Finally, we slowed. “You are a skilled rider,” I said.
“Flattery will not soften me into letting you win our next race.”
“Not flattery, an observation. You really are talented.”
Damon shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. “My skill, if I possess any at all, is merely a product of my education.”
I shook my head. “No one can ride the way you do without some degree of passion.”
“You wish to speak of passion, do you?” A rakish grin pulled at his mouth.
He did this often—tried to transfer his discomfort to me by uttering some quip. Only, now that I knewhewas uncomfortable,Iwasn’t. “You love horses. It is as plain as day. Why deny it?”
He shrugged. “Horses can only ever be a pastime, not a passion.”
“Well, he is beautiful. What breed is he?”
“A Royal Friesian.” Damon affectionately rubbed the horse’s neck. “I won him at the tables and decided to keep him for myself.”
“As opposed to . . . ?”
Damon glanced at me in question. “Pardon?”
“You said you decided to keep him for yourself, as opposed to what?”
“Oh.” He shook his head. “Nothing.”
He was avoiding the topic, but I could not figure out why. Perhaps he was embarrassed of his gambling. Rightfully so. It was a ghastly habit.
We continued on, and a few moments later, he huffed a laugh.
“Something funny?” I asked.
“I was only remembering something. When I was a boy, I once planned to run away and ride across all of Europe. Rome, Spain, Greece . . .”
“What stopped you?”
“You mean, besides England’s confinement to an island and being forever at war?”
“Yes.” I rolled my eyes. “Besides that.”
His smile dimmed, and he looked into the distance. “Conservabo ad mortem,” he said almost to himself.
I recognized the words from the Jennings family crest. Conserve? Death? I could guess at the direct translation of the individual words, but I was far from fluent in Latin and didn’t understand their collective meaning.
“Perhaps you’re right,” he said before I could ask. “Perhaps I do enjoy horseflesh. Let us give our mounts their heads again.”
Damon didn’t wait for me to agree before he spurred Ares into a gallop.
I followed at a distance this time, content to lag behind.
Damon was magnificent on his mount. He ran his horse fast and hard and ably. I got the distinct impression he was trying to outrun something. But what?
As we came to the end of the meadow, the woods loomed before us. I reluctantly pulled back on Andromeda’s reins, slowing her to trot beside Ares. The smile on my face, however, I could not rein in.
“Never in all my life have I felt so wild. Sofree.”
“Freedom.” Damon smiled. “Incredible feeling, isn’t it?”
