8. Jonto #5
The hint of relief Jonto saw in Isla’s eyes was heartening. Even better, though, was the hopefulness reflected in the lady’s voice when she asked, “Do you really believe that’s possible? Do you think it can be saved?”
“I think so. Land is resilient, and I’ve found that it will eventually heal with proper management.”
“Milady?” Young Perrin stepped around the side of the boulder and stopped to stare at Jonto.
He dipped his head and pulled on his forelock.
“Beggin’ yer pardon.” He turned to face Isla.
“Sorry to bother ya, Milady, but Mister Barleycorn came runnin’ down the hill on his horse, jumped off, left the horse down there, saddle and all, and took off angry-like toward town.
When ya didn’t come down yerself, Hildy sent me up to find ya. ”
Isla smiled at the young man. “Thank you, Perrin. Please run back and tell everyone I’m fine and on my way down now.” When the boy turned away, she added, “And Perrin?”
Perrin turned back and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Aye, Milady?”
“You’ll say nothing about Admiral Jontoreaux being here, do you understand? I’ll not have you gossiping about me behind my back, and even if it’s not your intention, gossip will start.”
With a sideways glance at Jonto, Perrin nodded. “Won’t nothing come from me, Milady. Ya can trust me on that.”
He took off at a run, and after a few moments, they heard a low whicker and looked up to see Isla’s horse stretch its head around the side of the boulder.
Isla smiled and walked over to the beast. She took its muzzle in her hands.
“You’re always a curious one, aren’t you?
” She rubbed the muzzle, took the reins, and led it forward.
“This is one of the finest broodmares in my herd. She’s thrown four healthy foals over the last six years, and I decided to give her a year off to regain her strength.
Luckily, it means I have a beautiful girl to ride whenever I get a few moments to myself. ”
Jonto stepped beside her and held his fist beneath the horse’s muzzle. “I saw her when I first arrived. She’s a beauty, that’s for sure. What’s her name?”
“Mathilde’s Folly. All of the mares who come from this bloodline are named after my mother, Lady Mathilde Brighton. And all the males carry my father’s name, Lord Junius Brighton. So, for example, Folly’s dam is Mathilde’s Hennessey, named for…”
“Let me guess. Named for your mother’s favorite Cognac.”
Without looking at Jonto, Isla allowed a small smile as she continued to rub the horse’s cheeks.
“Almost. Her favorite was Rémy Martin, but that’s one of the other broodmares.
Folly’s brother, a beautiful black stallion that we use for breeding in a separate bloodline, is Junius’s Royal Flush.
I keep meticulous records of the bloodlines we breed here at Windsong Stables.
We have three stallions that cover twenty-four mares. ”
The thought of keeping track of that many animals was daunting and quite impressive. “That explains why two of the mares I bought have the name Mathilde’s followed by the name of an alcoholic beverage. But two others are named after a bird. They must be from a completely different bloodline?”
“Not all mares in the Mathilde line have alcohol in their names. My mother was so much more than what she drank.”
Jonto’s brows rose in understanding and approval. “Hence, Mathilde’s Folly.”
“Exactly. Someday, I’ll be happy to sit down and explain how lucky you are to have bought the horses that you did.
You must have outbid quite a few people because my horses are in great demand throughout the kingdom.
” She pursed her lips and then turned to face Jonto.
“I’m sorry I was so rude when I said I would have pulled them out of the auction had I known you were bidding for them.
The gray gelding that you were riding yesterday was one of my favorites.
I bottle-fed him as his mother refused to allow him to suckle. ”
Jonto held up a finger as the side of her mouth lifted slightly. “You’re sorry you said it, but you still would have pulled them. Correct?”
Instead of answering, Isla moved the mare close to the nearest rock, which she used to gracefully mount her horse. “Until Saturday, My Lord.”
With a slight bow, Jonto cheerfully said, “I hope you’ll honor me with a dance, My Lady.”
“Perhaps.”
Jonto watched as she disappeared around the boulder.
She followed and stared after her as Mathilde’s Folly regally carried her mistress over the rock-strewn ground.
The woman was truly beautiful, especially with her hair streaming down her back in golden waves.
From the little she’d gathered from conversations about town, no one had ever managed to catch the lady’s eye.
With a curious tilt of her head, Jonto wondered why that idea appealed to her but more specifically, she wondered what the true motive was for Lady Brighton to have remained single for this long.
With raised brows and a slight grin, Jonto vaulted the rock wall, gathered her reins, and continued her exploration of her newly acquired lands.