would not take long for anyone with half an eye to realize I was a woman, that I
was more than just a woman who was a thief, that I was the damned Countess of
Devbridge. “Ah, you stole your step-nephew’s horse because you are escaping from
your husband who wants to strangle you? Perhaps you are just like the former
poor countess who was stark-raving mad?”
I shuddered at that thought. No, it was not worth the risk to stop at this
village. I would simply have to ride Tempest to the next village or a farmhouse.
I slowed Tempest, looking about for the best route to skirt the village. There
was an open field just to my right. Tempest sailed over the low fence. George
barked all the while we were in midair. He liked to fly.
Once beyond the village, I brought Tempest back onto the main road. The long
ride continued, the silence broken only by an occasional muffled wuff from
George and by the steady pounding of Tempest’s hooves. I slowed him to a walk. I
wasn’t about to kill this wonderful animal. Time dragged on. The cold settled
into my bones. My face was so cold I simply couldn’t feel it anymore. Think
about something else. And so I thought about what I was going to do and decided
I would remain at Deerfield Hall until Peter came. The servants would hide me,
lie for me, if Lawrence came to see if I was there. Once Peter was with me, he
would know what to do. He would protect me from the madman I had married.
“I know, I know, to make a mistake as colossal as the one I made, requires a
good deal of blindness and self-deception,” I said to George, and petted his
head through my cloak. He wuffed back. I knew he was probably agreeing with me.
Of course there had been no one to protect that poor stable lad, Billy, from me.
Thankfully, Rucker was asleep in his own bed and nowhere around. I would not
have liked to tangle with Rucker. Billy was another matter entirely. He was
young and slight, and I knew he would have a headache from the blow I gave him
to the head, but he would be all right. I had tied him up and hidden him beneath
a mound of hay. Taking Tempest had been easy, which was a good thing, because I
was getting so scared I was beginning to stutter even when I spoke to George.
Suddenly, Tempest raised his head and stilled. Had a bird or an animal
frightened him? He whinnied.
I jumped off his back, nearly fell to my knees because my legs were so stiff and
cold, and pulled him to the side of the road. I clamped my fingers down on his
nostrils. I could not let him whinny again. The two of us remained motionless in
tense silence, waiting. I could feel George’s cold nose, now wet through my
shirt.
I felt the ground shake beneath my feet. Horses were coming. I felt them even
before I heard them. There were several riders, perhaps three, and they were
coming closer. I pulled Tempest farther into the line of trees. They were mostly
maple trees, and all bare and thinned here, which wasn’t fair, but it couldn’t
be helped. I clutched Tempest’s nostrils more firmly.
The horses slowed not thirty feet away from me. I could hear the men’s voices.
Oh, no, they must have heard Tempest’s first whinny. I clung to him, feeling him
shudder, but he held still, bless him.
“I tell you,” a man shouted into that cold still air, “I know that bloody horse
can’t be far. He’s fast, and he’s got endurance?he’s a war-horse. But even he
must be flagging by now.”
No, you’re utterly wrong, I thought. Tempest is beyond any horse you know about.
He could fly all the way to London without slowing or tiring. Why don’t you just
keep hunting, tracking. Go, go, go. I said it over and over to myself, a litany,
a prayer. Yes, just keep going. We’re not here. There’s nothing for you here,