Claire Delacroix by The Bride Quest Series 3-Book Bundle Page B

egg and Luc had already noted that his single brow, which ran from temple to temple, worked vigorously when he was concerned.
    Denis’ great gift was his ability with horses. In but a day, Luc had noted that Tullymullagh’s ostler had been born to his labor. Denis murmured in the ears of the horses and they adored him, each and every one, following his bidding when they would permit no other near them.
    But Denis’ skill with people was markedly less. In this moment, he stood sleepily, his linen sleeves shoved past his elbow, his boots already mired, his brow wrinkling busily as the lady heaped demands upon him.
    Luc could only sympathize with his plight. There could be naught worse than denying a shrewish noblewoman what she expected as her due, especially so early in the morn.
    “Truly!” the lady exclaimed. “How can you expect me to believe that there is not a single empty stall at Tullymullagh? Tell the truth instead! Tell me that this new overlord refuses to receive his closest neighbors.” She jabbed a finger at the ostler’s chest, her voice rising another increment. “Is that not the way of it?”
    Raphael snorted and shuddered as though he could not bear the high pitch of her voice.
    Denis, meanwhile, bowed low. “Nay, nay, ’tis not that at all, Lady Ismay.” He cleared his throat slowly, as though he needed time to seek an explanation. His words fell heavily. “I am fully certain that Gavin Fitzgerald would be delighted to host you, but he has many guests already.”
    “Is that so? I cannot imagine that any of them come fromas fine a lineage as we.” The lady tossed her veil and Luc glanced dubiously over her steeds.
    If she truly had coin to her name, she did not spare it on either garb, attendants, or steeds. The mare lurking behind the lady was decidedly grizzled.
    Denis straightened and wrung his hands when he saw how little effect his argument was making upon the noblewoman. “Some of King Henry’s party have remained and the new lord’s men, as well.”
    Lady Ismay snorted disdain. “Say naught to me of that English king! His minions are welcomed while loyal neighbors like ourselves are not? What manner of barbarian is this man?”
    The amiable ostler fairly squirmed, his hands working together as he fought to appease the lady. “ ’Tis the hour, Lady Ismay. Much of the keep remains asleep, including Gavin Fitzgerald himself—”
    “
Disturb
him immediately!” The lady’s anger rang through the stables. She pointed demandingly to the keep and drew herself taller, the gesture doing little good for her profile. “Hasten your sorry hide to him this very moment and
demand
that we be properly received!”
    Denis looked sorely dismayed by the prospect and Luc could not blame him. Gavin was not a man who took well to interruption, particularly early in the morn, and no doubt Denis had already tasted the bite of Tullymullagh’s new lord. On the other hand, this Lady Ismay would stop at naught to see her own way fulfilled.
    Had it not been for the ostler’s predicament, Luc would have been content to let this noblewoman stew in her own dissatisfaction.
    But Denis was a kindly man undeserving of such nonsense.
    Luc cleared his throat and stepped out of the stall. “Goodmorning to you,” he said and the arguing pair turned as one to confront him. Relief washed over Denis’ visage while the lady merely looked more grim.
    “Ostlers from every side and nary a hand to take a steed,” she snapped. “All of Christendom has gone straight to hell in this year.” Denis looked shocked, but Luc waved off any protest he might have made.
    “How many steeds have you?” Luc asked mildly.
    “Three,” the lady supplied, her tone waspish. Even the black mare whose reins Lady Ismay held tightly appeared embarrassed to be seen with her mistress. The silver-snouted beast stepped back, standing as far away as she could, the reins stretched taut. She had never been a fine beast, Luc could see now, for