I rode Lightning at a sedate pace back to Kenwick, enjoying the solitude of the countryside. Hope sprouted in my chest the more I pondered my conversation with Mrs. Galvin. If young Lucas could be persuaded to help, I would have eyes inside the manor. Such a close watch on Hollinsby would be invaluable. It wasn’t the tangible evidence I needed, but it gave me somewhere to start. Every eyewitness account was yet more that Hollinsby would be required to deny.
And it was far more difficult to lie one’s way out of trouble with multiple testimonies attesting to fault.
A sharp scream rent the air, and Lightning whinnied beneath me. I pulled back on Lightning's reins to steady him, speaking in a soothing tone. The sound had come from the direction of the ruins, and my pulse immediately quickened its tempo.
Annette.
Without another moment’s consideration, I veered from the road, taking a lesser-maintained trail onto the Kenwick estate. Lightning’s hooves pounded against the ground, the sound echoing in my ears in time with my racing heart. Annette spent a great deal of time at the ruins, and while much of those grounds had seemed safe, there were places where the crumbling walls left one to wonder at the structure’s stability.
I rounded a bend, nearing the fork in the trail that led to the ruins, and my gaze landed on two figures in the center of the path. I recognized Annette’s fiery hair, even though she faced away from me and was shielded partially from view, but I had never seen the brown-haired man holding her against him. Jealousy pulsed through me until I realized that Annette struggled in his grasp, prying at the hand fastened around her middle and the one covering her mouth.
With my hard yank on the reins, Lightning slowed, and I dismounted before the stallion had fully stopped. My feet hit the ground, and I ran forward. Still blind to my presence, the man yelped when I grabbed his great coat and turned him to face me. His dark eyes met mine, wide and glossy, and the scent of alcohol wafted from him in dense waves.
“Who are you?” he sputtered.
“Release her,” I demanded, ignoring his question.
The man scoffed. “You’ve no authority to order—”
I yanked on his coat, drawing him nearer, my fist pressing against his throat. “I said, release her.”
The man cowered at my dark tone, his hands immediately loosening their hold. Annette stumbled away from us, a quiet sob escaping her lips. My heart clenched. As much as I wished to go to her, this blackguard needed to be dealt with first.
Grabbing his arm and maintaining my grip on his coat, I dragged him to the edge of the path and slammed him against the nearest tree. He stiffened, and fear lit his eyes. His words tumbled out, slurred and pleading. “I was only having a bit of fun. I meant no harm.”
“Only the worst sort of scum would ever classify his unwanted attention on a lady asfun. So, allow me to provide you with some well-needed clarity. If you ever lay a hand on her again, I swear I’ll call you out myself. Rest assured, I am quite good with a pistol.”
The man swallowed hard. “Have you an agreement with her, then?”
I glanced over my shoulder, hesitant to assert any right to defend Annette’s honor when we did not, in fact, have any sort of understanding between us. Regardless of my good intentions, defending her in such a manner—making threats to call the satyr out—could certainly stir rumors.
But Annette was no longer on the path, and a quick survey of our surroundings proved she had vanished.
I returned my attention to the man. “I have no understanding with her at present but hope to shortly; however, this much I will promise you: understanding or no, I will not hesitate to defend her honor, nor would her brothers, were they to discover your despicable behavior. For your own sake, stay away from her. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” he spat.
I released him with one final shove. He stumbled back against the tree, bracing his fall by leaning heavily onto the trunk. He staggered away from me, his balance impaired due to his overindulgence, and proceeded past the path leading to the ruins. He glanced over his shoulder several times to ensure I was not following him.
Annette.
My gaze searched the surrounding woodland. I hadn’t expected to see her, but my heart lurched nonetheless. Desperation to ensure she had not been harmed filled me, and I quickly rushed to where Lightning stood on the path and mounted.
She could have gone back to Kenwick. Indeed, most women would after having experienced such an ordeal. But Annette was not like most ladies, and instinct prodded me forward.
Prodded me toward the crumbling ruins.
Chapter twenty
Annette
Despitethewarmthofthe early afternoon sun, my body shivered, a residual consequence of Mr. Wilcot’s touch. Of his whispered intentions. In all my interactions with Margaret’s husband, not once had I ever suspected him capable of such things. My opinion of him certainly hadn’t been high before, but now? I couldn’t fathom what Margaret must endure being married to the foul cad.
A hard shudder rippled through me, and I pressed my back against a stone wall of the ruins, clinching my eyes closed. Would I ever rid myself of the lingering sensation of his breath on my neck, his fingers on my waist? If Edward had not shown up when he did…
But no. I would not allow myself to tarry on those thoughts. They were not worth clinging to. The ordeal was over, and I would press forward with more awareness next time I visited Margaret. Mr. Wilcot may not remember the interaction come tomorrow, given his state of drunkenness. How I wished I could be so fortunate.
The soft pounding of hooves against the ground drew my eyes open. My stomach sank to my toes before I realized it was Edward approaching the ruins, not Mr. Wilcot. I drew in a breath as he dismounted by the nearest tree and tethered his stallion to it. His hands worked with such haste that the movements were clumsy and his fingers fumbled in their efforts.
