“I’m afraid not. I’m not very good at this.”
“Ochs, you only need practice. Riding is really quite enjoyable once you’ve mastered it.” Faith doubted it and grimaced, but Jeanne only laughed at her expression. “Very well. Graham is going to take Hope and Grace the long way down, over the other side of the ridge and back around. But you and Ican go this way,” she said, nodding to the west. “We should be able to come down around Harris House, to the main road.”
Faith knew that Harris House belonged to Logan, and she did not wish to see him. But the steepness of their current path was too much for her, and she gave Jeanne a stiff nod.
“Very well.”
Jeanne called out to Graham and told him their intended path. He appeared somewhat apprehensive, but Jeanne’s skill as a horsewoman was without question, and eventually he waved his hand with a nod.
Jeanne cut in front of Faith’s horse, and they steadily declined down the ridge. Though the morning sky promised a clear day, Faith could see far beyond the mountains. Dark clouds were rolling and billowing toward them.
Would there ever be any pleasant weather in this place?
After a half hour of silently steering their horses down the slope, grassy fields opened up before them. Faith continued on the well-worn path until she suddenly noticed Jeanne had stopped. Pulling her reins back, Faith followed her gaze to a little stone house built at the base of a mountain far in the distance.
It looked uninhabited, and Faith wasn’t sure what was so fascinating about it.
“What is it?” she asked after a moment, coming up to Jeanne’s side.
“Hm? Oh, ’tis nothing,” Jeanne said, though a pained expression could be seen plainly across her face.
Faith frowned.
“Are you sure? You seem rather sad.”
Jeanne’s horse shook its mane, stepping sideways, but she kept her eyes on the tiny cottage.
“It’s just… I used to come here. A long time ago, with my Duncan.”
Faith glanced back at the pile of rubble. She had heard only snippets about Duncan Carlyle, a man who had supposedly been the heart of his friends and family, though he was rarely spoken about. He had died in the Second Burmese War some five years earlier. Faith presumed it was too painful for most to talk about him, particularly Jeanne, who had married him just before he left for his campaign.
Unsure of how to be a comfort, Faith said the only thing that came to her mind.
“It must be difficult,” she began awkwardly. “To go on without him.”
Jeanne nodded slowly before glancing at her.
“Aye, it is. It’s been five years now and I’ve managed quite well. But, sometimes,” she paused, looking back at the structure. “Sometimes, it’s as if no time has passed. It’s as if he never left.”
Faith wasn’t sure what she meant, but she had never had a husband pass away. A loud rumble from above jostled them from their thoughts, and Jeanne took a deep breath.
“Come. The storm won’t wait for us.”
Faith was sure that Jeanne could outrun the storm alone, but she was not so talented a horsewoman and kept her mare going only at a trot. When the thunder boomed again, the skies opened up, and cold, unforgiving rain beat down on them, pelting them like tiny stones.
For the second day in a row, Faith was soaked to the bone in a matter of minutes. It might not have been all that terrible if the wind were not so brutal. It whipped around them as the rain turned to icy pellets. Even though it was midday, the world around them had been covered in sheets of gray rain, and soon Faith was shaking to keep warm.
“There!” Jeanne shouted after a while, pointing to a vague group of yellow lights. “We can take shelter and try and wait the storm out!”
Grateful for any chance to get off her horse, Faith followed Jeanne as fast as she could. As they rode closer to the lights, Faith realized that it was a house. A rather grand house made of red granite. It looked like some sort of Gothic castle, with turrets and parapets, though the entire structure seemed far more modern than an ancient stronghold.
They rode straight up to the front steps. The front doors opened immediately, and two servants in oversized brown overcoats came hurrying out, helping them down, one taking the horses as the other escorted them inside.
Once the doors had closed behind them, Faith could barely contain her shivering.
“Tell Sir Logan that we are here,” Jeanne said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but Sir Logan in not in. Miss Harris is in the drawing room, however, with Mr. Harris.”
