“A storm is coming this way, Lord Julius,” the older man said. “Do you deem it wise to ride for home tonight? The missus would make you a bed if there are no rooms to be had at the inn.”
“Thank you for the kind offer, Hudson, but do you believe a few snowflakes frighten me more than my mother?”
“The marchioness’s a fearsome lady, that she is.” The weathered lines around the stable master’s eyes were magnified when he smiled. “If I let you ride off in this weather, I fear I’ll feel the sting of her sharp tongue following services Christmas morn.”
“After church, indeed. Mother would meet you at the front door.”
“Oof!” The stable master winced and chuckled. He was an affable chap who’d worked at the mews since Julius was a boy and knew his family well.
“Lady Seabrook has a heart of gold,” Hudson said. “Lots of good she does for the village.”
“She is a good mother, too, but like you, I’d rather she not hear I risked life and limb to get home tonight.” Julius tapped a finger against his temple. “I have a plan.”
Hudson, having fulfilled his duty, shook his head and disappeared into the mews. The sweet scent of hay and richness of leather escaped through the opened door. Julius waited. His damned uneven boots made him sway side to side. He glowered at the mud-splattered excuse for footwear and threatened to toss them in the bin at Everly Manor if they didn’t behave.
A moment later the stablehand led Julius’s horse outside to the mounting block. The Welsh Cob’s mahogany coat glimmered in the lantern light, and his pale blond mane lit like a halo. His name was fitting. Torch. If Julius believed riding home posed a danger, he wouldn’t risk an injury to his beloved horse.
Julius pulled a piece of carrot from his greatcoat pocket and spoke lovingly to the gelding. Torch sniffed the offering before gently taking it. The treat wasn’t a bribe but an appreciation of his patience.
“Not much longer until you are back to your warm stall,” Julius murmured. “I promise, a bucket of oats awaits you.”
Hudson cleared his throat; Julius startled. He’d forgotten about his audience. Julius’s brothers always teased him whenever they caught him talking to the horses, but he saw it no different from their sister Ammie chattering to her dogs. If the older man thought the behavior was odd, he never gave a hint of it. Julius dug into his purse for an extra coin to thank him.
“Godspeed, my lord."
As Julius rode away from the village with its glowing lamps and cheerfully lit windows, darkness engulfed him and his horse. A full moon fought to penetrate the inky clouds creeping across the sky, but its valiant efforts were for naught. When Torch wanted to trot on the rutted road, Julius held him back. Anything other than walking was too risky, even if his horse could see better than him.
He couldn’t be certain how far he’d traveled before a vicious gust tore through the bare trees. The first few stinging icy pellets caught him by surprise, but not nearly as much as the flash of blue light that illuminated the sky. A distant rumble followed.
His horse tensed beneath him. Julius leaned forward to pat Torch’s neck and speak soothing words, but another bright flash and clap of thunder caused the gelding toss his head and snort. Torch danced sideways; Julius gripped the horse’s sides to keep his seat. A loud crack of thunder ripped the sky open and frozen rain pelted them. Torch whinnied, on the verge of bolting. Julius managed to hold him at bay then loosened his grip to ease the horse’s sense of feeling trapped.
“Easy, now. Easy. Let’s seek out shelter.”
At Julius’s urging, Torch took a few jittery steps. Lightening struck a tree a hundred feet away.
“Damnation!” The bright blast blinded him. Torch whirled on his hind legs. Julius tightened his hold on the reins a second before his horse shot into the forest. Julius wobbled on the saddle as the gelding wove through trees and dashed under low hanging branches. He ducked before a fir limb unseated him, but it clipped his hat. A white shroud of snow and rain obstructed Julius's view. Icy shards, sharp as needles, struck his face. He closed his eyes to protect them as Torch raced into a culvert. He yelled for the gelding to stop. The horse tensed beneath him and sailed over a creek. Julius’s reflexes were too slow. He bounced on the saddle, becoming airborne. The reins ripped from his grasp.
He hit the frigid shallow water hard. The air was sucked from his lungs. Torch’s hoofbeats grew faint. Julius lay staring into the night sky, waiting to learn if he was still alive.
Chapter Two
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Lady Elisabeth Hadley jumped. “What in the world?"
“Miss Price! Miss Price!” A thunderous commotion came from the corridor as if a herd of wild horses ran loose in her cousin’s country cottage. The young maid burst through the sitting room threshold with the front of her apron gripped in her fists. Her twin brother careened into her when he sprinted into the room. They stumbled but didn’t fall. Their identical chestnut brown eyes were as round as mincemeat pies.
Bess’s cousin frowned. “How many times did Papa tell you not to run in the house?”
Anne, thin cheeks red from exertion, stammered an apology, but Gemma was a stern mistress tonight and wouldn’t allow the transgression to pass. “He would be cross if he were here to witness such carrying on.”
“A man’s out back,” Robbie blurted and pointed in the general direction of the back of the house. “He’s banging on the kitchen door.”
Gemma dropped her needlepoint in the basket at her feet. “Who is he? What does he want?”
“To come inside,” the servants said in unison.
Anne’s chin quivered. “What if he’s come to murder us?”
“Utter nonsense. I will speak with him myself.” Gemma pushed from the plush pink armchair and headed toward the threshold. She stopped long enough to wag her finger at the twins. “And no more scary stories before bed for either of you. I didn’t teach you to read so you could fill your minds with rubbish.”
The adolescents bobbed their heads. “Yes, ma’am.”
Bess popped from her seat. “Gemma, wait.” On a night when the wind howled through the shutters and thunder rolled across the sky, no sane man would dare to venture outdoors. “Let’s go together. We will keep the door barred until we know who it is.”
Bess suggested the servants wait by the fire so they wouldn’t catch a chill and followed Gemma into the corridor. At the bottom of the stairwell, a splintering crack echoed through the cottage. Cursing came from the kitchen followed by a crash that shook the floorboards.
Bess’s heart lodged in her throat. Gemma gripped her arm.
“He’s inside, Bess. What should we do?”
Glass shattered. “B-bollocks!”
A man’s form filled the threshold, not five feet away. His back was to them. Icicles clung to his dark hair, and shivers wracked his body. He stumbled against the doorframe. “D-damnation.”
With a shrug of his shoulders, his greatcoat crumpled at his feet. His jacket followed. When he ripped off his gloves with his teeth and fumbled with his waistcoat, Gemma issued a tiny squeak and pulled Bess into the dark butler’s pantry.