without any choice,”
Mrs. Cameron defended herself before the Earl could speak. “She forgot herself with one of the carrier’s
lad from that delivery we had from London. I can’t have that kind of an example before
the other maids. They are good girls, and their families expect that they will
be around respectable folk at the Castle.”
“I trust your handling of the staff,
Mrs. Cameron. I appreciate the notice,
but I have never interfered in your domain.”
“I just thought you ought to know,”
the housekeeper informed him, using a time-honored phrase. She bustled away down the hall with her load
of linen, leaving Hugh to change into dry clothes, and return to the crackling
blaze in the library hearth.
But after an hour before the fire,
and with a satisfying meal under his belt, the Earl felt restless and the
thought of a lazy afternoon spent reading, or going over the estate accounts,
did not appeal at all. Looking out the
leaded windows of the library, the sky almost looked like clearing, and shards
of sunlight were breaking through the grey clouds. His keeper had warned of an approaching
storm, but there was no sign of it at present. The hounds lounging before the fire raised their heads, and looked
longingly at their master.
His expression softened at their
hopeful looks, and deciding that Rufus could use a good gallop, he pulled the
bell and requested that a groom saddle his stallion and bring the horse around.
Mounted on Rufus, the Earl urged
him into a gallop, and with his two hounds racing along behind him, he gave the
horse his head. The animal lengthened his stride, racing along
under the gathering grey clouds. Occasionally the clouds parted enough to allow a shaft of golden
sunlight to break through, but as the Earl got farther from the Castle, these
sun breaks were fewer and fewer. He
slowed Rufus, and headed him up a rocky path that lead to an outcropping that allowed a spectacular view of the moors. This had been a favorite play area when he
was a child, a series of shallow caves nearby making the perfect background for
fighting dragons, or defending the realm with the crusaders. As he looked out over the grey horizon, Hugh
saw a rider mounted on a dainty brown mare picking its careful way across a
rocky burn down on the moor, the skirts of her riding dress whipping about in
the Scottish breeze.
Just then, a loud crack of thunder
overhead resounded overhead. Rufus
attempted to rear, and it took Hugh a moment to get the frightened horse under
control. When he was able to, he looked
to see how the other rider had fared. The dainty brown mare had reacted much as Rufus had, and Hugh watched
appreciatively as the rider stayed atop the startled beast as it reared on its
hind legs, pawing at the air. When all
four legs were on the ground, the rider leaned forward and Hugh could see her patting
and calming the animal. A flash of
lightning filled the sky, followed only seconds later by an even louder
boom.
Hugh turned Rufus, and as the storm
gathered and worsened, he raced his stallion across the moor towards the other
rider.
“Hey, there!” he called as he
approached, but the wind whipped his words away. He was only fifty feet away when the young
rider looked up from the difficult task of just staying seated on her stamping
and rearing horse and noticed his approach.
Hugh pressed forward until he was
close enough to bring Rufus alongside the brown mare, and grasp the
bridle. Hard rain drops began pelting
down and Hugh squinted against the assault and looked over to meet the blue
eyes of his lost, red-haired spitfire.
Sally, elated by the first good
gallop she’d had in ages, had been taken totally off guard by the first loud
sounds of the approaching storm. The
sheer exhilaration of riding across the starkly beautiful moors had made her
forget her ills for the first time in weeks. It had taken every bit of her
Mrs. Cameron defended herself before the Earl could speak. “She forgot herself with one of the carrier’s
lad from that delivery we had from London. I can’t have that kind of an example before
the other maids. They are good girls, and their families expect that they will
be around respectable folk at the Castle.”
“I trust your handling of the staff,
Mrs. Cameron. I appreciate the notice,
but I have never interfered in your domain.”
“I just thought you ought to know,”
the housekeeper informed him, using a time-honored phrase. She bustled away down the hall with her load
of linen, leaving Hugh to change into dry clothes, and return to the crackling
blaze in the library hearth.
But after an hour before the fire,
and with a satisfying meal under his belt, the Earl felt restless and the
thought of a lazy afternoon spent reading, or going over the estate accounts,
did not appeal at all. Looking out the
leaded windows of the library, the sky almost looked like clearing, and shards
of sunlight were breaking through the grey clouds. His keeper had warned of an approaching
storm, but there was no sign of it at present. The hounds lounging before the fire raised their heads, and looked
longingly at their master.
His expression softened at their
hopeful looks, and deciding that Rufus could use a good gallop, he pulled the
bell and requested that a groom saddle his stallion and bring the horse around.
Mounted on Rufus, the Earl urged
him into a gallop, and with his two hounds racing along behind him, he gave the
horse his head. The animal lengthened his stride, racing along
under the gathering grey clouds. Occasionally the clouds parted enough to allow a shaft of golden
sunlight to break through, but as the Earl got farther from the Castle, these
sun breaks were fewer and fewer. He
slowed Rufus, and headed him up a rocky path that lead to an outcropping that allowed a spectacular view of the moors. This had been a favorite play area when he
was a child, a series of shallow caves nearby making the perfect background for
fighting dragons, or defending the realm with the crusaders. As he looked out over the grey horizon, Hugh
saw a rider mounted on a dainty brown mare picking its careful way across a
rocky burn down on the moor, the skirts of her riding dress whipping about in
the Scottish breeze.
Just then, a loud crack of thunder
overhead resounded overhead. Rufus
attempted to rear, and it took Hugh a moment to get the frightened horse under
control. When he was able to, he looked
to see how the other rider had fared. The dainty brown mare had reacted much as Rufus had, and Hugh watched
appreciatively as the rider stayed atop the startled beast as it reared on its
hind legs, pawing at the air. When all
four legs were on the ground, the rider leaned forward and Hugh could see her patting
and calming the animal. A flash of
lightning filled the sky, followed only seconds later by an even louder
boom.
Hugh turned Rufus, and as the storm
gathered and worsened, he raced his stallion across the moor towards the other
rider.
“Hey, there!” he called as he
approached, but the wind whipped his words away. He was only fifty feet away when the young
rider looked up from the difficult task of just staying seated on her stamping
and rearing horse and noticed his approach.
Hugh pressed forward until he was
close enough to bring Rufus alongside the brown mare, and grasp the
bridle. Hard rain drops began pelting
down and Hugh squinted against the assault and looked over to meet the blue
eyes of his lost, red-haired spitfire.
Sally, elated by the first good
gallop she’d had in ages, had been taken totally off guard by the first loud
sounds of the approaching storm. The
sheer exhilaration of riding across the starkly beautiful moors had made her
forget her ills for the first time in weeks. It had taken every bit of her
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