She would take Grimm to task over his lapse in judgment immediately, before any more damage was done. Quite a crowd had gathered in the courtyard, and she could already see the parents shaking their heads and whispering among themselves. She promised herself she would handle this problem coolly and rationally, giving the onlookers no cause for gossip. She would explain to Grimm the proper way to treat young Zeke and demonstrate that she wasn’t always a witless idiot.
She exited the drum tower quickly and made her way to the courtyard.
Grimm led the horse in one last slow circle, certain that at any moment Jillian would burst from the castle. He knew he shouldn’t spend time with her, yet he found himself deliberately arranging to give Zeke his first riding lesson where she’d be certain to see. Only moments before he had glimpsed a flutter of motion and a fall of golden hair in the tower window. His gut tightened with anticipation as he lifted Zeke down from the stallion. “I suspect you feel comfortable with his gait now, Zeke. We’ve made a good start.”
“He’s very easy to ride. But I won’t be able to guide him myself, so what’s the point? I could never ride by myself.”
“Never say never, Zeke,” Grimm chided gently. “The moment you say ‘never’ you’ve chosen not to try. Rather than worrying about what you can’t do, set your mind to thinking of ways that you could do it. You might surprise yourself.”
Zeke blinked up at him. “But everybody tells me I canna ride.”
“Why do you think you can’t ride?” Grimm asked, lowering the boy to the ground.
“ ’Cause I canna see clearly. I may run your horse smack into a rock!” Zeke exclaimed.
“My horse has eyes, lad. Do you think he’d allow you to run him into a rock? Occam wouldn’t let you run him into anything. Trust me, and I’ll show you that a horse can be trained to compensate for your vision.”
“You really think one day I might be able to ride without your help?” Zeke asked in a low voice, so the onlookers gathered around wouldn’t hear the hope in his voice and mock him for it.
“Yes, I do. And I’ll prove it to you, in time.”
“What madness are you telling Zeke?” Jillian demanded, joining them.
Grimm turned to face her, savoring her flushed cheeks and brilliant eyes. “Go on, Zeke.” He gave the lad a gentle nudge toward the castle. “We’ll work on this again tomorrow.”
Zeke grinned at Grimm, stole a quick look at Jillian’s face, and left hurriedly.
“I’m teaching Zeke to ride.”
“Why? He can’t see well, Grimm. He will never be able to ride by himself. He’ll only end up getting hurt.”
“That’s not true. The lad’s been told he can’t do a lot of things that he can do. There are different methods for training a horse. Although Zeke may have poor eyesight, Occam here”—Grimm gestured to his snorting stallion—“has keen enough senses for them both.”
“What did you just say?” Jillian’s brow furrowed.
“I said my horse can see well enough—”
“I heard that part. What did you call your horse?” she demanded, unaware her voice had risen sharply, and the dispersing crowd had halted collectively, hanging on her every word.
Grimm swallowed. He hadn’t thought she’d remember! “Occam,” he said tightly.
“Occam? You named your horse Occam?” Every man, woman, and child in the lower bailey gaped at the uneven timbre of their lady’s voice.
Jillian stalked forward and poked an accusing finger at his chest. “Occam?” she repeated, waiting.
She was waiting for him to say something intelligent, Grimm realized. Damn the woman, but she should know better than that. Intelligent just didn’t happen when he was around Jillian. Then again, demure and temperate didn’t seem to happen when Jillian was around him. Give them a few minutes and they’d be brawling in the courtyard of Caithness while the whole blasted castle watched in abject fascination.
Grimm searched her face intently, seeking some flaw of form that betrayed a weakness of character, anything he could seize upon and stoke into a defense against her charms, but he may as well have searched the seas for a legendary selkie. She was simply perfect. Her strong jaw reflected her proud spirit. Her clear golden eyes shone with truth. She pursed her lips, waiting. Overly full lips, the lower one plump and rosy. Lips that would part sweetly when he took her, lips between which he would slide his tongue, lips that might curve around his …