Free Spring Blossom by Jill Metcalf

smiled brightly and Margaret
frowned.
    From his place at the head of the table,
Alastair looked at his eldest daughter and then at his friend. They
were seated to his right and left, facing each other, and he
wondered if the tension he could feel in the room would be a
breeding ground for indigestion.
    “Margaret has been telling me you have some
very good stock for sale at the moment, Alastair,” Hunter said as
he speared a slice of lamb from the platter and placed it on his
plate.
    “Indeed. We have several young stallions and
one older fellow for you to inspect,” Alastair said, accepting the
platter of meat from the younger man. “The older horse is the only
one of the lot we know to be true.”
    Margaret’s eyes snapped up to her father’s.
“You’re not speaking of Pride, Papa?”
    Alastair looked at her briefly before
attending to the matter of filling his plate. “He’s the only young
stallion we have at the moment that has been put to a mare.”
    Margaret lowered her fork to her plate and
braced both forearms on the table edge. “You can’t mean to sell
Pride?” she asked anxiously.
    “He’s to be offered for sale along with the
others,” her father returned firmly.
    Maggie bit her lip, fretting. She loved all
the horses but Pride was special. He was worth a dozen of the
others and Treemont needed the foals he would produce. Surely her
father understood that? Still, Margaret knew she could not argue
the matter here in front of others. She would discuss the future of
Pride when she and her father were alone.
    Hunter had watched the interaction between
father and daughter very closely. Clearly, Margaret was shaken by
her father’s announcement about this particular horse. He wondered
if her reaction was due to a particular attachment to the animal or
to the fact that a decision had been made without her knowledge.
Since Margaret gave the impression that she was in control of a
great many things, it would surely hurt her pride to have something
like this announced without her prior agreement. On the other hand,
Hunter could understand strong emotional ties to certain animals
and, as he stared across the table, the look he gave Margaret was
one of compassion.
    Raising her eyes from her plate, Margaret
encountered the dark eyes of their guest and immediately decided
she had somehow betrayed too much of herself and her feelings. He
seemed to be offering pity and that was something she wanted from
no one; particularly this man.
    Wanting to discharge the uncomfortable
moment, Margaret straightened her spine and smiled at her father.
“In any event, I believe we should reconsider selling any of the
horses to Mr. Maguire, Papa,” she said tightly. “He seems to
misplace them.”
    Alastair lowered his fork and frowned.
    Hunter threw back his head and laughed.
     
     
     

CHAPTER 7

    Hunter now understood Alastair’s worry over
Maggie. Obviously the woman was riding roughshod over the household
and no one was stopping her. Someone should have taken her in hand
years ago, but then, just a few short years ago Maggie had been a
sweet, laughing, fun-loving girl. She hadn’t yet become Margaret
the ice princess and war-monger.
    He mulled over what could have happened to
the Maggie he had known. She certainly hadn’t come to bring him
breakfast in bed.
    Swinging his long legs over the side of the
bed, Hunter stretched, twisted his torso, and got to his feet all
in one fluid motion.
    It was still dark outside as he padded
across the room to retrieve his breeches and a plain white shirt.
He wondered if any of the household would be about. Actually he
hoped to have a quiet moment to sip some coffee before he was
forced to face a whole herd of Downings. He had been pondering the
changes in his friend’s family for a portion of the night and now,
as he quietly left his room and traversed the wide corridor toward
the winding staircase he concluded that the girls, with the
exception of Maggie, had retained their