Lady Adalyn (The Saga Of Wolfbridge Manor Book 1), Sahara Kelly [the best e book reader .TXT] 📗

realised that good solid hard work would be an excellent way to take her mind off her worries. “I’ll go and change.”

“Wait…wear breeches…”

Her eyes opened wide. “Pardon?”

“A skirt is going to get filthy, plus get in your way. Here…come with me.” He tugged her upstairs to his quarters. “They’ll be big on you, but they are much too small for me.” He passed her a pair of soft buckskins from one of his cupboards.

She took them, looking around at the modest but comfortable room. Jeremy had made it his own, with plenty of books, a couple of branches of candles, and a large chair by the little fireplace.

She smiled at the thought of him reading there at night. “This is a nice room.”

“I like it,” he replied. “It’s smaller than the others, but it’s exactly what I need.”

“And your books…”

“From the library. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Good Lord, of course not. I’m glad they’re being used.”

“Right then. Here’s a shirt that never fit me, so if you can wear that and put something around it all to keep it together, we’ll see if there’s an old pair of boots somewhere. Then you’ll be the perfect stable boy.” He grinned.

Her spirits lifting, she nodded. “I’ll tie my hair out of the way too.”

“Excellent. I’ll be downstairs checking on the boots.”

They separated outside his door, Jeremy to the hall and the large cupboard holding an assortment of outerwear gathered over the years, and Adalyn to her room to change into the unusual clothing.

She tentatively pulled up the breeches and tucked the edges of the loose shirt into the waist. It needed a tie of some sort, so she dug around in her bureau and found a length of ribbon that served to keep everything in place. An old riding jacket that Trick had turned up for her a few weeks ago, topped the ensemble, and she held it to her for a moment, closing her eyes and praying that he was all right.

He’d hadn’t had the chance to teach her to ride yet. She felt tears, but then she lifted her chin and reminded herself that she could not control today, but she could still look forward to tomorrow and believe all would be well. She would try. It wouldn’t be perfect until Trick was back home at Wolfbridge but she would not mourn his loss, just his temporary absence.

Pushing all her troubling thoughts to the back of her mind and feeling quite odd in the breeches, she picked her way downstairs in stockinged feet with her boots in her hand. They were leather, and not suitable for stable work, without question.

Fortunately, Jeremy had triumphed. “I knew I’d seen them somewhere.” He held up a pair of ladies’ boots that had seen better days, but were sturdy and still had their laces. “And no mice living in them either.”

She had been reaching for them but her hand fell back as he spoke and she instinctively stepped away.

He chuckled. “I can assure you we have very few mice, Adalyn. Just a jest to make you smile.”

She gave him a mock serious frown. “Jeremy. Do not ever do that again.” Then she grinned and took the boots from him, sitting on a small bench to put them on. “A bit large, but I’ll manage.”

“You look very nice in my breeches,” he added, a wicked light in his eye.

“Thank you. I think.” She stood and wriggled her toes. “I’m not sure about all of this, but it will be good to know we’re doing something for Trick.” Her fears returned. “I hope Daniel and Giles are all right. Do you think they’ve arrived yet?”

He glanced at the clock. “I truly cannot tell. A lot depends on how bad the roads are at the moment. With luck, they’ve had a good solid ride along dry lanes, but we can only guess.” He held out his palm. “Come on. Let’s get to the stables and take care of our horses. For Trick…”

“For Trick,” she nodded and took his hand, allowing him to lead her out of the front door and around the house. They walked silently down the path to the stables, Adalyn aching as she realised Trick wouldn’t be there with some lighthearted jest or a welcoming smile for her.

Two of the stalls were empty—Giles and Daniel had taken those mounts—and the remaining ones housed a large gelding she recognised as the one that pulled their gig, another dark brown lad with a white blaze, and an older mare, a gentle lady who whickered softly at her as she entered the stall.

“Hallo there,” Adalyn stroked the long nose that sniffed around her shoulder.

“That’s Maggie,” said Jeremy over the wooden wall that separated the stalls. “She’s a darling. Very even-tempered, a stately lady who likes nothing better than plodding over the fields with one of our small ploughs. Rain or shine, she’s always happy for a slow walk, and she'll pull the gig now and again if she has to. Sometimes these other two are needed for the carriage.”

“What a good girl.” Adalyn patted her neck. “What shall I do, Jeremy?”

“On the shelf there you’ll find some grooming tools. There should be a curry comb and a dandy brush?”

“Um, there may well be, but since I don’t quite know what those are…” Adalyn stared at an assortment of instruments that looked foreign to her unschooled eyes.

Jeremy shook his head. “I apologise. Use the one with the brown handle. She’ll love that if you just brush her gently with it. Stay clear of her eyes and nose, and don’t press too hard…”

Adalyn did as she was bid, soon finding that such work was both soothing and easy. The smell of horses, hay and old wood, mixed with a touch of leather was unique but not unpleasant. She stroked Maggie’s coat to a shine, then gingerly took on her mane, easing the tangles free with a delicate hand.

“There, girl, now look how pretty you are, eh?” Crooning softly, she