Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eli, innkeeper’s son,had grown up around horses and knew enough to be painfully aware of the dangers in riding cross-country at night. He set an easy pace across the meadow that fronted the road behind the inn, but feared the terrain would be hillier and less easy as they went. As to the night, the quarter moon helped, but clouds glided over it periodically.
Fanny lagged behind.
“Are you managing?” he called to her.
“Well enough,” she replied. He didn’t like the sound of her voice.
He slowed his mount and came up alongside. “Tell me the truth. Have you ridden before?”
“Yes,” she said, a tremor in her voice. “Just not like this. Not in the dark.”
He cursed under his breath.
“I’m sorry, Eli. It is our only choice. I’ll manage.”
“You’re a brave one, Fanny, but we can’t take unnecessary chances. I would hold your reins, but it is safer if you keep them and stay beside me. You hang on. We won’t be galloping neck or nothing. At least we won’t unless we have to.”
They passed a sheepfold and skirted a fenced field, keeping to slim lanes where they could. When they came to a dense wood, Eli paused. His sense of direction told him the surest line to Ashmead lay directly through, but hazards to horses and riders would abound in the wood, where moonlight would be of no help. A narrow track followed the edge of the tree line. He turned them left, which he presumed to be due west, and they rode for another hour along the dirt trail following the edge of the wood.
Sometime after midnight, still following the tree line, Fanny swayed slightly in the saddle.
“Fanny!” Eli hissed, coming to a stop. When he reached out an arm to steady her, both horses sidled uneasily.
She grabbed the pommel in a fierce grip and pulled herself up. “I can manage! I—”
Eli dismounted, went around to her side, and held up his arms. “Come down, Fanny. That’s enough.”
“No, we need to go on. We have to get to Clarion Hall. We—” Her voice cracked.
Eli took her by the waist and pulled her down into his arms. Her trembling vibrated through him, and for a moment, he thought she might fall to pieces, but this was his brave Fanny. She took a shaky breath and lifted her head. It was almost more than he could bear.
Before he could lean down for the all-consuming kiss his whole being yearned for, she pulled away. “I can stand. I’ll man—”
Eli caught her as her legs went out from under her, and she sank toward the ground. “Managing, are we?” He cradled her close, and she snuggled her face against the folds of his cravat.
“I’m sorry Eli,” she whispered.
He kissed the words away then, a gentle and respectful salute meant to reassure. “No need for that. You’ve been brilliant,” he murmured against her lips.
They’d been riding for hours, and Eli’s legs ached from controlling the bandit’s skittery horse. He shuddered to think how she felt. He let her slide down to her feet, but they stood like that, Fanny wrapped in Eli’s arms, her head nestled against him, for several long moments while their mounts stood patiently by, cropping the grass in the dark.
Her hand came up against his chest, and she pushed back. “I can stand. I need…” She glanced toward the woods.
Eli took her hands.She needs to relieve herself.He cleared his throat. “Don’t go too far, and step carefully.” He waited while she walked into the woods, listened to her rustling the underbrush, and cringed when he heard a loud squeal. Alarm shot through him.
“Fanny!” he shouted.
A creature of the night, disturbed by her movement or his shout, shot from the woods, spooking the horse Eli had been riding; it recoiled, spun, and ran off into the night. Goodfellow’s better-trained mount shied briefly but held his ground, ears alert, and pawed nervously. Eli grabbed the reins of Goodfellow’s horse, running his hand down its neck and speaking soothingly.
Fanny ran up, breathless. “What was that?”
“A roe deer, I suspect. I didn’t get a good look. What happened?” Eli asked.
“The brush is thick. I scratched my…self. Where’s the other horse?” she asked.
“Terrified. He bolted, probably running home. Thank God one of them has a valiant heart,” Eli said, still soothing their remaining horse. He looped the reins loosely over a low branch.
