Dawn had barely broken over the horizon when she marched down to the stables to ask for a mount. Rhys was nowhere to be seen—and for that, for once, she was grateful. She didn’t want anyone to know where she was going today. She wanted privacy and the chance to think about everything without interruption.
She asked for Alabaster. The steed would be the perfect horse to ride far and fast across the estate. To take her away from the niceties and the pleasantries and all the fake platitudes she was so sick of.
When Henry, the groomsman, brought Alabaster around, he said, “Are ye certain ye don’t want an escort, me lady? Seems ta me Lord Clayton and Mr. Hereford won’t like it if I let ye go alone.”
“I’m certain, Henry. And if anyone comes looking for me, please tell them I insisted upon being alone. I’ll be back late this afternoon.”
Henry nodded, but his eyes were filled with doubt. “I’ll tell ‘em, me lady. But ye may want ta make it a shorter ride. It smells like rain in the air. If a storm’s a brewin’, ye won’t want ta be caught out in it.”
“You let me worry about that, Henry. Thank you for your help.” She tossed him a coin, spun the horse around, and took off at a gallop.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Later that morning, Rhys was mucking a stall when a commotion near the front of the stables caught his attention. A lady’s voice was raised, and a small group of stablehands were gathered around her. It sounded as if they were attempting to calm her down.
At first Rhys wondered if it was Julianna. She seemed to be the most frequent lady visitor to the stables lately. But the longer he listened, the more he realized it was an older woman speaking. He recognized the voice, too, but he couldn’t quite place it.
Rhys set down his brush and left the stall, dusting off his hands as he went. When he rounded the corner, it was just as he suspected. Three of the groomsmen and Mr. Hereford were gathered around a woman who was nearly hysterical.
“Don’t worry, me lady,” Henry was saying. “I’m certain she’ll be back any moment now.”
The woman to whom they were speaking was considerably shorter than the rest of them and Rhys had to wait for the circle of men to shift before he saw that the woman was…the Duchess of Montlake. Julianna’s mother.
Rhys quickly ducked into the nearest empty stall to keep listening while ensuring that the duchess didn’t see him. She might well recognize him, even though he was dressed in a white shirt and plain cloth breeches.
“Where did she go?” Lady Montlake nearly shouted.
“I don’t know,” Henry replied. “She just asked for a mount. She insisted upon going alone.”
“And you let her, you fool?” Lady Montlake sounded as if she was about to cry.
Rhys narrowed his eyes on the scene. There were two possibilities. Either Lady Mary had arrived and asked to take Whisper out on a trot around the paddock, and the horse had got away from her (which seemed unlikely) or…
“I brought her Alabaster and she took off right quick,” Henry continued.
Or Lady Julianna had come for a mount and left, and now her mother was worried because a nasty-looking storm was brewing. The sky had turned an ominous shade of dark gray, bordering upon black, and the wind had whipped up enough to knock over some small tables in the paddock.
Based on Henry’s last words, Rhys knew the latter had happened.
“We’ll send a party out ta look fer ‘er,” Mr. Hereford was saying. He began shouting orders to groomsmen and stablehands to mount up.
Rhys didn’t wait to hear more. He’d already gone in search of the second fastest mount in the barn. Clayton’s second Arabian, Midnight.
He had the horse saddled and was flying out the back doors of the stables by the time they’d finally convinced Lady Montlake to calm down and allow them to search for her daughter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
She wasn’t at the pond. She wasn’t at the lake. She wasn’t even on the hillside by the paddock, and he’d already scoured every part of the stables and barns for her. No, Julianna had taken off somewhere on Alabaster, and he needed to find her before this storm broke.
Acting on instinct, he turned from the lake and spurred his mount in the direction of the far end of the property, just as fat raindrops began to splash his hat and shoulders. He had to find her quickly.
By the time Rhys made it around the copse of trees near the edge of the forest and pulled Midnight up short, the rain was lashing him in wave after wave. The black skies had opened, and a deluge had begun.
He could barely see the outline of the gamekeeper’s cottage through the cloud of rain. When he got close enough to make out the front door, he could also see that the door to the small barn next to the cottage was slightly ajar.
He rode Midnight up to the barn, jumped down, and pulled open the door. He quickly led the horse inside. Despite it being mid-morning, the barn was nearly dark. Flashes of lightning were his only light.
Rhys expelled his pent-up breath. There, in one of only two small stalls, was Alabaster, his saddle and blanket removed, busily chomping on fresh hay.
