The Fall of Lord Drayson (Tanglewood Book 1)
fresh hay and water were fed to the animals. But that was the extent of it. The only exercise the animals received was a jaunt into town now and then, pulling the cart for her mother.
    Lucy glanced down at her hands, not knowing how to explain or even correct such negligence.
    The truth is always best, her father’s voice came to mind. But when the truth was bookended in lies, was it still best? Or did it not matter at that point?
    “I . . .” Her voice sounded small and pathetic, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “I am afraid of horses, Collins.”
    He did not respond right away, but a slight smile touched his lips as he carefully wrapped the lead rope around his hand, keeping Athena securely at his side—another perplexing kindness. “You, who has dug up worms, gutted your own fish, and once captured a toad to keep as a pet, are afraid of horses? Please explain. I am extremely intrigued.”
    Is the answer not obvious? she thought. All one had to do was compare the differences between a toad and a horse to understand. “A horse is vastly larger than a toad,” she said finally, hoping he would leave it at that.
    Lord Drayson’s lips twitched ever so slightly. “Yes, but a toad is also slimy and unpredictable. There is no trust or loyalty to be earned from a friendship with an amphibian. A horse, on the other hand, can offer wisdom and protection and even”—he smiled—“cheerful weather.”
    “I am not so certain about that,” said Lucy, refusing to let him tease her so. “I trusted my toad and he trusted me.”
    “He shouldn’t have,” said the earl. “Was it not you who buried the poor creature alive with a toad-eating reptile?”
    Apparently some stories should be left untold, thought Lucy crossly. “I can see your memory is quite sharp since your accident.”
    His eyes twinkled at her through the dimness in the stables. “Are you wishing another accident to befall me, Miss Beresford, so as to swipe my more recent memories?”
    “No, Collins. But I do see that these animals require more care than I have been giving them. Perhaps I could . . .” Her voice trailed off. Would little Tommy be willing to exercise the horses if she increased her payment by a loaf of bread as well? Could Tommy even ride? He would look so small sitting atop Zeus. And what if he took a fall? She could never live with herself if something happened to a mere child because she, an adult, lacked the courage to ride.
    “Have you never ridden?” said Lord Drayson.
    Lucy really ought to chastise him for his impertinence and enforce at least a modicum of propriety, but she found that she wanted him to understand her reasons.
    “My father attempted to teach me to ride when I was young, but I never could quite get the hang of it. I took a spill and broke my arm. My mother lost a close friend to a riding accident and refused to let me back on an animal, much to my relief. I had never been more afraid in my life than sitting atop that horse.”
    “What about driving?”
    Lucy sighed. “I prefer to let my mother handle the ribbons.”
    He fiddled with the lead rope again, unwinding it from his fingers. “What if the day comes that your mother can no longer do the driving?”
    Lucy had thought about that before and immediately dismissed it because she had preferred not to think on it further. “As I told you before, I am very good at walking.”
    “Lucy . . .” he said.
    Her eyes snapped to his in a stern look of reproof. Earl or servant, she had not given him leave to call her by her Christian name, nor did she appreciate being made to feel like a silly coward. It was too much.
    “Forgive me, Miss Beresford,” he said, having the good sense to appear remorseful.
    Too bad for him that Lucy was not in a forgiving mood. “How many times do you plan on asking my forgiveness, Collins? I should think more than once a day is too much.” Lucy picked up her skirts and whisked away, leaving him to exercise the horses

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