The yard was already muddy, making her glad she had good boots to protect her feet. A man like Monroe would have a stone courtyard, with thousands upon thousands of small rocks hauled up to his castle to keep the rain from turning the courtyard outside his home into a bog. It was a task for which a smaller clan such as the Leasks did not have the resources. At least the stable was sturdy and dry. The stallion was happy to be led through the doorway and toward his stall. He snorted and shook the water from his head. Elspeth heard Monroe behind her and peeked back at the man. Slight amazement hit her as she caught him seeing to his horse with his own hands. For so powerful a man, the sure strokes of his hands drew her attention. He was no stranger to the task and even appeared to be enjoying it. No boy appeared to relieve his laird of the chore, which meant the man had either told his people to leave them alone or he always saw to his own stallion. “Ye find it surprising that I tend to my own horse, Elspeth?”
