Duke Looks Like a Groomsman - Valerie Bowman Page 0,39

be my pleasure to help you, Lady Mary.”

Mary smiled and wandered over to the other side of the blacksmith’s area to get a closer look at the work he was doing.

“Let me clean up and I’ll be right back.” Rhys tossed a towel over his shoulder. As he passed Julianna he paused. “Here to attempt to make me quit again, are you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She stuck her nose in the air.

“Oh, so you don’t intend to give me hell at every turn today?” he asked.

She did her best not to look at his glistening chest. “I expect you to give my sister proper riding lessons, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“And I suppose you’ll be happy to provide me with constant corrections should my lessons not be to your liking?”

“If I must,” she said with a dramatic sigh, before giving him a smug smile.

Rhys arched a brow at her and strode away toward the staircase at the far end of the stables.

Julianna joined her sister and she and Mary spent several minutes watching the blacksmith shoe the horse. Another one of the groomsmen came over to assist after Rhys left and the blacksmith used his tongs to dunk the shoe Rhys had hammered into a bucket of water to cool it before the groomsman helped to attach it to the horse’s hoof with nails.

“It doesn’t hurt the poor thing, does it, Anna?” Mary asked wincing.

“Not at all, dear,” Julianna replied. “They don’t feel a thing.”

Mary expelled her breath. The poor young woman had probably been inside stables more during this house party than she’d ever been in her life. She didn’t know the first thing about horses.

“What is all of that?” Mary asked next, turning toward the huge tack wall that covered one entire side of the building.

“That’s the tack,” Julianna replied, before spending the next several minutes pointing out items such as saddle blankets, pads, girths and cinches, martingales, stirrups, bridles, and reins.

“What’s a martingale?” Mary asked just as Rhys came striding up behind them.

“It’s a strap that’s applied from the girth to the head piece,” Rhys answered. “It’s part of the harness that assists in the horse’s head carriage.”

Julianna turned at the sound of his voice. His hair was wet and slicked back and he was wearing new clothing. At least his white shirt was on and buttoned, but his skin-tight breeches left little to the imagination. He’d clearly just taken some sort of bath. No doubt he’d poured the wash bowl over his head and the water had sluiced down his muscled chest to— No. That line of thinking was not helpful. She needed to concentrate on why she was here. For Mary’s riding lessons.

Of course, Julianna would never have asked Rhys to teach Mary if she thought he would be an unsuitable teacher for her sister. She’d seen him around horses enough during their courtship and since he’d been pretending to be a groomsman to know that he was quite knowledgeable. He was arrogant, of course, but something told her that he took Mary’s concerns seriously. Julianna was confident that he would make this as painless as possible for her sister.

Rhys turned his full attention to Mary. He spoke to her in a calm, reassuring voice and he looked straight into her eyes. “Before I went upstairs, I asked Henry to saddle Whisper. She’s the calmest horse in Lord Clayton’s stables. I think you’ll like her very much.”

Mary only nodded, her eyes wide as tea saucers. “She certainly sounds as if she’s the correct horse if one is judging on name alone.”

Rhys laughed. “Precisely, my lady. Now, come with me.”

Ignoring Julianna again, Rhys offered Mary his arm and led her out into the barnyard where Henry and Whisper were already standing.

Whisper was a beautiful sorrel mare, slight of stature, clearly with a tame and serene disposition. The horse stood quietly eating an apple out of Henry’s hand.

“She doesn’t look so frightening,” Mary whispered, her throat working as she swallowed.

Julianna’s heart ached for her sister. “Be brave,” she called softly as Rhys escorted Mary over to meet the horse.

“First, you must be properly introduced,” Rhys said. “Lady Mary, this is Whisper. Miss Whisper, this is Lady Mary.”

The horse merely blinked her big doleful dark eyes at Mary.

“Nice to meet you.” Mary’s voice shook slightly as she performed a slight curtsy.

“Would you like to touch her?” Rhys offered Mary next.

Tears sprang to Julianna’s eyes as she watched Mary reach out and softly pat Whisper on