Rain beat down on the roof of the stables from a gray unfriendly sky. Conor stood over a furnace, pounding away at horseshoes. His face devoid of emotion, covered in sweat, he pounded the horseshoe a little more then shoved it into a bucket of water. He watched the water sizzle the steam rise and then he threw it carelessly into a large pile of finished ones. He wiped his forehead with his wrist and without hesitation started on another. He wasn't a boy anymore, but a man of twenty-one. His thin body of adolescence, replaced by a lean, wiry one ladled with muscle. He had aged well, with a strong jawbone, slightly chiseled features and full mouth. His unkempt, dark brown hair reached his shoulders, and his green eyes were no longer the carefree orbs they once were. They were guarded, cold even. His disposition was that of a man who had been hit with disappointment and pain too many times for it to possibly make a difference anymore. He was dressed in long, lose, pants and a short sleeved shirt. Lightening flashed as he flung another into the pile. A horse snorted and he glanced up to see Eliza ride up, drenched and grinning. Her waist length hair hung about her in drenched clumps and her blue gown clung to her wet body. He shook his head and returned his attention to the horseshoes. She dismounted and led her jet-black stallion over to its stall removing its saddle and bridle. She walked up to him and wrung out her hair.

"Hello." She said.

"You're mad." He stated simply. She frowned playfully and releasing her hair, started on her gown.

"Mad, how so?" she asked. He paused and stared at her, his expression showing little tolerance for games. Then he shoved the shoe into the bucket of water and sighed. The steam rose up, coiling about his head as he flung it into the pile. He ran a slightly scarred hand through his hair and continued his work.

"To go riding in this." He said gesturing outside.

"Oh and your one to talk. You went riding without a saddle or a bridle, racing through the market with Wat without a shirt on."

"I'm a squire." He replied throwing the shoe into the pile almost angrily. His eyes flashed and he looked down at the furnace as he started on another. "No one cares what I do. As long as I full fill my duties." His tone was bitter and he stared at the fire shoving the shoe deeper into the flame. He shook his head slightly, as if shaking himself out of a trance "Besides which, you know what Geoff's going to say."

"What he always says." She said offhand pulling herself onto a ledge. "You're going to catch a cold." They said in unison.

"Honestly Eliza I wish that you would just listen to the man. He is right."

"I know, but there's nothing wrong with living a little." She said innocently, looking at him with doe eyes. He glared at her. She was truly a beauty with her wide almond shaped eyes, sumptuous lips and cute nose. She had a heart shaped face and ivory skin.

"Don't assume those innocent airs with me, I'm not your father." He said.

"And don't think that you can push me around because you're older."

"I don't think that I can push you around because I'm older. I know I can because I'm wiser and faster." He replied.

"Ha, ha." She replied dryly and he grinned. Kate walked up to him and smiled warmly.

"How are those shoes coming." He gestured at the pile with his tongs and she glanced over at the pile. "Good, I think you better than I am."

"I try." He replied grinning going back to his work. She rolled her eyes and looked at Eliza. Her smile faded into a frown.

"Have you been riding in the rain again?" she asked crossly.

"Well it's raining and I'm wet. What do you think?"

"I think that your father would want to have a word with you young lady." She said firmly, before her scowl melted into a grin.

"Yes I think he would." Said William walking up to them. "Hello daughter."

"Hello father." She replied, not nearly as cocky as she was with Kate and Conor.

"Go change into dry clothes. Now." he said firmly.

"Yes, father." And she turned and went to the house.