Stop,” she pleaded.
“Hold him now,” said Hugh, as Manifesto dragged Ellie across the paddock. “Give us a chance to tie her up.”
“Easy boy, easy,” Ellie begged. She tried to circle Manifesto away from the waiting mare but with her weakened arms he simply toted her along. The men scattered as he reared to mount. With her head free, the mare bucked and moved aside, causing Manifesto to miss. He snorted and bit the errant mare on the neck, holding her firmly in place as he mounted again.
Ellie averted her eyes. Damn Uncle Sebastian, she thought. Riding astride is fine for a woman, but breeding he protects me from?
She tried to look at anything but the eager, grunting stallion. That’s when she noticed the grin plastered across Hugh’s face. “You’re the only one who can handle him,” he said, and shrugged.
Humiliation and embarrassment competed in her soul. Ellie gritted her teeth, steeled herself, and looked again at Manifesto. But the horse was so … so … thoroughly engaged, she had to turn away.
A groom laughed his fool head off. Hugh turned his back to her, but his shoulders shook.
“Scoundrel, rake, rogue, rotter,” she muttered. She’d loathed Hugh Davenport before, but now she out-and-out despised him. Leading the satiated stallion back to the barn, she whispered, “I’ll get you out of here, Manifesto, if it’s the last thing I do.”
• • •
“There’s a Mr. Coopersmith here to see you, my lord,” the butler announced, with a tinge of regret. Hugh tossed aside a newspaper he’d been reading. “Send him right in,” he said. He couldn’t wait to hear her complain about the morning’s activities.
The bedraggled wench stepped into the library.
“Ah, Toby, how can I help you?” he asked, lifting Sport, his spaniel, from a cushioned chair and motioning her to sit down.
She lowered herself onto the upholstery, lost her balance in the deep cushioning, and tipped backward, her legs flying into the air. Heat suffused her cheeks as she scrambled for the edge of the chair, clinging to the arm rests. Hugh coughed to cover his laughter.
“You ought to do something about that cold,” she said, eyes icy.
“Drafts — they’re a nuisance.” Even dusted with barn dirt and wearing raggedy breeches she was attractive. He decided he liked her caustic wit — irksome, but exciting.
“I’m asking permission to leave, sir,” she said.
That was a shock. He’d thought she had a little more spunk. “I was hoping you could stay on a bit longer,” he said. “It’s going to be harder taming Manifesto without you.”
“I didn’t mean leave permanently,” Ellie snapped. “I need to get back to the Albright stables to give notice and return their gelding.”
“Oh.”
“And when I return, I’ll expect to have a room ready for me.”
“You will, eh?” Remembering her white skin, the water droplets coursing down her slim figure, he wondered if finding her a room could be postponed. “Just get back as quickly as possible,” he said. “I’ll work on finding you suitable accommodations.”
“And I’ll not be mucking stalls again, will I, my lord?”
“Not necessarily.”
“So you’ve got your stable boys back then? I witnessed quite a crowd of them at supper.”
“Yes, well … ”
“And your trainers seemed fairly spruce for having lifted dung all morning. Unlike myself, my lord.”
“The other barns weren’t affected by the shortage.”
“You see, at the Albright stables, the trainers train the horses. When I came here, I expected the same treatment. If I was mistaken, we need to re-negotiate my employment.”
Impudent chit, I ought to boot her out the door and say farewell, he thought.
“And you won’t be racing Manifesto without me,” she added, predicting his thoughts. “He won’t move for you.”
She spoke the truth and Hugh knew it — and he wasn’t anxious to give Manifesto another chance to shred his clothing. Besides, he had a few life
“Hold him now,” said Hugh, as Manifesto dragged Ellie across the paddock. “Give us a chance to tie her up.”
“Easy boy, easy,” Ellie begged. She tried to circle Manifesto away from the waiting mare but with her weakened arms he simply toted her along. The men scattered as he reared to mount. With her head free, the mare bucked and moved aside, causing Manifesto to miss. He snorted and bit the errant mare on the neck, holding her firmly in place as he mounted again.
Ellie averted her eyes. Damn Uncle Sebastian, she thought. Riding astride is fine for a woman, but breeding he protects me from?
She tried to look at anything but the eager, grunting stallion. That’s when she noticed the grin plastered across Hugh’s face. “You’re the only one who can handle him,” he said, and shrugged.
Humiliation and embarrassment competed in her soul. Ellie gritted her teeth, steeled herself, and looked again at Manifesto. But the horse was so … so … thoroughly engaged, she had to turn away.
A groom laughed his fool head off. Hugh turned his back to her, but his shoulders shook.
“Scoundrel, rake, rogue, rotter,” she muttered. She’d loathed Hugh Davenport before, but now she out-and-out despised him. Leading the satiated stallion back to the barn, she whispered, “I’ll get you out of here, Manifesto, if it’s the last thing I do.”
• • •
“There’s a Mr. Coopersmith here to see you, my lord,” the butler announced, with a tinge of regret. Hugh tossed aside a newspaper he’d been reading. “Send him right in,” he said. He couldn’t wait to hear her complain about the morning’s activities.
The bedraggled wench stepped into the library.
“Ah, Toby, how can I help you?” he asked, lifting Sport, his spaniel, from a cushioned chair and motioning her to sit down.
She lowered herself onto the upholstery, lost her balance in the deep cushioning, and tipped backward, her legs flying into the air. Heat suffused her cheeks as she scrambled for the edge of the chair, clinging to the arm rests. Hugh coughed to cover his laughter.
“You ought to do something about that cold,” she said, eyes icy.
“Drafts — they’re a nuisance.” Even dusted with barn dirt and wearing raggedy breeches she was attractive. He decided he liked her caustic wit — irksome, but exciting.
“I’m asking permission to leave, sir,” she said.
That was a shock. He’d thought she had a little more spunk. “I was hoping you could stay on a bit longer,” he said. “It’s going to be harder taming Manifesto without you.”
“I didn’t mean leave permanently,” Ellie snapped. “I need to get back to the Albright stables to give notice and return their gelding.”
“Oh.”
“And when I return, I’ll expect to have a room ready for me.”
“You will, eh?” Remembering her white skin, the water droplets coursing down her slim figure, he wondered if finding her a room could be postponed. “Just get back as quickly as possible,” he said. “I’ll work on finding you suitable accommodations.”
“And I’ll not be mucking stalls again, will I, my lord?”
“Not necessarily.”
“So you’ve got your stable boys back then? I witnessed quite a crowd of them at supper.”
“Yes, well … ”
“And your trainers seemed fairly spruce for having lifted dung all morning. Unlike myself, my lord.”
“The other barns weren’t affected by the shortage.”
“You see, at the Albright stables, the trainers train the horses. When I came here, I expected the same treatment. If I was mistaken, we need to re-negotiate my employment.”
Impudent chit, I ought to boot her out the door and say farewell, he thought.
“And you won’t be racing Manifesto without me,” she added, predicting his thoughts. “He won’t move for you.”
She spoke the truth and Hugh knew it — and he wasn’t anxious to give Manifesto another chance to shred his clothing. Besides, he had a few life
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