Page 30 of My Queendom for a Horse

“I didn’t realize how close it was to Russia,” he says. “I guess that’s why you speak Russian.”

I shrug. “A lot of people around here speak Russian. Actually, most people in Latvia know three languages. It’s just that not many of them know English.”

Sean smiles. “I’m glad you do.”

For years, I hoped that the next time I saw him, Sean would be fat, bald, and not nearly as good-looking as I remembered. Isn’t karma supposed to make that happen when someone leaves you, if you’re a good person? I’m not sure whether it doesn’t actually work that way, or whether I’m not a very good person for even wanting it to.

But it didn’t happen here. That’s for sure.

As we climb into his shiny BMW, I steal some glances at him. His blonde hair’s as thick and wavy as ever. His cobalt blue eyes practically shine from his aristocratic face. His jacket’s open, so I can see that he still has the faint line in his polo shirt between his pec muscles that shows he’s fit, but not overly muscular. Bodybuilding is gauche if you’re part of the British aristocracy, after all.

“Um, is your new trainer a little slow?” Sean’s staring rather pointedly behind me.

At Aleksandr. He’s just standing, staring at the door with a perplexed look on his face.

Because a hundred years ago, cars looked nothing like this. They probably more closely resembled a buggy. “Ah, hang on.” I open my door and stand halfway up, hissing in Russian. “Grab the handle and get in. He thinks you’re an idiot.”

Aleks turns toward me slowly, clearly glaring. “Is it safe?” At least he’s remembering to answer in Russian.

“Totally safe,” I say. “There’s a belt you can clip in place that will keep you even safer. Just follow my lead when you get inside.”

He blinks, but he listens.

I move more slowly than I ever have at locating, and then at clipping, my seatbelt. Then I turn back toward him.

“Why is he coming again?” Sean asks.

“He was hungry,” I say. “And he didn’t want to stay at the house with my dad, who doesn’t speak much Russian.”

Sean frowns. “But I haven’t seen you in years, and—”

“Make him shut up,” Aleksandr says. “Or I will.”

I turn around in my seat and pin him with my best stare. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

He shrugs. “I’ll kill him.”

At first, I think he’s kidding. Then I wish he was. “Are you—are you serious right now?”

“Then you wouldn’t have to pay him back,” he says. “It’s a win for both of us.”

“First of all, it does not work that way. I owe his company. But second, what do you stand to gain?” I ask.

“He annoys me.”

“There will be no killing,” I say. “I don’t know what kind of person you were a hundred years ago, but while you’re with me, you’re the kind of person who never kills anyone.” I glare at him for good measure. “Got it?”

His brow furrows. “So I’m weak.”

We’ll have to talk more about this later. “Just drive,” I say in English. “He’s as crazy as the horse I hired him to train, so hopefully that’s a perfect fit.”

Aleksandr huffs from the back seat, and I want to remind him that he’s not supposed to be able to understand me, but I’m too worried that Sean will figure it out.

“Why did you buy that horse?” Sean asks. “You’d won the race. You could have paid that first payment yourself.”

I’ve been dreading this question, so I should have known he’d lead with it. “I can’t stand animals being abused, and the way Rickets was treating that stallion didn’t sit right with me.”

“You were willing to lose the farm over it?” Sean’s voice is measured, almost nervous.

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