Free The Soldier by Grace Burrowes

less than an inch from her skin.
    “It’s level in relation to the ground,” she decided. “Which means it slopes away from the building as the land does, which is what you want it to do.”
    “It does,” the earl said, frowning. She was tall for a female, but the top of her head would still fit nicely under his chin were she to turn around and wrap her arms around his waist.
    “It will be very handsome when you have it repaired.” She did turn then but stepped away, as well, flashing that warmhearted smile at him. “Herodotus will be pleased you take the appearance of his quarters so seriously.”
    The earl found himself smiling back, if for no other reason than the slight throbbing in his groin. “You’ll introduce me to this fine specimen?”
    “Come along.” She gestured with a gloved hand, then seemed to notice for the first time her hand wasn’t bare. “My lord, the next time a woman comes calling wearing work gloves, will you bring her attention to the matter before she embarrasses herself?”
    Except Miss Farnum wasn’t embarrassed; she was amused as she pulled off the gloves and preceded him into the stables.
    “This fine gentleman is my partner, Herodotus. Herodotus, may I make known to you the Earl of Rosecroft?” Long fuzzy ears, long yellow teeth, long whiskers, and a long, slow perusal met the earl’s gaze.
    “Herodotus, my pleasure.”
    “You aren’t going to laugh at my mule? He’s a very good mule, a gift from the old earl when I moved to the cottage.”
    St. Just reached out a hand toward the animal. “Mules are hardier than horses, footwise, but they also survive on the worst rations and can make do with far less water. They are canny about danger and brave when it comes to a fight. Pound for pound, most are stronger than horses and have greater endurance, though most are not quite as fleet. I am pleased to make Herodotus’s acquaintance. He will give my juvenile miscreants someone to look up to.”
    “These are your stock?” Miss Farnum asked, moving to stand by Wulf’s stall. The gelding roused himself from his doze along the back wall and came to investigate. She waited patiently for the initial sniffing-over to be completed then found a spot under the horse’s chin that wanted scratching. “Oh, you are a love, aren’t you? And so handsome, and such eyes you have. Won’t you tell me your name?”
    The horse was making the kind of faces the earl might have made were Miss Farnum to be running her hands over him with such enthusiasm.
    “That shameless tramp is Beowulf,” the earl informed her. “His cohorts in crime are Ethelred, whom you’ve met, and Caesar, who bestirred himself to take me to services today. Which reminds me, why weren’t you there this morning?”
    She moved to Red’s stall and obliged the horse with an ear-scratching in silence. Her companion waited, content to enjoy the sight of his horses flirting with her. She fit in here, somehow, fit in in a way the earl wasn’t sure he himself did.
    “I do not attend. I never have, down here. In Scotland, it was a different matter, of course. I am on good terms with Mr. Bothwell, as he is a very amiable gentleman, but I never got in the habit, even when my aunt was alive.”
    The earl came to stand beside her but faced out, hooking his elbows on the top of Red’s open half door. “You mean you are not welcome?”
    “I don’t know, and it hasn’t been important to find out. I am content the good folk hereabouts will buy my breads and pies. Asking them to sit in church with me could jeopardize my livelihood.”
    “Why should they hold you in such low esteem? You cannot help your familial circumstances any more than I can help mine.”
    “My aunt might have been tolerated for the sake of the old earl and his countess, but her dealings with Helmsley were not kept private, so I am tarred with the same brush. You should know this before you put Winnie in my care even temporarily.”
    He settled his hand on