sticking from behind one ear.
But Lucinda had never seen such a look of fury on a man’s face. Her betrothed was a storm about to break. She almost pitied Badgemagus.
“Weel, that’s that,” Mr. Gow said mournfully. “The horse’ll run back to his stall now and I’ve lost the chance to sell him and buy him back by dealing too honest.”
Lucinda cast him a tight-lipped grimace. “You failed to tell Lord Alexander of the horse’s true faults. How is that honest?”
“I insisted the lad try to ride him, did I no’?” Mr. Gow headed for the ladder. “Handsomer than that, ye couldna wish.”
Lucinda snorted. Then she looked back at Alex. The horse didn’t seem to be running away. It stood by the hedge, ears pricked forward as Alex pushed through a gap in the greenery. He spoke to the gelding.
Instantly, the horse hung his head with every appearance of contrition. But to Lucinda’s great relief, Alexander didn’t try to mount the beast again. Instead, he collected the slack reins and began leading Badgemagus back to the stable at a determined pace, stopping from time to time to berate the horse with another verbal blistering.
Lucinda marked the fact that her betrothed had a black temper. Granted, the beast had warranted it, but she wondered what it would take for her to see that English storm headed her way.
She decided she didn’t want to find out.
“I’ll take him,” Alex said once he and Badgemagus finished their uphill trudge to the stable.
Mr. Gow eyed him with suspicion. “Did ye suffer a clout to the head in yer fall?”
“No. I’m perfectly sensible.”
The way Lucinda rolled her eyes, it was obvious she agreed with Mr. Gow.
“But the horse is no good to ye,” she insisted. “Ye canna ride him.”
“Not yet,” Alex said. “But I will. What will you take for him?”
He haggled with Mr. Gow over the price long enough not to be thought a total dupe and bought the tack along with the gelding. Badgemagus might be no prize, but his saddle was crafted of fine-grained Spanish leather and the halter and bridle was its perfect match.
It didn’t matter if Badgemagus was the worst example of a horse in equine history. It didn’t matter if the sky opened in a downpour when they traveled to Dalkeith on the morrow. Alex was determined not to be trapped in an enclosed coach where he’d be outnumbered by the MacOwen females all the way to the Christmastide house party.
It was bad enough that his future was being outnumbered by them.
“Ye do seem to have a way with horses, even if he did unseat ye in the end,” Lucinda said as they walked back to her great-aunt’s house with Badgemagus trudging head down behind them on a tether. “What did ye say to calm him so after ye . . . well, there toward the end of your . . . ride?”
“I instructed him a bit about his namesake,” Alex said. “The first King Badgemagus was attached to King Arthur’s court, you see. He dearly desired to become a knight of the Round Table, but never quite cut the mustard. After many sorry misadventures, he was accidentally killed.”
“And that story settled the beast down?”
“No. He settled when I promised if he didn’t shape up, his demise would be no accident.”
“Once a betrothal has been established, an unwary lady may be tempted or cajoled into relaxing her moral standards. Nothing could be more dangerous . . . or more exciting.”
From The Knowledgeable Ladies’ Guide
to Eligible Gentlemen
Chapter Five
“I’ll no’ be havin’ me great-nieces spirited off in the company of an English heathen with no one to tend to the proprieties o’ things,” Hester exclaimed on the rare bright December day when all the MacOwen girls were finally bundled into the waiting coach that would take them to Dalkeith.
“Now just a moment,” Alex said, taking a stand between her and the loaded coach. “I may be an indifferent churchgoer, but I’m no heathen.”
Hester gave him her best
But Lucinda had never seen such a look of fury on a man’s face. Her betrothed was a storm about to break. She almost pitied Badgemagus.
“Weel, that’s that,” Mr. Gow said mournfully. “The horse’ll run back to his stall now and I’ve lost the chance to sell him and buy him back by dealing too honest.”
Lucinda cast him a tight-lipped grimace. “You failed to tell Lord Alexander of the horse’s true faults. How is that honest?”
“I insisted the lad try to ride him, did I no’?” Mr. Gow headed for the ladder. “Handsomer than that, ye couldna wish.”
Lucinda snorted. Then she looked back at Alex. The horse didn’t seem to be running away. It stood by the hedge, ears pricked forward as Alex pushed through a gap in the greenery. He spoke to the gelding.
Instantly, the horse hung his head with every appearance of contrition. But to Lucinda’s great relief, Alexander didn’t try to mount the beast again. Instead, he collected the slack reins and began leading Badgemagus back to the stable at a determined pace, stopping from time to time to berate the horse with another verbal blistering.
Lucinda marked the fact that her betrothed had a black temper. Granted, the beast had warranted it, but she wondered what it would take for her to see that English storm headed her way.
She decided she didn’t want to find out.
“I’ll take him,” Alex said once he and Badgemagus finished their uphill trudge to the stable.
Mr. Gow eyed him with suspicion. “Did ye suffer a clout to the head in yer fall?”
“No. I’m perfectly sensible.”
The way Lucinda rolled her eyes, it was obvious she agreed with Mr. Gow.
“But the horse is no good to ye,” she insisted. “Ye canna ride him.”
“Not yet,” Alex said. “But I will. What will you take for him?”
He haggled with Mr. Gow over the price long enough not to be thought a total dupe and bought the tack along with the gelding. Badgemagus might be no prize, but his saddle was crafted of fine-grained Spanish leather and the halter and bridle was its perfect match.
It didn’t matter if Badgemagus was the worst example of a horse in equine history. It didn’t matter if the sky opened in a downpour when they traveled to Dalkeith on the morrow. Alex was determined not to be trapped in an enclosed coach where he’d be outnumbered by the MacOwen females all the way to the Christmastide house party.
It was bad enough that his future was being outnumbered by them.
“Ye do seem to have a way with horses, even if he did unseat ye in the end,” Lucinda said as they walked back to her great-aunt’s house with Badgemagus trudging head down behind them on a tether. “What did ye say to calm him so after ye . . . well, there toward the end of your . . . ride?”
“I instructed him a bit about his namesake,” Alex said. “The first King Badgemagus was attached to King Arthur’s court, you see. He dearly desired to become a knight of the Round Table, but never quite cut the mustard. After many sorry misadventures, he was accidentally killed.”
“And that story settled the beast down?”
“No. He settled when I promised if he didn’t shape up, his demise would be no accident.”
“Once a betrothal has been established, an unwary lady may be tempted or cajoled into relaxing her moral standards. Nothing could be more dangerous . . . or more exciting.”
From The Knowledgeable Ladies’ Guide
to Eligible Gentlemen
Chapter Five
“I’ll no’ be havin’ me great-nieces spirited off in the company of an English heathen with no one to tend to the proprieties o’ things,” Hester exclaimed on the rare bright December day when all the MacOwen girls were finally bundled into the waiting coach that would take them to Dalkeith.
“Now just a moment,” Alex said, taking a stand between her and the loaded coach. “I may be an indifferent churchgoer, but I’m no heathen.”
Hester gave him her best
Similar Books
