Captain Durant's Countess - By Maggie Robinson Page 0,92
and pulled out a lump of sugar.
“Now you’ve started something. You should have brought an entire cone if you don’t want to cause a riot.”
“I will the next time.”
Her words were heartening. Reyn very much hoped she’d be back again and again.
Sugar gone, they toured the rest of the stable, Maris lingering over each of the fillies with a word or a gentle pat. She had a natural horsewoman’s way with the animals and didn’t blink when one of the girls excreted a very unladylike mess during her inspection.
They crossed a few grassy steps to the second stable housing the gentlemen’s quarters and Reyn’s office. One day, the empty stalls would be filled, but only two were occupied at present. Brutus put on a show while Phantom did the equine version of rolling his eyes.
“He is a beauty, isn’t he?” Maris said, stepping back to admire the bay in the filtered sunlight.
Jack had done an admirable job scrubbing the windows, too. Reyn would have to give the boy something extra in his pay packet.
“He certainly thinks he is. Let’s hope his offspring make him worth the price I paid.”
Maris pointed to the curtained interior window at the end of the stalls. “Is that your office?”
Reyn nodded. He hadn’t planned on showing her the room. His organizational methods left a good deal to be desired. But he wasn’t quick enough to stop her from opening the door and peering inside.
It was the one place that wasn’t gleaming. Tradesmen’s bills were crumpled in a wooden trug, the pasteboard diaries on each horse strewn across the battered desk.
Maris picked one up in her black-gloved hand. Mother of God.
He watched her face as she turned the pages.
“Is this in some sort of code to confuse your competitors?”
She had given him the perfect out, but Reyn knew he couldn’t lie to her. Wouldn’t. He was a man of honor, despite his recent foray into various sins.
A possible marriage to Maris had been a beautiful, impossible dream while it lasted. It was time for him to wake up. Confess. What had he been thinking of to offer her a life with a man such as he? His proposal had been unplanned, reckless as usual. She was far above him and always would be no matter how well he established himself in his business.
“No, Maris, though I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.” He took a deep breath, wondering how he would sound as he admitted his greatest fault. “I cannot read well. I write worse. All the schoolmasters’ beatings in the world did not help. You see the result in your hands.”
Her brown eyes never left his. Give her credit for more bravery than he was feeling at the moment.
Even his voice cracked a little as it had in his youth. Reyn gave her a twisted smile. “I’ve managed to get by so far on my good looks and charm, but you have found me out at last. I can barely understand my own notations some days. Now you see how hopeless it was for your husband to hire me to catalog the contents of Kelby Hall.”
“He didn’t hire you for that,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“How could I? I thought it enough to tell you I’m no scholar. No one knows my limitations, not even Ginny. She thinks I’m just lazy. Sometimes when I concentrate I can make out the gist of what I’m reading. I’ve got a good memory, thank God. If I hear something, it gets filed away. But as a lad, I didn’t sit still long enough to listen to much of anything.”
Reyn had trouble standing still, waiting for Maris to give her excuses and leave before partaking of Ginny’s eagerly planned supper. He heard the pulse sing in his ears, felt his heart race, and fought against the urge to flee from his office. From his life. He had been a fool to think he could cobble together some kind of order to his existence. Find a measure of happiness. He wasn’t worthy. His tenuous familial link to the ton was far overshadowed by his bad blood.
What if the child took after him, had his deficiencies? He had sentenced Maris with a problem that could not be solved. Reyn should never, ever have agreed to the absurd proposition, but it was much too late for regret.
She held the open ledger, her trembling hand revealing the impact of his words. He wished he could think of something