hardships of his life, through all the small indignities and the large obstacles, she had surprised him by aiding him in every way with a beautiful smile.
Throughout the morning she'd seemed determined to prove herself, and he was fast losing his desire to distress her with his handicap. Yet now she'd suddenly changed and become nervous.
It was his stallion, he was sure of it. Everything had been fair, until he'd explained to Analise how he intended to get up on Xavier’s back. She stood before him quite obviously worried. Her delicate eyebrows were furrowed, while the depth of blue in her eyes held a lost look that seemed nearly fearful.
“Little nightingale, come here,” he said with a gentle voice.
Analise’s gaze cleared, but then she hung her head and fastened her eyes on her toes, beginning to speak slowly, “My papa used to call us that. His two little nightingales, he would say.” She took two hesitant steps forward, peeking at him from beneath her golden lashes. “I mean our real father. His hair was the color of sunflower petals. He would laugh ... I remember the rumble in my ear when he held me and laughed.” Two more steps and she was standing next to his outstretched legs, near his knees. “He told me it was all right to be afraid of his horse and he was certain with time I would grow surer of myself and cease being afraid. Only papa could never have known about Armand.”
Donan clasped Analise’s wrist and pulled gently, until she floated down onto his lap as he tried to divine the meaning of her hesitant confession. He had inklings, but for the moment he cared more to just hold her. Aye, he wanted to hold her until she no longer looked so lost or fearful. But at the same time he had to admit to himself his plan wasn't going to work. He was going to have to help her and she was going to have to help him.
Analise was a gentle lady who'd been forced to witness the harsh cruelty of men, and yet she remained true to her own sense of honor. Donan thought not many maids would have been able to withstand those torments, and yet Analise retained the essence of her true upbringing. It tore at his heart as he listened to her confession that she feared horses. A fear compounded by that bastard Armand.
Donan stroked Analise’s silky golden tresses as she laid her cheek to his chest with a sigh and he rested his chin on top of her head. Then, he arrived at a purpose. “Did you know my stallion’s name is Xavier?” His chin moved with Analise’s response as he tightened his arms about her. “He bows to ladies—”
Before he could finish, Analise responded quickly making him smile, and astutely lift his chin out of the way as she raised her head in disbelief.
“No, truly?” Her voice held the breathless surprise of an inquisitive child as she studied his face as if by hard scrutiny she could judge the truth.
“Aye, lass, turn and watch.” Donan helped Analise turn a bit in his lap, then he voiced the command that he had taught Xavier to approach. “ S’advancer! ”
The black stallion stepped toward them, choosing that moment to snort, which sent Analise twisting and burrowing into his chest. “Oh!” she squeaked.
Donan needed no further evidence that she was afraid of his bold stallion and he couldn't blame her, in this instance, because this type of war horse was bred for their girth and size and fearsome aspect. Xavier had been trained as a warhorse and had served him well in many battles, especially the last battle where he was felled from Xavier’s back. Shancy had told the story many times of how Xavier had stood guard over his Master's broken and bleeding body, until Shancy could reach them.
Nevertheless, since then Xavier had been retrained in a much different method, until Donan had to admit that Xavier was no more than a beloved pet. His fierceness was gone, for the sake of the more practical need to serve his crippled Master, and now he was no more than an overgrown pup.
“
Throughout the morning she'd seemed determined to prove herself, and he was fast losing his desire to distress her with his handicap. Yet now she'd suddenly changed and become nervous.
It was his stallion, he was sure of it. Everything had been fair, until he'd explained to Analise how he intended to get up on Xavier’s back. She stood before him quite obviously worried. Her delicate eyebrows were furrowed, while the depth of blue in her eyes held a lost look that seemed nearly fearful.
“Little nightingale, come here,” he said with a gentle voice.
Analise’s gaze cleared, but then she hung her head and fastened her eyes on her toes, beginning to speak slowly, “My papa used to call us that. His two little nightingales, he would say.” She took two hesitant steps forward, peeking at him from beneath her golden lashes. “I mean our real father. His hair was the color of sunflower petals. He would laugh ... I remember the rumble in my ear when he held me and laughed.” Two more steps and she was standing next to his outstretched legs, near his knees. “He told me it was all right to be afraid of his horse and he was certain with time I would grow surer of myself and cease being afraid. Only papa could never have known about Armand.”
Donan clasped Analise’s wrist and pulled gently, until she floated down onto his lap as he tried to divine the meaning of her hesitant confession. He had inklings, but for the moment he cared more to just hold her. Aye, he wanted to hold her until she no longer looked so lost or fearful. But at the same time he had to admit to himself his plan wasn't going to work. He was going to have to help her and she was going to have to help him.
Analise was a gentle lady who'd been forced to witness the harsh cruelty of men, and yet she remained true to her own sense of honor. Donan thought not many maids would have been able to withstand those torments, and yet Analise retained the essence of her true upbringing. It tore at his heart as he listened to her confession that she feared horses. A fear compounded by that bastard Armand.
Donan stroked Analise’s silky golden tresses as she laid her cheek to his chest with a sigh and he rested his chin on top of her head. Then, he arrived at a purpose. “Did you know my stallion’s name is Xavier?” His chin moved with Analise’s response as he tightened his arms about her. “He bows to ladies—”
Before he could finish, Analise responded quickly making him smile, and astutely lift his chin out of the way as she raised her head in disbelief.
“No, truly?” Her voice held the breathless surprise of an inquisitive child as she studied his face as if by hard scrutiny she could judge the truth.
“Aye, lass, turn and watch.” Donan helped Analise turn a bit in his lap, then he voiced the command that he had taught Xavier to approach. “ S’advancer! ”
The black stallion stepped toward them, choosing that moment to snort, which sent Analise twisting and burrowing into his chest. “Oh!” she squeaked.
Donan needed no further evidence that she was afraid of his bold stallion and he couldn't blame her, in this instance, because this type of war horse was bred for their girth and size and fearsome aspect. Xavier had been trained as a warhorse and had served him well in many battles, especially the last battle where he was felled from Xavier’s back. Shancy had told the story many times of how Xavier had stood guard over his Master's broken and bleeding body, until Shancy could reach them.
Nevertheless, since then Xavier had been retrained in a much different method, until Donan had to admit that Xavier was no more than a beloved pet. His fierceness was gone, for the sake of the more practical need to serve his crippled Master, and now he was no more than an overgrown pup.
“
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