Anne Barbour by Lord Glenravens Return Page A

“That’s much too prosaic. How about Premier? Or maybe,” she added, laughing, “First and Foremost. Oh, dear, now I’m becoming ridiculous.”
    “I think,” said Jem softly, observing the glow that shimmered about her, “you should call him Claudia’s Pride.”
    “The very thing!” exclaimed Jonah.
    Claudia gasped in confusion, and felt a tide of heat rush to her cheeks. “Oh, no—I couldn’t. Could I?”
    “Don’t see why not,” returned Jonah. Jem said nothing, but the smile in his eyes spoke for him.
    Claudia turned to look once more at the colt, still intent on the business at hand. Jenny stared at him bemusedly before extending a long, pink tongue to clean the birth residue from his dusky coat.
    “All right,” said Claudia slowly, her eyes shining with pleasure. “I think Claudia’s Pride sounds wonderful. Although,” she continued, still gazing at the colt, “I think from the looks of him—he’s black as an imp of Satan, after all—his stable name will no doubt be Goblin.”
    Jonah stirred himself and moved to the nearby table and took up a bottle of cleaning solution, which he applied to the stump on Goblin’s belly where the umbilical cord had been severed. He turned to the other two, watching avidly.
    “There ain’t much left t’ do here. Whyn’t you two run along? I can finish up.”
    Claudia suddenly realized how very tired she was. It must be after three in the morning, and she had not yet been asleep when she was summoned by Jonah. It had been a long, eventful day. She smiled gratefully at her stable man and turned to leave the building, Jem in her wake.
    Once in the house, she turned, but the brisk good night she had been about to utter died on her lips as Jem placed a hand under her elbow and guided her farther along the dark corridor. She was instantly conscious of the strength of his fingers and fought a panicky urge to pull away from him.
    “You know,” he said meditatively, “after all this excitement, you’ll never be able to get to sleep. I think what you need right now is a very large glass of some very good brandy. Luckily, I know precisely where such a commodity may be obtained.”
    Without giving her an opportunity to resist, he led her into the butler’s pantry.
    “Oh, my!” said Claudia. “No, I don’t think ...”
    “Nonsense,” replied Jem in a severe tone of voice. “You don’t want to offend the help, do you?” Going to a cupboard in the rear, he fetched a decanter. “I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess as to how Morgan came by this excellent cognac, or the armagnac next to it, but I applaud his taste.”
    It was impossible, of course, thought Claudia in a spurt of desperation. What kind of a woman would be found sitting in a secluded chamber in the middle of the night drinking with her butler, for heaven’s sake? To her astonishment, however, she found herself sinking into the chair pulled out for her in one, smooth motion. Well... the words crept cravenly into her mind ... perhaps this was the opportunity she had been looking for to find out more about this mysterious young man.
    She surveyed him nervously as he took tumblers from the cupboard and poured a more than generous dollop of brandy in each. Placing the glass before her with a flourish, he sat down opposite her at the small table occupying the center of the room. Her glance skimmed over the black hair tumbled in disarray, and fell unawares into the silvery eyes that returned her gaze with amusement. Startled, she looked elsewhere and was brought up short by the sight of the strong column of his throat exposed by his open shirt. That garment, which by the way, was fashioned of a rather more luxurious grade of linen than would be found on the average servant, did little to conceal the splendid set of muscles that moved sinuously beneath it. His slim elegance was most deceiving, she considered warily. She took a deep breath.
    “How—?” she began in a great rush, but was forestalled by