“The horse was loose?” Maximilian asked. “In the foaling stable?”
“Yes. Perhaps it just got out of its stall.”
Maximilian leaned toward her, his sea blue eyes snapping. “It was black? And big?”
Eugenia’s smile faded at last. “Yes, Max. Did not Fergus explain what happened?”
“I have not seen him yet.” His jaw tensed in his anger. “But there will be explanations, or there will be hell to follow.”
“Does that not happen from time to time?” she asked. “Horses get loose on occasion, is that not so?”
“Yes,” Maximilian replied, his voice as tight as his fists. “However, I have only one big black horse, and he is a stallion. He is not stabled in the foaling building.”
Eugenia’s mouth made a wide O of shock. “Then how did he get in there? And in time to knock me over?”
“That is something I intend to find out.”
“Your Grace.” Eugenia tried to sit up, her face entreating. “I do not believe it is the fault of the grooms or of Fergus.”
Maximilian stood up. “Get your rest, Miss Betham. I will inform Lady Helena as to what happened and where you are.”
Lying back down, her expression troubled, Eugenia nodded. “Very well.”
Discreetly, out of Deryn’s sight, he brushed his knuckle down her hair in a show of affection. “I am so very glad you are not dead or more badly injured.”
“That makes two of us.”
“I will return and visit you again.”
“I will look forward to it.”
Maximilian turned before she could see the true depths of the rage he barely held in check. He strode rapidly to the door and threw it open. Mr. Leary walked toward the room with a maidservant who carried a tray with what looked like soup and tea on it. She managed a curtsey as Mr. Leary bowed.
“Once she has some food in her, Your Grace,” he said, “I will dose her lightly with laudanum. It will help her to rest without pain.”
“Thank you,” he replied, his jaw tense. “Keep me informed as to anything important regarding her.”
“I will, Your Grace.”
He hurried down the corridor and down the stairs, where he encountered Nigel awaiting him. “She will be all right, Nigel,” he said, still keeping a tight grip on his rage.
Nigel breathed a similar sigh of relief and nodded. “That is right good news, Your Grace. That young miss has made herself quite popular around here.”
“Will you send for Lady Helena? I wish to speak with her when I return from the stables.”
“Shall I send her out there to meet you?”
Maximilian walked on, shaking his head. “In the solar. I should inform my stepmother of this as well.”
“Very good, Your Grace.”
The sunlight quickly faded from the sky, sinking into the west beyond the moors as he entered the foaling stable. Perhaps having seen him approach, Fergus stood waiting for him with a ready bow.
“Your Grace,” he said, his voice as calm and steady as always. “May I inquire as to Miss Betham’s condition?”
“She will be all right.” Maximilian let some of his anger show as he paced down the aisle toward the area Eugenia said the horse struck her. Fergus paced at his side, clearly unafraid of the ducal rage.
“Care to tell me what happened?”
