Page 8 of The Major's Mistake
Julian drew in his breath. He hadn’t meant to start out so badly. For some reason, rather than ride on, he guided his horse at an angle to cut off Miranda’s retreat.
“Sophia is not at home.” There was a fraction of a pause. “But of course,” she added with some asperity, “You needn’t take my word for it.” With that, she quickly ducked around the dancing stallion and disappeared through the tack room door.
He slid down from the saddle and stood for moment, not quite sure what it was he meant to do. If his aunt was away, there was no reason for him to linger, and yet his feet were strangely reluctant to move. He let his gaze wander over the place, and indeed, there didn’t appear to be anyone else stirring. Feeling rather foolish to be standing like some nodcock in the deserted stableyard, he forced himself turn back to the saddle, when all of a sudden, a high-pitched yelp caused his head to jerk around.
A small boy darted out from one of the stalls. Head bet low, he ran in zigzag steps in the direction of Julian and his horse. So intent was he on pursuing something that was slitheringthrough the dust with astonishing quickness that he didn’t spy the visitors until he was nearly upon the two of them.
“Grab it!” he cried, making a last ditch dive to catch the creature’s tail.
The stallion shied violently. It took a moment for the marquess to bring the skittish animal under control, and by that time, the l corn snake had raced between his boots and was lost to sight among the tall grasses at the edge of the paddock.
The boy gave up the chase and fixed Julian with a baleful look that made clear his disappointment, both with his own efforts and those of the gentleman before him. “If you had been quicker, you might have got it,” he said rather pointedly, brushing at a large streak of dirt down the middle of his jacket. “It went right by your feet.”
A pronounced sigh followed. “I have always wanted just such a colorful snake, but I suppose I shall have to ask Angus to catch one for me.”
Julian repressed his amusement at being scolded by a child barely out of leading strings. “My sincere apologies, lad, but had I let go of the reins, my horse might have bolted and caused you some harm.
The loss of the snake appeared quickly forgiven as the boy stared up with undisguised admiration at the magnificent bay towering above him. “What a real top o’ the trees horse—” The words cut off as a guilty expression stole over his face. “Oh! Mama say I’m not to repeat certain expressions I hear in the stable.”
Julian’s lips twitched again. “I don’t think she need be informed of this little slip, especially since he is, as you say, truly top o’ the trees. He served me well in the Peninsula.”
The little boy’s eyes widened even more. “You were in the Army? Oh, how grand! Jem is forever telling me about all thebattles, and what heroes our men are. Were you a general like Wellesley?”
The marquess couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m afraid not. Just a lowly major, lad.”
He mulled that over for a moment before deciding he was still suitably impressed. “I suppose a major is not too shabby,” he allowed.
“I shall try to measure up to such high praise,” murmured Julian dryly.
The lad’s gaze was still riveted on the Marquess’s mount. “I’ve never seen such a big stallion. May I pet him?”
“Just a moment.” Julian took careful hold of his mount’s bridle. “He can be skittish with strangers,” he explained. “Now you may touch him, if you like.”
The little boy’s fingers brushed against the horse’s nose and he gave a delighted giggle as the tongue flicked out and left them wet and sticky. After wiping them on the front of his jacket, he ventured to reach up and scratch behind the ears.
To the marquess’s surprise, the high-strung animal tolerated the attention with an uncharacteristic docility. As the boy spoke in low tones to the stallion, Julian regarded him with some curiosity, wondering just how he belonged here. His clothing was simple but of good quality and cut. It seemed most unlikely he was the child of a mere washerwoman or hired?—
His thoughts were interrupted by yet another question. “What’s his name, Major? And may I have a ride on him?”
“His name is Zeus. As to the ride, I suppose it would do no harm to take you up for a short time.”
“Oh, thank you.” The boy gave a wide grin as he continued to stroke the velvety tip of the stallion’s nose. “That’s a very fine name. He is big and powerful, just like Zeus in the stories.”
”You know the Greek myths?”
He nodded. “My mama reads them to me at night. And I am learning about all the English Kings from Miss MacKenzie, and my letters and sums as well. I can even write my name,” he added proudly. Bending over, he traced some large letters in the dirt with his finger. “See?”
“Justin,” read the Marquess. “That’s a fine name, too. He held out his hand. “I’m Sterling.”
Justin shook it gravely. “That’s a funny name. Even funnier than Angus.”
“That is not my Christian name. It’s my—well, it’s my title.”
“I like Major better.” Justin’s eyes went from the toes of the Marquess’s polished Hessians to the immaculate riding coat and silk cravat to the curly brimmed beaver hat. “Are you a real gentleman, then?”
“Well, yes, I suppose I am.”
Oh, I’ve never met a real gentleman before.” The boy paused for a moment. “What kind of gentleman?”
