Page 59 of Her Duke By Accident
“What is it, Mr. Monroe?”
“I—” he glanced at the swinging barn door, through which Lucy had disappeared.
Alicia tilted her head expectantly. “If there’s nothing else?”
“Perhaps it is not wise to pry,” he finally said in a rush.
“Not wise?”
“I am no one here at Garvey,” he explained. “But… what has happened in its halls has touched everyone in some kind of way. I cannot speak for the other staff here, but we don’t speak of it.”
Alicia sighed. “I am well aware of how none of you speak of it, Mr. Monroe,” she said, pulling the horse toward the exit. “Whateveriteven is,” she added under her breath.
“Did you ever think about why, Your Grace?”
“Why what?”
“Why it isn’t spoken.”
She paused at the threshold.
Mr. Monroe stepped closer. “Once, when I was very young, my older brother dropped me.”
Alicia scoffed. “Mr. Monroe.”
“He dropped me right on my forehead,” he hurriedly continued, lifting his cap to show a scar that stretched across his skin. “And my brother, poor boy, thought the fall might’ve changed me. Made me into one of those lame children who couldn’t catcha ball even if they tried. But I felt right enough, and I could stand straight like before. If employers like the late duke knew he’d hired a stable hand who might have an… incident with his livestock, they wouldn’t have hired me in the first place.”
“I’d be lying if I said I understood why you told me this, Mr. Monroe.”
He sighed. “We never told anyone, Your Grace.”
“What does that change? You still fell.”
“But no one knows it,” he said. “It is about respect, Your Grace. What sort of respect would I have had if they knew? If they knew Monroe’s boy was a lame?”
Alicia narrowed her eyes at him. “So,” she spoke slowly, “you’re telling me that whatever happened during the duke’s youth here at Garvey remains unspoken out of… respect.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Respect for whom?”
Suddenly, the doors to the barn swung open as Lucy poked her head in.
“Didn’t we come out here to ride, Alicia?” she whined loudly.
“Of course,” she called back. “Go ahead, Lucy, I’ll be right behind you.”
The girl slunk back outside as Alicia turned to meet Mr. Monroe’s gaze once more.
The stable hand smiled nervously. “Enjoy your ride, Your Grace.”
Before she could manage another word, the stable hand disappeared out of the barn’s other side, going off to continue his daily chores. Alicia, with Periwinkle’s reins wrapped around her palm, left the barn to follow after Lucy.
Lucy struggled with the small Ginger, who neighed and stomped her hooves against the ground noisily. “I don’t think she quite likes me!”
“Pet her, Lucy,” Alicia said, standing next to the calm Periwinkle.
Reaching up with a nervous hand, Lucy grazed her fingertips against Ginger’s mane, and the young horse responded with more anxious kicks.
