Now, it was she who was scowling.
“I’m Radish’s trainer.”
She gasped. “You?”
“Lord Branwell’s regiment of Light Dragoons was known for the best-trained horses in the cavalry,” said Sir Abstrupus. “And you’re looking at the reason why.”
Artemis let flabbergasted silence speak for her. Really, in the correct circumstances, it could speak volumes.
Lord Branwell offered her a bow. “I’ll see you at noon, Lady Artemis.” He hesitated. “Unless, of course, you choose not to come.”
Artemis snapped to. “Oh, I’ll be there.”
It was the goading she’d needed to ensure her presence. He looked as if he very much regretted saying it.
“Shall I have the carriage brought round to drive you home?” Sir Abstrupus was all too happy to play the generous host now that he’d gotten his way.
“I’ll walk,” she tossed over her shoulder as she set her legs in motion and did exactly that.
With the night sky turning to day in the east, the forward march of her feet homeward was the only steadying force in her life at the moment. Now that she’d gained a bit of distance from the night, utter disbelief created a sort of fog in her brain, depriving her of clarity.
Well, one thing was clear.
Within the space of a few hours, her life had gone arse over head.
Yet the sequence of how she’d arrived at this topsy-turvy reality was almost mundane.
Lord Branwell Mallory was a guest of Sir Abstrupus.
She and Sir Abstrupus were neighbors.
When Sir Abstrupus had a party, he always invited Artemis. It was only natural to invite his neighbors.
It was further only natural that his guest would attend.
The point was she had known she would have to see Lord Branwell again.
She’d devoted hours to making her peace with the fact.
And she’d been almost, even mostly, successful.
In fact, she’d made an impressive amount of progress in the scant time given.
But now, after having gotten a good look at Lord Branwell—the extent of his injuries … the lame leg … the scarred face … the man he was today—and then having competed against him, and further,lostto him, he was completely entwined with her life.
It was within those details that clarity became murky, and she lost the thread. How had this happened?
The whim of Sir Abstrupus was the easy answer.
But it wasn’t the truest one.
The truth was, a force existed between her and Lord Branwell. It had been there from the moment they’d met in her brother’s stables …
It had inspired all that had come after, too—and neither betrayal nor ten years apart was enough to fully extinguish it.
He understood it, too.
The knowledge had shone within his eyes when they’d shaken hands.
