Augusta finished grooming the stallion, more than a little amazed that the powerful animal stood so docilely while she worked. The repetitive motions soothed a little of her anger and gave her a chance to catch her breath, away from the too-keen eyes of Lord Bruxton. Finally, though, the work was done and it was time to face him again.
"Let us get you inside, my lord." She hung the curry comb on its peg and dusted off her hands. "We may yet be able to dine before the sun sets." By her reckoning, sunset was perhaps an hour away, so it would be close. Could she really make an injured man ride to a strange village after dark? Ballocks! He couldn't stay here.
She helped him inside and settled him at the table in the kitchen before running back outside to fetch her basket and the few provisions she'd bought in town. Fortunately she'd purchased a big wedge of cheese and Margaret had left several loaves of fresh bread along with the chicken stew simmering on the stove.
Augusta quickly put the kettle on for tea, though she was sure her uninvited guest would have preferred something stronger. Wine was a luxury they couldn't afford, though she suspected Thomas had a small supply of ale stashed away somewhere. No matter. Let Lord Bruxton see exactly what his predecessor and solicitor had reduced them to.
He watched her in silence as she ladled the stew into bowls and set them on the table along with a loaf of brown bread, the wedge of cheese and a jar of Margaret's blackberry jam. Finally, she filled the teapot and set it down on the table to steep, then took her place across from him.
"Forgive me for not standing," he said somewhat ruefully, breaking the awkward silence. "My mother would be appalled at my lack of manners."
Despite her mood, Augusta felt her lips twitch at his dry humor. She couldn't help teasing back. "Well, then, we shan't tell her, shall we?"
"That would be most appreciated." He inclined his head formally, but his bright blue eyes danced. Up close she could see that he was really quite handsome, in a rugged sort of way. His hair was a burnished shade of gold and had fallen out of its queue to wave softly to his shoulders. Long, dark lashes that would have looked effeminate on someone less robust framed eyes the shade of a summer sky. Wealthy, titled and handsome. Life really wasn't at all fair.
Even less fair was the way he made her stomach flutter when he smiled - and she didn't even want to think about the reaction his presence was causing in other parts of her anatomy.
"So, Miss MacLeish, tell me about your family."
She paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth and raised one eyebrow. "Shouldn't you already know about them? You are our guardian, after all."
He nodded. "I have a list of your names and ages. Nothing more. Tell me about them. To start with, why do all of you have names beginning with the letter A?"
She grimaced. "My father was Angus and his father was Adam. With each child, my father was so sure he would have a son that he only allowed for one name to be chosen - a male name beginning with the letter A. Hence, I was to be Augustus. There was an Andrew, but he died along with my mother during childbirth."
"I'm sorry. When father married again, he insisted on continuing his lunacy. So Alexander became Alexandra, Anthony Antonia and Albert Alberta. Finally, came Arthur. We're all glad he was a boy because I don't know how father could have twisted that into a girl's name."
"Yes, that might have been difficult," he agreed with a chuckle. "And your father has been gone for three years, according to the records I found?"
"Yes, he and Louise were killed in a carriage accident."
"I'm sorry," he repeated, but there was a genuine sympathy in his tone that was somehow warming. "But how did you come to be my cousin's wards in the first place?"
"He is - was - a distant connection of my stepmother and therefore of all the younger children. Louise was very proud of her highborn connections and my father succumbed to her wishes and named the earl as the children's guardian. I was supposed to be securely married off, you see and he didn't think to make separate arrangements."
"And what happened with that?"
Augusta shrugged. "Nothing terribly unusual. The young man inherited some money, went to London and found someone who suited him better - and who didn't come with four children to be cared for."
"Shall I call him out for you?" He said it with a totally serious expression, but there was a twinkle in those bright blue eyes that was pure mischief.
Augusta couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing. "Oh, thank you," she said, a moment later, wiping her eyes with her napkin. "That's the first time I've laughed in two days."
"You're missing your brother and sisters?"
The wistful note in his voice made her tip her head and ask, "Do you have any siblings?"
"I did," he said. "A sister, but she died when we were very young. I can barely remember her."
"I'm sorry." She just restrained herself from reaching out and touching his hand. "I can hardly recall what it was like to be an only child. It seems I've spent all my life chasing after them. Without them though, the castle seems so...empty."
"You never resented them? I know sometimes it's difficult to accept a stepmother and her children." He sounded like he actually cared, which was stunning. Peers of the realm did not ask how a penniless young woman felt about her family. Perhaps his knock to the head had rattled his brains more than she'd thought.
But she answered anyway. It was nice to have another adult to sit and talk to over dinner. "Not a bit. My father was something of a recluse, so we didn't spend a lot of time visiting with other families in the neighborhood, though my stepmother helped repair that, at least a little bit. Without the children, I'd have been very lonely indeed." She poured the tea, ascertained that he took his black and handed him the cup.