A Ravishing Redhead by Jillian Eaton Read Free Book Online Page B

into a snarl of rage and he quickened his step until he came to a halt directly in front of her and just stood there, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed to angry green slits. Waiting. 
    “Hello,” she said meekly.
    Silence.
    “I waited for you in the parlor for over an hour, you know. It is quite rude to keep someone waiting. They get ideas in their head, ideas they can’t help,” she said defensively, shading her eyes against the sun with the side of her hand so she could see him clearly.
    Silence.
    “Everything would have been fine if the deer hadn’t jumped out of the brush. It caught us both by surprise, you see, and Finnegan didn’t intend any harm.”
    Without saying a word Henry spun on his heel and started walking away towards the stables. Alarmed, Margaret scrambled to her feet and hobbled after him, calling out his name, but he ignored her. Halfway to the barn he abruptly changed directions. As he stalked past her going the other way Margaret reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.
    “Wait,” she cried. “Where are you going?”
    “To get a gun,” he bit out, wrenching free of her grasp.
    “To – to shoot me for riding Finnegan?” she asked incredulously.
    “No, to shoot the damn horse.”
    “Henry,” she gasped. “I told you it wasn’t his fault. It was mine, for riding him in the first place. I never should have –”
    “No, you should not have!” he shouted, whirling around to face her. “But you did, because you are you and you cannot help yourself. Well, I will not have it, do you hear me?”
    “You will not have what?” Margaret asked, utterly bewildered.
    “I will not have you risking your bloody life!” In two strides he had crossed the distance that separated them and taken her by the arms. He gave her two quick shakes, and she felt her head spin, but it was nothing compared to the flips her heart was doing. “When that maid came to tell me you had fallen off I thought –”
    “What maid?” Margaret interrupted.
    “What?”
    “What maid, Henry? Her name, if you would.”
    His jaw clenched. “For the love of – Angela, her name was Angela!”
    “Very good.” Margaret nodded. “You may continue.”
    “So help me God I am going to kill you,” he vowed darkly.
    “No,” said Margaret, suppressing a smile. “You’re not. Now do go on with why you think shooting your horse is a good idea. First, however, may we sit down? I am feeling quite dizzy.”  
    Henry did not hear her. Reaching out, he gently touched the side of her temple and stared at his fingers when they came away stained with blood. “You’re bleeding,” he said dumbly.
    “Yes,” she agreed. “But it is nothing to worry about.”
    “You’re bleeding,” he repeated.
    Margaret reached out and clasped his hand. “Yes, dear, you have said that already. It’s just a little scratch, I think I may have hit the side of the stirrup iron when I fell and it really is nothing to worry –”
    “HASTINGS!” Henry roared, so loud that Margaret winced. “HASTINGS, GET OUT HERE THIS INSTANT! CALL THE DOCTOR!”
    Margaret rolled her eyes. “Henry, I have to say you are over reacting just a tad. I have fallen off a horse before I do not doubt I will do it again. If you would simply calm down we –”
    “And you,” he said, cutting her off. “You – you should be laying down! In a bed!” Ignoring her protests, he scooped her up in his arms and marched her inside, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom.
    “You’ve gone mad,” she gasped as he tucked her under the covers, surrounded her head with pillows, and ordered her not to move a single muscle until the doctor arrived. Ignoring him, Margaret threw the blankets off and sat up, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. “Henry, this is ridiculous! I know you are upset that I rode Finnegan without your permission and I truly am sorry, but going on like this is not going to help anyone.”
    Head bent and arms held rigidly behind his back, Henry