“Of course,” Maximilian said, his tone full of irony. “Come to the castle of accidents and take wagers on what will happen next.”
Unable to curb her irritation at Maximilian, who gestured and asked the butler to bring him bacon and eggs, Augusta wished heartily that Maximilian had not come down to breakfast. “Perhaps you should go lie down, Maximilian.”
He raised an insolent brow. “I have not had my breakfast. Besides, I just rose from my bed. I am not in a hurry to return to it.”
“You do not look well is all I am saying. You should rest.”
He laughed. “I do not wish to be rude to our guests. Lord Whitington, perhaps you would care to join me later. I would value your advice on the breeding of a black stallion to a grey mare and what color the foal might be.”
As Maximilian neatly and expertly nipped the conversation from her control, Augusta clenched her fists in her lap. She glared at him from beneath her brows and silently vowed he would not win.
Somehow, insolent boy, you will wish you had never crossed me. Somehow, you will pay.
Chapter 19
Aching in too many places to count, Eugenia slowly ate her breakfast with Deryn’s assistance, a tray on her lap as she swallowed the porridge. Though that had never been one of her favorites, it tasted good and filled her with its heat. “I need to get out of this bed,” she told Deryn. “I cannot sit here for much longer without going out of my mind.”
“You must not rush it,” Deryn said. “Mr. Leary says you must rest and regain your strength.”
“I am strong enough,” Eugenia groused. “I just hurt all over.”
“Why did that horse attack you? I thought horses were gentle creatures.”
Eugenia smiled over her spoon. “He did not attack me, sweetheart. He was running, and I could not get out of his way in time.”
“But rumors say he is vicious.”
Eugenia wiped her lips with her napkin, unable to eat any more porridge. “I will never believe an animal is born mean,” she said slowly. “From what I have been told, the horse is difficult to handle, but he has not been gelded because of his value as a breeder.”
“What does that mean?”
Eugenia gazed at her friend, this simple kitchen maid who has known nothing save hard work for little pay her entire life. She worked almost nonstop from before dawn to well past midnight, had no family save Mr. Simmons and the other kitchen staff, and knew next to nothing of anything outside the castle. Eugenia felt grateful enough for her own life – raised by a cook and butler who loved her, and a grand opportunity as a ladies’ maid to Lady Helena. She was also well aware how easily her life could have matched Deryn’s.
“It simply means he makes nice babies.”
“Oh.” Deryn nodded as though she understood when in truth she did not.
“Maybe one day you and I can take a walk to the stable?” Eugenia said brightly. “I can show you the little foals.”
Her eyes wide and her mouth a round O, Deryn slowly shook her head. “Oh, no, I could never do that. I must work in the kitchen.”
Eugenia recognized the other girl’s fear and shrugged. “I do not think His Grace would mind, Deryn. He is a truly nice man.”
“How lovely for you to say so.”
Eugenia whipped her head around to find Maximilian standing in the doorway, grinning at the two of them. Her smile of welcome drooped as she saw the state he was in – massive bruises, his wrist in a bandage and his heavy lean on a walking stick. “Your Grace! What happened?”
She barely registered Deryn’s panicked curtsey and her retreat into a corner as Maximilian limped toward her. He nodded in Deryn’s direction. “You have a chaperone, Miss Betham. That is good, so thus I may sit with you awhile without destroying your reputation.”
“Has Mr. Leary seen to you?” she asked, trying to reach his left wrist. “Please, tell me what happened.”
Maximilian sank into the chair next to the bed with a sigh. “I do believe I have more bruises than you, Miss Betham. Shall we strip off our clothes and compare?”
Blushing and unable to control her shocked giggles, Eugenia covered her mouth with both hands. Though it hurt to laugh, she could not seem to stop. “Your Grace! What will Deryn think of us?”
He cocked an eye toward the shivering girl in the corner. “What do you think, Miss Deryn? You can count our bruises for us and make the judgment.”
“Your Grace,” Eugenia hissed under her breath. “You are frightening her. Please stop it.”
