A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,21

magician.”

“Indeed,” Katherine said as Willa winked at her to let her know that all was well with Morgan.

“Or a Scottish witch?” Christian teased, his low voice holding no traces of his earlier detachment. “I really don’t care if she is one. What she’s done for Morgan is beyond incredible. He appears to be back to his normal self.”

With his stoic face ready to crumble, Wheatley appeared at the door. “Your Grace?”

“Yes, Wheatley?” Christian didn’t turn from the sight of Willa and his valet enjoying each other’s company.

“Your assistance is required in the entry. A racehorse by the name of Poison Blossom has been delivered. Apparently, it was Lord Meri’s, and he wanted you to have it.”

“Bloody hell,” Christian muttered under his breath, then completely focused his attention on the butler. “Send it around to the stables.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, sir.” Clearly uneasy, the butler continued, “It is in the entry and refuses to move.”

“My lady, if you’ll excuse me?” Christian was already halfway across the study. “Miss Ferguson?” he called out to Willa. “Perchance, do you have any miracle medicines for charming a horse?”

“Nay, but I have an evil eye when needed,” Willa offered without a hint of boastfulness.

“Bring it, if you please,” the duke called out as he turned the corner into the hall.

Without a doubt, the man made her head spin. He was a master of flipping back and forth from an unsociable beast who claimed not to care about family to a charming, reserved gentleman.

Katherine thought herself quite adept at hiding the truth, but the duke took such skill to an entirely different level.

She and Willa followed Morgan to the entry hall. Taller than most other men, Christian stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the scene before him.

Pure pandemonium had erupted around them. Groomsmen, liveried footmen, and several of the scullery maids were arguing over how best to remove Poison Blossom from the premises. Kat and Willa found a place against a curved wall out of the way.

The horse stood in the middle of the marble entry, refusing to budge as two men from the stables tried to pull her around and lead her outside. By the determined swishing of her black tail and all four feet planted, she was having none of it.

Christian didn’t pay any mind to the chaos around him. All his attention was devoted to the horse.

Poison Blossom’s ears flickered forward and back in increasing agitation.

“Enough,” Christian called out. The command in his voice brought everyone to attention. Immediate quiet infiltrated the room.

An angry Poison Blossom turned her attention to Christian. Her tail swooshed in irritation as the white of her eyes became visible.

“Everyone back away from her.” Christian took a step forward. Without objection, every single person moved away from the horse except for the groomsman who held her lead. “John, what do we have here?”

“Your Grace, this man brought Lord Meriwether’s racehorse all the way from Cumberland.”

A man in work clothing stepped forward, nervously clutching his hat. He dipped his head in a respectable but abbreviated bow. Even he didn’t want to lose sight of Poison Blossom when she was in such a nasty mood. “Your Grace, I’m Miff Mitchell from the White River Stables. That’s where she’s been staying. I was told to bring the horse here.”

Christian slowly swung his gaze to Mr. Mitchell. “What can you tell me about Poison Blossom?”

At the sound of her name, the horse whinnied and stared straight at Christian.

Everyone else, including Katherine, had stayed in their positions, quiet as church mice. It was as if they all were spellbound by the sight of the duke facing off against the noticeably pregnant and vexed black beauty.

“Sir, she is the finest and most successful racehorse your brother—”

“Half brother,” Christian corrected.

Mr. Mitchell nodded. “That your half brother owned. A bit high-strung, but she has a heart that won’t quit when she’s in a race. She’s foaling, and there’s high speculation that her offspring will follow both her and its sire, Black Thunder, in their racing success.” The man laughed. “Two of the best racehorses in the country.”

Katherine studied the horse. It was apparent she’d been well taken care of. Her black coat glistened in the light, and her legs had been wrapped to avoid injury. She was full of energy. And big.

Very big.

The entry had shrunk in its opulence and size with the horse and Christian measuring each other.

“Thank you, Mr. Mitchell.” With his gaze glued to the horse, Christian continued his survey. “I have