Chapter Five
Jenny’s mount followedafter William’s along the bridle path. They rode alone, because poor Ben’s leg had not yet healed enough to allow him to ride, and Jem was out with the guests who’d wished to see more of the estate. It was simply glorious to be on horseback again. Her horse, an elegant bay mare called Rose, was well behaved, and the duke’s woodland quite splendid. The dappled light filtered down through the canopy of leafy branches and cast patterns over the trunks of the trees.
The sense of freedom Jenny had never expected to experience again was bittersweet; she feared it would break her heart to give it up. But she didn’t fool herself into believing this arrangement would last forever. She’d been astonished when the duke suggested she accompany William and terribly pleased that he’d come to trust her.
Really, she should not be so keen to impress the man. But when his blue eyes met hers, every nerve ending in her body seemed to stir. She must not forget that he could dismiss her with a snap of his fingers if she did something he disapproved of. Jenny feared she might because she intended to continue to stand up for the children.
She’d begun to suspect that her initial judgment of the duke had been unfair. He did not appear to be the aloof, indifferent man she’d painted him. He treated his servants well, greeting them kindly as they waited to receive him when he first arrived. They in turn were steadfastly loyal, for not a word had she heard said against him. Certainly, no one could find fault with the fact that he had served England’s interests, and indeed the world’s. But his work left only a small corner of his life to spare for the children, and as she’d learned that his father was also politically inclined, His Grace probably suffered the same lonely childhood as William.
The mare picked her way around a ditch filled with rainwater as the familiar smells of cold wet earth, fungi, and the glorious autumn foliage, filled Jenny’s senses.
Too impatient to walk his horse, William had suggested they race to the river, but Jenny sternly insisted he keep to a trot until they reached clearer ground. He’d reluctantly agreed, but still managed to move ahead out of sight.
The peaceful woodland sounds of twittering birds, chattering squirrels, and the breeze murmuring through the trees, was suddenly shattered by the crack of a gunshot, followed by William’s cry. Startled, Jenny jumped and jarred her neck painfully as the mare bolted. Birds rocketed overhead. With a twist of fear, her years of riding came to the fore. Jenny settled the mare into a canter over ground strewn with piles of wet leaves, loose rocks, and treacherous hidden potholes. She vaulted the horse over a fallen log, as she yelled for William, somewhere ahead.
At last, she burst out into open space where the river meandered through a wide expanse of meadow. William sat hunched on the ground.
“William!” Jenny slithered awkwardly down and fell to her knees beside him.
He gazed up at her white faced. “I’m all right, Miss Harrismith.”
She almost choked on a gasp of thankfulness. “You’re not hurt?”
He shook his head.
“I heard a gunshot. It sounded awfully close,” she said.
He pointed behind him. “The shot struck that tree over there.”
Quickly on her feet, she ran over to the towering ash. A small section of bark was shredded. She gasped and put a hand over her pounding heart as she peered into the dense woodland listening for the approach of the shooter. No one emerged to apologize and inquire if they’d been hurt. She hurried back to him. “It must have passed very close to you.”
William climbed shakily to his feet. “I’d just dismounted and bent to pick up a stone to toss into the water when it happened,” he said, his voice wobbling. “I decided to keep low in case another shot was fired.”
She wanted to hug him, but the boy was already terrified, so she fought to stay calm. “It must be someone hunting.” But who would shoot so close to the bridle path?
As she spoke, another gunshot rent the air. Upriver, a bird fell from the sky. “I didn’t know the gamekeeper was out with his gun. We should have been told. How dreadfully careless.” She scowled as she turned to him. “If I’d known this would happen today, I would not have allowed you to ride. It’s not safe here. We must go home.”
William straightened up. “It was just an accident, Miss Harrismith. Sometimes shots can go wild. Perhaps whoever it was stumbled when they fired.” He sounded surprisingly grown-up and quite an authority as he walked over to her horse. “I’ll help you mount.”
“Thank you, Lord William,” she said, aware the boy attempted to hide his fear. What a fine duke he would be one day! With the aid of a nearby rock for her to stand on, William lent his arm to assist her onto the sidesaddle. She arranged her skirts, her eyes roaming the trees crowding around them.
William was up on his horse’s saddle in a trice and they rode back to the stables. This time, she permitted a canter and followed hard behind him. Her heart still raced, and her gaze continued to rake the woods for any sign of activity, hushed now as if all manner of wildlife had retreated.
Who fired the shot? She’d never met Clovis, but the gamekeeper had been here for years and would know better than to risk the safety of the duke’s family and guests.
When they reached the stables, Jenny asked the groom if he’d seen Clovis, or if any guests intended to hunt that morning.
“No, miss, haven’t seen him around today,” Jem said. “It’s doubtful anyone’s taken a gun out. Not with a shooting party planned.”
Disquieted, Jenny returned to the schoolroom with William where Barbara waited with the maid.
“Where is Nanny Evans, Mary?”
“She said she needed to lie down, Miss Harrismith.”
“Oh. Is she ill?”
“She didn’t say.”
