Page 11 of The Marquess' Disguised Heiress
“Of course, My Lord. I will quickly run up to my room and bring you some of my clothes, which will definitely make you look like a stable hand.”
Alexander nodded, already anticipating the success of his plan.
***
“DYSON! COME BACK!” Alexander let go of the reins of his beautiful chestnut stallion, allowing him to run into the woods bordering the Russel Estate property.
He was sure Dyson would run quickly and enter the estate grounds, forcing Alexander, now dressed as a stable hand named George, to run after him, giving him a reason to enter inside and eventually perhaps reach the kitchen.
In mock play, he began to run after Dyson, who only ran further ahead, his hooves stampeding firmly on the forest ground.
However, Alexander merely walked behind him, knowing Dyson was not going anywhere when he suddenly heard the loud neighing of his prized stallion. Growing worried, he increased his pace to find Dyson, unable to see him anywhere nearby in the forest.
“DYSON!” Alexander shouted, growing worried, but Dyson neighed in response, helping Alexander locate his position.
He ran forward into the forest and thankfully saw Dyson standing just a few feet away, though he was not alone. A young woman, her back towards Alexander, stood just in front of his horse, her hand resting affectionately between his eyes as he allowed her to pet him. The view was strange for Alexander because Dyson was a very fussy stallion with French mannerisms, having been born in France. He never allowed anyone except Alexander to come close to him, but the way this young woman was petting him felt as if she knew how to handle a horse just as well as Alexander did.
He was both surprised and impressed, slowing his run to a walk.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
She turned around as he greeted her, her arresting beauty suddenly making Alexander a little too conscious about his own looks.
He knew he was not unfortunate looking; in fact, the French women had never failed to dazzle him with compliments, being a little more forward than English women in their attempts to woo.
His dark brown hair reached his shoulders, but he had tied it in a ponytail, keeping it away from his face, which only made his square jaw appear even stronger.
He was tall and muscular and certainly should not have been conscious about his looks one bit, but something about the woman before him would have made him feel this way even if dressed in his usual attire.
He was immediately attracted to her.
“Is the horse yours?” Her honeyed voice reached his ears, making her words appear musical.
As he approached, the first thing that struck him was her exquisitely blue eyes, highlighting her pale, porcelain skin, which was slightly pink due to the cold air. Her light blonde hair was tied in a loose braid, but despite that, Alexander could see how thick it was, casually reaching her waist. She was much too petite and short, almost breakable.
Alexander almost felt protective of her.
“Yes, miss,” he replied, standing right before her.
“You should be more careful before letting him walk alone into the woods. He could have been hurt or could have hurt someone.” Her tone was slightly harsh, as if she was trying to scold him, and Alexander wished to laugh at the heartfelt attempt. He could see she was not used to being stern, the role not coming to her easily.
“I am sorry,” he immediately apologized, “it is Lord Eastwood’s horse, and I was simply tending to it in the stables when the beast decided to run away. I had been looking for him all over.”
“He is all yours now.” She smiled, her entire face lighting up. The very smile tugged at Alexander’s heart as he tried to shake away the feeling of familiarity that had overtaken his senses.
It almost felt as if he knew her. He knew her very well.
“Do forgive me, but it feels as if I have seen you before. Do you work on this estate?”
“I do not remember ever seeing you,” she replied plainly, looking at him curiously, “but yes, I do work on the estate. I am Beth, and you are?”
“I am George.”
“You are a stable hand, George?”
“Yes, yes.” He nodded, still in awe of her. “At the neighbouring estate. I work for Lord Eastwood.”
“You better get back before he requires his horse.” She smiled once again, picking up her basket from the ground.
