The Countess by Catherine Coulter

back. I would like to know who this someone was. I want to kill him.”

“I get to kill him first, the damnable bastard. Trying to hurt me is one thing,

but doing this to my horse, my God, I will shoot the person who did this.”

His arms tightened, as if in surprise. Then he grinned down at me. “We will have

to see about that,” he said, then grew quiet for a moment. “You know, Andy, if I

had been the one riding her, the barbs would have gone in very deeply, probably

all the way. Since you are much smaller, it took longer and it took more

movement from you. But it happened. She was enraged, maddened by the time you

jumped. The pain must have been very bad indeed.”

I swallowed. “If I hadn’t gone over her head, she would have fallen on me.”

“Very probably.”

My father’s letter was clear in my mind. I said, turning my face into his shirt,

breathing in his warm scent, “A warning, yet another warning to me. That someone

who did this could never be certain that it would end up with me dead. The same

thing with the old woman and that damned knife of yours telling me that I would

pay for all of it, whatever that means. Warnings, both of them. But why?”

“I don’t know. But now I’m really mad, and I fully intend to find out. The first

thing is for you to go back to London, to your grandfather’s house.”

It sounded like a fine plan to me. It sounded smart, logical. It sounded safe.

It sounded like entering a nunnery and locking big iron doors behind me. Nothing

could hurt me there. But, there would never be any answers. Worse, perhaps I

would never be safe, even hidden in my nunnery. I said, my voice miserable, “No,

I can’t leave. Don’t you see? If I leave, then we will never know who is doing

this and why. Perhaps even if I did leave, this unknown person would still want

to hurt me and would come after me. John, no, don’t argue with me. You know I’m

right. I won’t be safe until I find out who is doing this to me. Listen, I’m not

unprotected. I bought a derringer from Mr. Forrester. I know how to shoot it. I’m

not a complete idiot. It’s fastened to a strap around my thigh.”

His arms tensed, then slowly eased again. I hadn’t convinced him. But that made

sense, he was a man. “Everything you said is true, but there is still a very big

problem. We won’t know where the next threat will come from.”

“I will try not to be alone anymore. I have my derringer. I know how to shoot.

Give me a villain, and I’ll put a hole through him. Normally George is with me.

George makes a lot of noise. He is good protection.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but I knew that, like Grandfather, he was

probably just holding silent until he came up with arguments. “Do you feel well

enough to return home now?”

“Yes.”

I watched him shrug back into his riding jacket and place the barbed circle of

wire into his pocket.

“Try to hold on to me.” He lifted me in his arms and held me high. I was

clutching his shirt, my face pressed against his neck. He carried me to Tempest,

who was eating some lovely goose grass some fifteen feet away.

“Hang on, Andy. Once we get on his back, I’m going to seat you in front of me.”

“I can do it.”

“Good girl.” I don’t know how he managed it, but he got both of us up on Tempest’s

back. He eased me in front of him. The pain was so ghastly that I couldn’t keep

still even with my fist stuffed into my mouth.

“All right,” he said close to my cheek. “It’s all right. Just breathe slowly,

lightly. That’s it. I’ll hold you, and we’ll go very slowly.” He simply eased me

crossways on the saddle, pulled me close to his chest, and managed Tempest’s

reins with one hand. “Hold onto me as best you can. Keep your eyes shut. It

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