“No horse is a wild beast,” Marjorie replied knowingly, “only those who seek to harm them are beasts. The horse was only doing what his ancestors have taught him since the beginning of time.”
“No truer words have ever been spoken!” the man said, agreeing as he clapped Marjorie soundly on the back. She flinched from the touch at first, then remembered that a man wouldn’t shrink back from a gesture of congratulations. She forced herself to grip the man’s elbow briefly in a congenial way.
This isn’t what you wanted! she thought fearfully. You were supposed to come in unnoticed and find an employer, not make yourself a spectacle!
“You there! Stop!” a man shouted, and suddenly, it seemed as though everyone went silent again. Marjorie turned to look in the direction they were all staring and saw a familiar face striding towards her.
“That is my horse,” the man began, his voice strange and distant.
“Of course, sir. I wasn’t going to—” Marjorie replied, but he cut her off.
“How did you do that?” His voice was still stern, and Marjorie didn’t look up at his face. “He is completely unbroken, I’ve only just acquired him from a breeder who sailed with him here from Africa. Yet you managed not only to calm him when he was wild but to ride him as well? How is that possible? What is your name, boy?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I only meant to… that is, I didn’t want him to be hurt, sir,” she stammered, now very afraid of being discovered. “I knew he is yers and I didna have yer permission…”
The man waved her off. “Nonsense. That is of no concern. You saved a great many people and protected other horses at the same time. Of lesser importance—but still quite a crucial matter to me—you saved this horse from a rash decision that would have been necessary out of safety. For that, I commend you and give you my heartfelt gratitude.”
Realizing she was not in any trouble, Marjorie chanced a look up at the horse’s owner and her heart sank. His reddish-brown hair and green eyes were rather distinctive, of course, but what was etched in her mind was the haughty scowl, the air of superiority that she’d endured at dinner with the Dowager Countess Lanercost.
* * *
Evan looked at the young man for a few seconds, certain that he’d seen him before. There was something eerily familiar about his face, his eyes. He would have stared longer, trying to recognize him and ease his intrigued mind, but it wouldn’t have been proper to stare so.
Evan shook his head slightly. He was unable to place him, though, no matter how much he tried. He was left to assume that he must have crossed paths at some event such as these, or perhaps while visiting the stables of another member of the peerage. The young man before him had averted a disaster of untold consequence, yet even he seemed not to fully realize it. And how could the young man know of these matters?
Had Evan’s stallion harmed someone or even another horse, there would be no end to the shame, let alone the expense of it. And as he’d genuinely said, the investment he’d put into this horse was more than many families lived on in a year. He’d gone to great risk to bring the stallion to England in hopes of introducing the beautiful animal’s lineage into Evan’s stable’s bloodline.
And it had been an even greater risk in bringing the horse to Hawthorne Stakes. Since his horse, so new to him that it did not yet have a name of registry, would not be racing, Evan had not intended for it to ever leave the small paddock he’d had built for this event. He’d only brought it to pique the curiosity and interest of those who may wish to purchase one of this stallion’s sired foals. When he discovered the identity of the hapless individual who’d opened the paddock, there would be no end to the punishments.
It was yet another incident in an endless stream of sabotage, Evan thought. Someone was determined to drive him into ruin, and they cared not whether they harmed innocent creatures as the means. For his part, Evan was equally determined to thwart this person at every turn.
“Lad, who’s your employer?” Evan asked once people started to drift away, the excitement having faded.
“None, sir. I’ve come here hoping to find a position,” Marjorie answered, looking down again.
“And your name?”
“Jonathan, sir. Jonathan… Gregg.” Marjorie scrambled to think of a family name and settled upon the Duke of Fenworth’s given name.
“Gregg, I need to hire you on. There is a position in my employ for someone with your skills and your knowledge. Do you accept?”
Marjorie hesitated, but eventually said, “Aye sir. ‘Twould be an honor.”
“Good, then that’s settled. See my stable master over there,” Evan replied, pointing to Donohue who was giving the skittish stallion some water, “and he’ll handle all of the particulars.”
“Yes, sir. Very good, sir.” Someone nudged Marjorie sharply from behind and hissed, “My Lord,” in her ear. “I mean, very good, My Lord.”
Evan strode off, leaving Marjorie to wander off into the crowd before making her way to Donohue. He was now even more sure that he’d met the young man before, and he worried that it might perhaps eat away at him if he couldn’t remember.
Ah, well, it will come to me, he thought, still trying to steady his nerves after the horrible incident had taken place.
“Donohue,” Evan began, coming up next to his stable master. “I’ve learned the name of the young horseman who saved us from this awful crisis. He’s agreed to come to work for us.”
“That is wonderful news, My Lord!”
“Yes, I’ve given him your name, when he arrives to speak with you, see to it that you describe the position. Also, I was too flustered to think on it clearly, please see that he gets this for his troubles.”
Evan handed the other man a small purse of coin.
