Vanquished

Chapter Two

The taunting promise Delilah left behind continued to ring in her ears long after the irritating stranger was out of sight. She didn’t even know his name, but did it really matter? While he might think they would cross paths again, she wasn’t a frequent visitor to Ireland, had never even stepped foot anywhere other than English soil, for her father relied on her too much with the horses, and since she loved the animals just as much, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else for a lengthy period of time.

Hearing the sound of muffled giggling behind one of the empty horse stalls she passed, Delilah stopped abruptly and pivoted back around. She had a good idea who was behind the lady’s merriment.

She didn’t look over the door to confirm her suspicions, afraid of what she might see. Instead, she pounded on the wood, which was followed by a grunt and a curse. “David, if you are on the other side of this stall, I suggest you look in on Hercules immediately. He isn’t acting right, and I fear his feed has turned bad.” She paused. “Or I would be glad to go to my father and—”

The door opened so quickly that she jumped back expectantly. The groom’s eyes were glossy as usual, and the scent of brandy surrounded him, as if the drink itself was seeping out through his pores. His trousers were thankfully fastened, though, while his shirt was on, it was untucked, and his jacket was thrown over his arm. “Of course. I should hate to disappoint you by shirking my duties,” he cajoled sarcastically.

Delilah merely glared at him as he walked off, and with a roll of her eyes toward the lady still reclining in the hay, pieces of straw clinging to her unbound dark hair and her dress in disarray, Delilah turned on her heel. Not only was she furious at the servant for ignoring his job to care for the best stud in their stable, but she was angry at herself for being distracted. Her lips still tingled at the memory of the Irishman’s kiss, and she resisted the urge to touch them with her fingers just to relive the delightful pressure.

She did her best to push the encounter to the side and focus on what was truly amiss, which was Hercules and his health. He came to every auction with them, for some of the buyers were interested to see the stud for themselves. Not once did they find fault with him and generally his foals sold for a high price. However, if they couldn’t get his energetic demeanor back, this time they might not be as lucky with their sales.

When she arrived at the stall, David was already mucking the stall and replacing fresh straw. Her father was there as well and seemed to take in the stallion’s lethargic appearance with some careful consideration. She prayed this would make the difference in relieving David of his further duties and hiring a new groom.

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice this feed was old,” her father noted.

David paused in his work and laid an arm on the pitchfork. “I fear other matters had tied me up today, but as soon as I noticed he was acting strangely, I took care of the problem.”

Delilah snorted, for she couldn’t let such a lie stand. “Actually, Papa, I was the one who told David about Hercules. He was too busy swiving a maid in the hay to—”

“Delilah! Watch your language!” her father reprimanded, and she couldn’t help but note that David had a smirk on his face as he watched the exchange. However, when the baron turned to him, he sobered. “I appreciate your service these past few weeks, sir, but you are relieved of your duties effective immediately.”

The former groom let go of the pitchfork and tugged on his jacket sleeves, finally allowing his lazy demeanor to show. “Of course, guvn’r. I’d hate to take up any more of your precious time.”

He sauntered away and Delilah started to bend over and pick up the pitchfork, but her father halted her with a hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

She waved a hand at the stallion. “I’m doing his job and taking care of Hercules.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re not. You know it isn’t proper for a baron’s daughter to clean out a horse’s stall. In all honesty, women aren’t expected to attend these auctions, but since our stables house some of the finest stock in the country, the gentlemen tend to let your presence here slide.”

She exhaled heavily, resenting yet again the fact that she hadn’t been born a male. She crossed her arms over her chest. “But Hercules—”

Her father wasn’t even paying attention to her but glanced over her shoulder. “Excuse me, sir? But I lost my groom and am in need of some assistance.”

“I’d be glad to help ye.”

Delilah stiffened, for she knew that deep, Irish brogue. She closed her eyes momentarily and prayed she was wrong, but when she opened them and turned to the speaker, those bright, green eyes were fixed on her, a broad smile splayed across his chiseled face.

“Indeed?” The baron sounded truly grateful, and it caused Delilah’s teeth to clench even tighter. He reached down and handed the pitchfork to him. “I fear Hercules has suffered some indigestion from some bad feed, but once we can get him to eat the replacement grain, I am confident that he will be good as new for the upcoming showing this afternoon.”

“Aye. Of course.” The scoundrel dared to wink at Delilah as he took the handle and got to work.

Her father turned to leave, but before he did, he paused in front of her. “Be nice to him, Delilah,” he murmured firmly. “We can’t afford to lose another hand until after the auction.”

Delilah wanted to stamp her foot in frustration, but she reluctantly nodded her head. The baron seemed satisfied, for he left her alone with the Irishman, who was already doing more work in the past few moments than David had done all day. Nearly all the bedding on the stall floor was gone and being replaced with new straw. She remained silent and watched as he kept his attention on Hercules, and once the mucking work was done and new grain filled the feeding trough, he walked to the stallion’s head and began to talk to him in soft, gentle tones, most of which was urging him to eat.

To her surprise, Hercules obeyed without any kind of derisive snort.

“He doesn’t take that well to anyone.”

At first, Delilah hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud, until those green eyes turned to her. “I have a natural talent when it comes to horses.”

She rolled her eyes. “You sound rather confident of yourself.”

He shrugged. “There’s no use denying the truth.”

She tilted her head to the side, studying him. While he appeared to know a lot about horses, she had to wonder about his background, for he seemed a bit more… correct than David had been. At least, when it came to his mannerisms. His character was another matter entirely. “Are you actually a groom?”

He seemed to mull over her query for a moment. “Something like that,” he returned with a smile. He patted Hercules on the side, as the animal began to eat in earnest now. The groom walked out of the stall to join her. “Ye’ll find that I have many talents.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “But then, I think ye’ve already sampled some of what I have to offer.”

Delilah’s breathing grew shallow, although she told herself not to be affected by the charm that came so naturally to him, the kind that he likely used on every other woman he met. “If you’ll excuse me?”

She turned to go, but he said, “I didn’t realize Baron Kingsworth was yer father.”

Unwittingly, she spun back to face him. “Does that surprise you?”

He was leaning against the stall, but he’d lifted his hand to trail his thumb along his lower lip. “I’m not sure yet.” His green eyes practically glowed with interest. “Do I get the pleasure of yer name, lass?”

Delilah wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or complimented. But the way he said pleasure made her stomach clench all the same. “It’s Delilah,” she offered primly. Don’t ask…don’t ask… “And you are?”

He offered her another one of those heart-stopping grins as he pushed away from the stall and walked toward her. Delilah instructed her feet to remain where they were, to stand her ground, but it wasn’t until he reached out and ran a hand gently down her arm, causing her to shiver, that she let out a reluctant sigh of delight.

“It’s Conor. And it would be a good idea to remember it, for ye’ll soon be screaming it with desire.”

Delilah knew she should slap him for his insolence, but for some reason, she was rather intrigued by his statement instead of repelled. She was on the verge of telling him that she would need further proof of his talents before she could succumb to such a proposal but stopped herself from blurting out the challenge before she found herself completely over her head.

But she couldn’t let the conversation just end there. So, she took a page from his book of seduction and leaned closer to whisper, “There’s no harm in dreaming.”

For the second time that morning, Delilah left the Irishman behind, his deep chuckle floating in the air behind her.