“Why do you hate me so?”
Lucas stared down at Reginald, Jane’s blasted ass, as he munched on a tangle of thistles he had apparently uncovered in the snow.
He’d ridden the borders of Cavanaugh lands and cut through the south property intent on heading for home. His emotions were no more in check than when he’d set out, but the weather had worsened, the storm finally making an appearance and fulfilling the dire predictions. He could not stay out-of-doors much longer without risking injury.
Nor could Reginald.
Lucas blew out a breath of resignation and jumped down from Horatio’s broad back, his booted feet landing in snow that reached well above his shins. “Come along, Reginald.”
The donkey stopped chewing for a moment, as if considering Lucas’s words, then continued, clearly unconcerned.
Lucas held on to Horatio’s reins and reached out for Reginald’s halter, before realizing there was nothing to tie the two animals together.
The driving wind cut through Lucas’s greatcoat like a knife, icy air prodding his shoulder blades. He squinted at the donkey through the blowing snow. “I don’t suppose you’d simply follow, eh?”
Lucas tugged Horatio forward and pulled gently on Reginald’s halter. The donkey remained where he was in answer to Lucas’s question.
“I could just leave you to the elements,” Lucas explained to the ass, looking about for something to use as a lead. “And I should, really. Poor Horatio here doesn’t deserve to freeze to death simply because you wouldn’t leave your precious thistles.”
Lucas pulled harder on the leather lead. Reginald seemed rooted to the spot, his head bobbing forward with each tug, but his body not moving one step.
“Dammit,” Lucas swore, looking up at the pregnant sky while he considered his options.
The animal responded with a loud snort.
“Be quiet, you ridiculous ass,” Lucas grumbled, lowering his head to look at the donkey. Just beyond one of the animal’s overgrown ears he caught sight of a small man-made lake he and his brother had fished many times as children. On the opposite side of the lake, behind a small hill that lay near the banks of the well-stocked water, there was a small cottage.
Lucas gave Reginald an apologetic look. “Here is the situation: I cannot possibly drag you to Juniper Hall. It’s too far and we would freeze to death before we got there. But that”—he pointed past the lake—“I believe we could manage. If you will cooperate.”
He was reasoning with an ass. It was absolute madness.
Reginald abruptly backed up and turned in the direction of the cottage, threatening to pull Lucas’s arm from its socket.
“Or not.”
Lucas clucked to Horatio and the three set out for the lake, Reginald’s short, stubby legs making their going excruciatingly slow.
Lucas’s frustration was so heavy, he could have shouted.
Instead, he focused on the falling snow. On the sound of his boots digging into the downy blanket that stretched out before him as far as the eye could see. On the soft, snuffling noises Reginald made when he grew tired and insisted on taking a momentary rest.
On anything else but his broken, aching heart.
“Do you know, Reginald,” Lucas said out loud, addressing the donkey as he would a human friend. “I have a rather dramatic flair—at least when it comes to your mistress.
“ ‘Broken, aching heart,’ ” he repeated his earlier thought with disgust. “Sounds like something Jane would say, does it not, Reginald?”
The donkey’s furry ears pricked up at the sound of his mistress’s name and he brayed three times in quick succession.
Lucas patted Reginald’s soft, hairy head. “No, my dear friend, your mistress is presently entertaining one Lord Needles—perhaps even accepting his proposal of marriage. You may have a new master in your future, in fact.”
They’d reached the lake and turned to take on the hill. “And it won’t be me.”
The three climbed in silence. Horatio snorted with impatience, his long, powerful legs clearly itching to simply run up the incline and be done with it. Reginald lowered his head and plowed forth, his short, squat bulk proving valuable against the fearsome wind and snow. And Lucas walked between the two, the muscles in his thighs burning with effort, his arms aching from keeping a firm hold on both equines.
Mother Nature was attempting to tell Lucas something, he felt sure of it. As he struggled to stay upright, his extremities pricking with a thousand needles, parts already completely numb, his body and mind begged him to abandon the consuming anger and sense of betrayal that had led him out into the storm to begin with. At last they reached the top of the hill and Lucas could just make out the tiny cottage in the distance.
He paused, catching his breath and allowing his fellow wanderers to do the same.
He had no one to blame but himself. Jane could have been his wife long, long ago. But Lucas had squandered time, traveling the world in search of his life, never realizing that everything he’d ever longed for could be found at Juniper Hall.
Yes, he could feel disappointed in Jane. He still believed that she’d felt something in his kiss—knew it in his bones, though they’d all but turned to ice. But she owed him nothing. He’d given her no reason to pursue those feelings.
He could not be angry with her. Jane’s family had nothing left to save them but a favorable marriage. She would have been a fool to ignore the opportunity Lord Needles represented.
“You stupid, short-sighted ass,” Lucas mumbled, defeat settling on his exhausted chest. “Not you, Reginald. Me.”
The wind shifted suddenly and the sound of pounding hoofbeats reached Lucas. He turned in the direction of the thuds, narrowing his eyes to see the horse. A rider sat astride a large draft, the horse’s powerful legs eating up the space between him and the trio.
“Lucas, wait …” the rider yelled, each word warped by the capricious wind.
The animals spooked at the ghostly sound, both releasing a squeal of fright.
Lucas turned back around just in time to see the white in Horatio’s eyes before he bolted for the bottom of the hill, Reginald rearing up on his hind legs, then scrambling after the Thoroughbred.
Lucas held on to the donkey’s halter as his knees connected with the ground and he began a fast, slippery descent down the hill. “Stop … this … instant!” he bellowed.
They were the last words Lucas spoke to the ass before a sudden and definitively violent jerk parted the two of them.
The world began to spin as he took the hill end over end. Rocks of all sizes connected with his flesh, sending a stinging sensation throughout his entire body. He forced his arms to his sides and rolled onto his back, his greatcoat acting as a flying carpet of sorts. The wind tore at his eyes and whistled through his ears as he picked up speed and crossed an outcropping of small boulders, becoming airborne, then landing hard just behind Reginald.
It occurred to Lucas that it would have been good fun, if not for the loose livestock.
He dropped the heels of his boots and employed them as a makeshift rudder, successfully steering himself around the donkey.
He offered Reginald a charming grin as he passed, before concentrating on the fast-approaching cottage.
It was too late. If he’d only remained a gentleman and refrained from taunting Reginald when he’d taken the lead.
But he hadn’t.
Regret overtook his senses the precise moment before he crashed into a snowbank.