Page 47 of The Burdened Duke
Miss Brookford began to look wary instead of confused. William’s lungs were on fire. He skidded to a halt, gripping Miss Brookford’s shoulders and hauling her bodily away from the fence.
The horse snorted again, lowering its head like a bull about to charge. William tried to drag the woman further away, but she struggled, attempting to yank her arm free from his grip.
“William, what are youdoing?” she gasped.
She succeeded in pulling her arm free, only to lose her balance, slipping on the uneven ground. She would have fallen heavily if William had not snatched desperately at her, winding one arm around her waist and pulling her close with athudthat knocked the breath out of both of their bodies.
Then clarity seemed to trickle in, and it occurred to William just how much of a raving fool he had been. And, of course, that he now had his armaround a woman’s waistand was holding her close.
He released her at once. She stepped back, red-faced, and drew in a deep, fortifying breath.
“What,” she said carefully, “are you doing, your Grace? Have you gone mad? You are acting as if you are.”
She called me William.
The thought came from nowhere, burrowing its way through William’s head and making a home at the front of his mind. He swallowed hard. No doubt her slip-up was due to surprise, or perhaps stress. He could hardly complain about her informality when he had come rushing towards her at full speed, yelling like a fool.
“My apologies,” he said, breathless, “but I saw you feeding that horse from my study window.”
“Are you the one who called me a foolish girl?” Miss Brookford asked at once, eyebrows lifting.
He flushed. “I… I did not think. I just reacted… I hope you can forgive me.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed, shaking her head. “You’re our host. I suppose I must forgive you.”
“That’s not the case at all, Miss Brookford. I should never have… I did not mean to… oh, heavens. I’m making a mess of this. The thing is, that horse is dangerous. Quite dangerous. You shouldn’t go near it. Did none of the grooms tell you?”
She shrugged. “I didn’t see a groom. I didn’t see anyone. I came to find my horse, Stepper, but I saw this beautiful creature, and I thought… oh, he can’t be dangerous. He’s as sweet as anything. Didn’t you see him taking carrots from my hand? He was so gentle.”
William bit his lip. “Miss Brookford, you have no idea of the danger.”
“Tell me, then. What is the danger?”
He missed a beat. “None of your concern.”
“None of my concern?” Miss Brookford repeated, folding her arms tight across her chest. “You shout at me from a window, come racing out like a madman in your shirtsleeves – my mother would have an apoplexy if she saw you talking to me now, by the way – and then you grab me and all but tackle me to the ground. You ramble on about danger but do not offer any explanations. And you tell me it’s none of my concern? I beg to differ, your Grace.”
William bit his lip. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed that the horse was looking at him critically, too.
Perhaps I deserve it.
He closed his eyes briefly. “The situation is complicated, Miss Brookford.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that so? I’m sure a clever man like you can summarise it. Do try and explain.”
William drew in a deep, shaky breath. He found his gaze drawn over Miss Brookford’s shoulder to where the horse stood, entirely still, dark eyes fixed on him.
“That horse killed my father, Miss Brookford.”
There was a long, taut silence after that. Miss Brookford blinked up at him, disbelief, horror, and understanding crossing her face in rapid succession.
“Oh,” she said at last, voice small. “Oh, I did not… I didn’t know that.”
William smiled wryly. “So you see what I mean when I say that the horse is dangerous, Miss Brookford. He had not been ridden much before my father bought him, and not at all afterwards. He might harm you, and I should be responsible for that.”
She swallowed. “I had no idea, your Grace. Truly. I…” she trailed off, her gaze darting over his shoulder. He turned to see the butler huffing and puffing his way towards them, clutching one of William’s jackets.
He bit back a smile.
