The Christmas of a Countess by Linda Rae Sande

Author:Linda Rae Sande [Sande, Linda Rae]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twisted Teacup Publishing
Published: 2017-10-23T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

An Encounter in the Stables

A few minutes later at Torrington Park

The soft neighs of Friesians as well as the odor of manure greeted Milton as he made his way into the stables of Torrington Park. Necessary for the planting and harvesting of the crops grown in the nearby fields, the large beasts were rarely out of the stables when winter covered the rolling hills of Northumberland. He had spent the past half-hour regarding the terrain around the hunting lodge, wondering if the harvest would be better than this past year’s. Northumberland hadn’t faired as poorly as some lands to the south, but he knew the people here wouldn’t survive another year if the cold continued.

A snort and a bit of stomping had him stopping at the stable of the largest horse.

“Good to see you, too,” he said, pulling open the huge wooden door imprisoning the beast. The hinges made a sound of protest as he did so, a reminder of the cold. Having grabbed a brush from the wall of tools just inside the entrance to the stables, Milton gave the huge horse a pat on his withers and began brushing him. The quiet, even strokes allowed him the time to think, although he would have preferred the numbness found at the bottom of a bottle of scotch just then and had half a thought to simply return to the lodge and lock himself in the study.

There were too many weapons on the wall in there, though. If Adele found him, she might use one of the lances to impale him.

Probably after she used the mace to throttle him.

He gave an involuntary shudder at what else she might do with the weapons of war that could be found in the ancient study.

“Haven’t seen you in a year,” he murmured quietly. His comment was answered with a short snort, a puff of white rising from the Friesian’s nostrils. “A good deal has happened since then. I married the love of my life,” he murmured as he gave the Friesian a long stroke across his back. “I cannot tell you how different life is with a wife.”

The horse suddenly lifted his head, as if he agreed with the earl.

“Best decision I ever made,” Milton said as he continued to brush the beast. “I could have married any one of a dozen women, but I didn’t,” he continued, as if the horse could understand his every word. “I waited until I had the opportunity to marry the one woman I knew was perfect for me.”

A whinny had him pausing in his ministrations. The Friesian had side-stepped a bit in the stall and turned his head, as if he found it necessary to regard the earl with both eyes.

“Don’t argue with me,” Milton ordered with a shake of his head. “I knew I would marry her back when she was still in the schoolroom,” he stated in no uncertain terms. “She was my best friend’s sister. Always knew I would marry her.”

The horse bobbed his head again, stepping so he faced the earl before he gave his head a shake.

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