Page 50 of The Trouble with Anna

“Aren’t you splendid!” Anna reached up to give the lovely fellow a good scratch below his forelock, which he accepted with a gracious swish of his tail. He stamped his front foot, not in impatience, but as if to show himself to the greatest advantage.

“Take him to the mews,” Charlotte called to the groom.

The crowd groaned.

“Steady on, Lady Charlotte!” cried a young man with a mop of brown hair and impossibly round cheeks. “I’ll have you know my father was prepared to make Petersham a very handsome offer for this horse.”

“Pasha Efendi is alwayspreparedto do things,” Charlotte called as she waded through the crowd toward Anna. “Perhaps he should prepare less and act more?”

Anna trotted alongside as the groom led the horse away. “What’s his name?”

“Charon, my lady.”

Anna gasped. “As in one of the moons of Pluto? He’s not fromPluto’sline, is he?”

“Exactly right, my lady. He—”

Someone jostled Anna before she could hear the full answer. “Watch yourself!” she cried, with a hard glare at the crowd.

A tall gentleman bounded over. “Clear off, you dogs!” he called. “Let the ladies through.”

“I say, Hartley! Unfair!” the Pasha’s son complained, but the tall man was unmoved by this bit of eloquence, and slowly the crowd, muttering and grumbling, began to thin.

“Well done, Lord Hartley. Thank you!” Charlotte said when they were safely in the mews.

“I only drove the bounders off so I could get a good look myself.” The man beamed and little wrinkles appeared around his eyes. He was young but well-weathered, as if he spent a lot of time outside on bluff days, whistling for his hounds. “A Lipizzaner, and such a beauty!”

Anna ran her hands down Charon’s muscled shoulder and followed the line of his leg down to where his dappled coat turned a darker gray, like snow meeting ash. A Lipizzaner out of Pluto himself, one of the great founding stallions of the line. Charon was a perfect example of the breed, his haunches thickly curved with muscle, his neck arched below a strong jaw. There were very few Lipizzaners in the world, most of them seen at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, where some of the finest horsemen in the world took the breed through a challenging training program that could last more than six years. Anna itched to toss a saddle on Charon’s back and take him through his paces.

The groom bowed to her. “My lady, his lordship asked me to present Charon to you with his compliments.”

Oh, right. The bubbles fizzing inside Anna all popped at once. She pointedly ignored the slim ivory envelope the groom held out to her.

Charlotte swiped it. “At least open the note.”

“Fine!” Anna snatched it back, and Charlotte nudged up to read over Anna’s shoulder.

Anna –

You wreck my good sense. I hope this fellow will wreck yours enough to forgive me.

—Julian

Charlotte bounced on her toes. “Well, I call that pretty. And a Lipa-whatzer is a marvelous present, isn’t it?”

“Marvelous,” Anna said flatly.

“Marvelous for you, perhaps,” said Lord Hartley. “Petersham and I had just agreed on terms when Ramsay swooped in with a truly outrageous price. You’re a lucky young woman indeed, Miss—?”

Charlotte blew an unruly strand off her cheek. “Lord Hartley, may I present Lady Anna Reston? Though how two people so horse mad don’t know each other, I can’t imagine.”

Anna gave a cry of delight. “Lord Hartley! I’m terribly sorry—I wasn’t paying attention when Charlotte first said your name.”

“Lady Anna, of course! How splendid!”

A thick crease appeared on Charlotte’s forehead. “You two are acquainted?”

“We’ve never met, but we’ve corresponded for years. Lord Hartley bought Sally’s second foal, you see, and tried to buy Archer.”

---