Dangerous Joy by Jo Beverley Read Free Book Online

autumn."
    "Pre-season. You'd get better prices in Melton later."
    She put down her knife and fork with the food reduced to tiny portions, but still on the plate. "There are plenty of gentlemen who know the quality of Foy horses and will buy on the name alone. They don't need to be tempted by the tricks of professional riders paid to make a poor horse look good over the sticks."
    Miles put down his cup with care, lest he smash it. "I ride my own horses, Miss Monahan, or lend them to friends, and there is no trickery involved." Then he rose from the table before he lost his temper. "Speaking of horses, I must check on Argonaut. If he's damaged, there'll be hell to pay."
    Annie looked up. "Have you injured a horse, Mr. Cavanagh? That is very sad. You must have Mick Flaherty see to it. He's a rare hand with anything equine."
    "Thank you, Miss Monahan. He already has the handling of it."
    "Oh, then it will be all right." She rose from her chair, sprinkled with cats, and wandered away. One small black cat stayed behind, however, staring at Miles as if fascinated.
    Felicity rose, too, abandoning the pretense of decorous young lady. "I'm truly sorry about your horse, Mr. Cavanagh, but you shouldn't have tried to use him as defense."
    "I had no way of knowing the attack wasn't murderous. I care for my horses, but not at the expense of my life."
    She walked, brisk and fiery, toward the door, her demure gown transformed somehow into a provocative garment that swirled maddeningly around her shapely body. She turned at the door. "Let us speak plainly, sir. I am not leaving Ireland. In fact, I am not leaving this area. If you are intent upon it, you will have to truss me like a goose."
    "If you act the goose, cailin, I will treat you like one."
    She hissed, almost like a goose. "Don't try to govern me, Miles Cavanagh. I am not a 'little girl.' I am a dangerous woman."
    And watching her swish out of the room, Miles believed her.
    He'd go odds she'd been the goose among the Farmyard Boys.
    Chapter Four
    Miles was still pondering these matters as he strolled down to the Shamrock to check on Argonaut. The people he passed greeted him cheerfully with no hint that they had been part of the attack the night before. He knew only too well, however, the screen the Irish peasantry could put up before authority. They didn't know him yet, and he'd get nothing out of them until they did.
    It could be that none of the men touching their forelocks and wishing him good day were members of the Farmyard Boys. Often these groups came from out of an area to deliver `justice' and then dispersed, making it less easy for the authorities to find them. It generally went hard on the local people, though, since the frustrated army would turn its soldiers loose on the population in revenge.
    Miles could understand the anger that drove these `patriot' groups and sympathize with the way the peasantry supported them. Ireland had been cruelly mistreated for centuries. But improvement, when it came, would be through peaceful means-legal means-not through local acts of violence. He would have thought a woman as intelligent as Felicity could see that.
    In the Shamrock stables he found Mick Flaherty rubbing down a draft horse.
    "Ah, good mornin` to you, your honor!" said the sturdy, middle-aged man. "And a fine mornin' it is, to be sure."
    "It'll be fine if my horse is fine, Mr. Flaherty."
    "I think you'll see that he is, sir," the man declared, leading the way to the stall. "Still some swelling, of course, but nothing to last. Hey, my fine fellow! You're in prime trim, aren't you?"
    The last was addressed to Argonaut, who was greeting the groom with deep devotion.
    Miles drew the horse's attention to himself and received a rather more offhand response. He inspected the damage and led Argonaut into the yard to study his movement. A slight hesitation, but nothing to suggest a deeper hidden injury. The groom was right. Chances were that Argonaut would heal completely.
    He