to his mare. “Turn back,” he said to Angus. “They won’t follow us.”
He lowered his weapon, took his eyes from his target.
Disobeyed his father’s golden rule.Never lower your guard.
