Page 22 of In Search of a Husband
“Aisling will do. She’s a gentle mare,” he said mostly to himself, storming through the dark stable. Once, it must have been a beautiful space, but it was damp and dirty, and the few windows allowing in light were in need of cleaning.
Kate hurried along with her bags, peeking into each stall to find a horse with a fresh bucket of water and hay.
Very well, it was only the building which needed repair.
“Have something ye’re wishin’ to say?” he asked, righting the saddle.
Plenty, but wasn’t that the problem? No, she didn’t wish to speak any longer to this man, no matter how delicious the eggs were. He was a self-centered arse like the rest of them.
Instead, she mounted the horse without his help. She bent down and whispered in the beast’s ear, then waved for her bag. Let him convey her trunk back.
“The carriage’s axle is broken. Otherwise…”
It didn’t matter. Nothing much did right now. She was on her own, and she didn’t wish for this stranger to see how broken she truly was. Kate must rely on herself now. And if he didn’t wish to help, she wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction of seeing her fail.
“Please store my trunk safely. I will bring this bag for now.” She settled into the saddle and balanced the bag by her hand and the rein.
He eyed her, the cigar still hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Maybe it’s best to walk.”
“I can ride,” she shot back.
“Never said ye couldna.”
“Listen, Mr. MacInnes. You hired me to be the governess. I was promised conveyance from the village to the castle. This wasn’t what I had in mind, but I will manage. You will discover I can manage a great deal.”
He patted the horse’s bum, and the horse shot off through the stable.
The insufferable oaf.
Yes, she could manage. She gripped the rein tighter. And if she couldn’t, she’d be loath to admit as much to him.
No fear of falling in love in Scotland. She hadn’t escaped London to find love. She was here for her independence, and that meant, above all else, tolerating that man.
And his amazing cooking.
And the way she didn’t need him. Kate had been burned once. She was turning a new leaf, one where she loved herself most of all. She didn’t need Mr. MacInnes or his faulty promises. She didn’t need love. It wasn’t for her anyhow.
Oh, not Ares or Asclepidus.Apollo!
Mr. MacInnes was no Apollo.
Kate rode the mare through the small village perched on the side of a generous swooping hill that melted into a dark-green glen. Beyond, the forest cover grew thick, and she rode for some time before the forest faded to fields and stone walls, and then, ahead in a beautiful clearing was Dunsmuir Castle. When she dismounted and discovered no one to help with the horse, she was seething. She led Aisling into the stable and settled the tame animal before bracing herself for what awaited inside.
She glanced upward at the stone fortress. It felt cold and not in the slightest as romantic as she had imagined. It towered up toward the moody Scottish sky, swirling with gray. The wind swept through the large oak tree at the front of the home, and what would have been a garden was a gnarled tangle of weeds and brown, decaying flowers.
With a steadying breath, she knocked on the door, and then pushed it open.
“Hello?” she called out.
She stepped onto the large, worn rug tossed over the large flagstones of the entryway. No wonder Mr. MacInnes was a giant.
This castle was…
Well, not entirely inviting. It was dark, cool, and drafty.
“Hello?” she called again.
“Ahhh, we’re under attack!” A little girl poked her head out from behind a tapestry covering a doorway.
