Stranger at Stonewycke by Michael Phillips

Author:Michael Phillips [Phillips, Michael and Judith Pella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC042000, FIC026000
ISBN: 9781441229786
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2016-02-03T16:00:00+00:00

27

Heated Words

It would rain before the day was out, but Allison thought she would have a couple of hours for a ride.

Every heir to the Stonewycke legacy could ride, and Allison was no different. She didn’t care that much for horses, but riding did prove some distraction from the nearly intolerable prison that home had become.

As she walked through the old wooden stable doors, still standing open, she thought of the days long past when her great-grandmother had been a girl, when Stonewycke’s stable boasted the finest stock in several shires and a full staff to care for them—groom, stable boys, and blacksmith.

Today there were only six horses. All good ones, certainly. But there was no staff to speak of. Her father—she shuddered at the thought—cared for the horses, and Nat and a couple of the field hands cleaned out the stable when they could be spared. Mr. Dougall looked in from time to time, but when Allison thought of her father feeding and rubbing down horses, and her brother, who might one day bear the family title, mucking out the stalls, she wanted to scream.

None of the other families she knew lived like that. The Bramfords had a far smaller estate, but it was fully and properly equipped. Imagine Edward Bramford IV sweeping up horse droppings! The thing was inconceivable. Her mother preached about hard times and economy, but Allison knew her parents really, deep inside, enjoyed living this way. They would have carried on as commoners even if Stonewycke were as prosperous and mighty as it had been in its days of glory.

Someday, she thought, I may, as Mother said, be the mistress of Stonewycke. And then things will be different!

As she yanked the door open into the interior of the stable itself, she noticed a light on. Perhaps there’d be someone around, after all, to saddle up her mount.

“Hello,” she called, “is anyone in here?”

“It’s me, Miss MacNeil,” said Logan, hobbling out from the corner. “Good afternoon.”

She nodded curtly and walked to the saddle rack where she began to examine several before selecting one. She started to lift it off, then cast a quick glance at Logan.

“Do you mind, Mr. Macintyre?”

“Of course not,” he replied, “that is, if you’re in no hurry.” He smiled slightly and held up his cane to remind her of his infirmity.

“Oh, I had forgotten. I’m sorry.” Rather than remorse, her voice seemed to contain a note of annoyance.

Logan, however, was determined to be friendly. Although this girl was the most tedious person he had met in a long while, he was not going to let her sour disposition intimidate him.

“Please, Miss MacNeil,” he said, “everyone around here seems to be calling me Logan. Why don’t you do the same?”

“Mr. Macintyre,” she replied haughtily, “I hope the congeniality of my family does not cause you to forget who you are, and who we are. And I especially hope you do not plan to take advantage of their kindness. You are an employee here, nothing more.

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