Page 48 of How to Win a Duke’s Heart

Five minutes later, Sophronie descended the wide staircase. She’d skipped a bonnet and chosen to wear a simple navy-blue woolen cloak. It had been among her clothing that had arrived from London several weeks ago.

As she walked down the corridor to the foyer, voices stretched from the entrance to her. Not only was Larissa waiting for her bundled in a thick cloak, but so were Sarah and Rosalind.

“We wanted to see the filly too,” Sarah said, tying her bonnet beneath her chin. Her eyes held a mischievous gleam. “We promise to be quiet, so the mother doesna become nervous.”

There was something magical about seeing a newborn foal—anything newborn for that matter. It was as close to a miracle as the average person would ever get, and Sophronie never ceased to be awed at the Almighty’s handiwork.

As they trekked the pathway to the stables, the women chatted gaily. The autumn wind whipped at the hems of their skirts, and the cold nipped their cheeks and noses. Laughing, they entered the warm stables, and Sophronie inhaled deeply.

She adored the smell of horses and hay.

To her surprise, Anna, the grandmothers, and the aunts, as she’d come to think of them, were also in the barn. She supposed everyone was excited to see the newest addition to Evan’s stables.

“Sophronie.”

She turned upon hearing Evan’s voice behind her, and her heart stopped before resuming beating with a frenzy.

That was no filly.

“Cinnamon,” she choked, barely able to say her beloved mare’s name.

Muscular legs braced, he stood there, hair tousled from the wind and an enigmatic smile upon his lips.

“Cinnamon,” Sophronie said again, unable to believe her eyes.

Cinnamon neighed, lifting her head up and down in excitement and scraping the ground with her hoof.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Sophronie ran to the mare and threw her arms around her neck.

“I’ve missed you so, so much,” she sobbed into the horse’s warm hide.

Laughter and clapping broke out behind her, and she realized Evan’s entire family had been in on the surprise. They were truly special people, and she’d come to love them these past weeks.

Cinnamon bent and wrapped her neck around Sophronie, hugging her back.

“Would ye look at that,” Brody McFarland said in amazement. “Never in all of my years have I seen a horse hug a human.”

“It takes a special bond,” Evan said in an unexpectedly gravelly voice somewhere near her ear. “Verra few people are ever as privileged, and those who are have a rare affinity for horseflesh. Sophronie is one of those unique people.”

The emotion and admiration in his tenor brought another swell of tears to her eyes. Coming from him, it was great praise indeed.

She glanced up, meeting his eyes, and her breath hitched at the smoldering emotion she saw in those blue-gray depths. It made her hot all over and heavy in her belly. Her feet moved toward him of their own volition, and she hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, Evan. Thank you.”

He encircled her with his strong arms, and she never wanted him to stop holding her. It felt so right. So natural.

“I’d do anything to bring a smile to yer face, leannan.”

She leaned back, searching his gentle eyes. She could’ve loved this man in another time and place. Would’ve done anything to win his heart, but that option was stolen from her.

“Anything?”

He kissed her forehead with such reverent tenderness, tears sprang to her eyes. “Anythin’ but let ye go.”