Then she noticed the blood. “Oh, no. Please, no.”
There was an ugly, ragged gash between his right hoof and his knee joint, and even through the smears of dark blood, Iris could see the white of Chaos’s bone.
Panic slammed into her chest with such pitiless force it threatened to crush her flat to the ground. “Oh,please, no. Not this horse.”
“What’s the matter, you silly chit?” Lord Claire snapped. He was still mounted and looming over her, his horse prancing nervously. “You won, didn’t you?”
Tears burned Iris’s eyes, but she cradled Chaos’s leg injured leg in one hand and ran her fingers gently above and below the gash see if she could feel a break in the bone, her breath held, and broken pleas falling in whispers from her lips.
Please, please…
Chaos flinched, and Iris’s hand froze.
There, on the front of his leg, midway between his pastern and knee joint, where the leg should be straight, was an asymmetry in the cannon bone.
Iris’s heart gave a painful wrench and she stumbled back onto her heels, but even as despair gripped her, her mind was scrambling for a denial, a way to make it not be true.
It wasn’t a bad break, was it? No, no, it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t, because she wouldn’t let it be. It was a minor fracture only, and Captain West would fix it. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Chaos. He’d know what to do. He’d fix it, and Chaos would be fine, and all would be well…
Iris let her face fall into her hands as a deep, heaving sob wracked her chest.
I’m tearing apart…
“Iris!”
A feminine cry, high with panic, and then a deeper one—Captain West, or Lord Derrick—then the confusing sound of multiple hooves coming toward her at once, and the rattle of carriage wheels over the rutted field.
“My God, Iris.” Gentle hands reached for her, helped her to her feet, and then warm arms wrapped around her. “Iris, oh, thank goodness.” It was Violet’s voice, thick with tears. “When he struck Chaos, I was sure you’d fall. If you had, I can’t…I don’t want to think of it. Are you hurt?”
Iris couldn’t speak, but she shook her head, then buried her face in Violet’s soft shoulder.
Another set of thundering hooves approached. An ominous silence fell, then was broken by the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground as the rider dismounted.
Violet stiffened against her. “Oh, dear God.”
“Easy, Huntington.” It was Lord Derrick, his voice tight with warning.
Iris jerked her head up and gasped at the stark fury on Finn’s face as he advanced on Lord Claire.
Lord Claire paled. “Christ, Huntington. What’s the trouble? You can see she’s perfectly well, can’t you?”
Finn didn’t say a word, but prowled toward Lord Claire, his body taut with menace, and murder in his eyes.
Lord Claire gave his reins a desperate flick, but Finn got to him before he could flee and yanked the reins out of his hands.
“Now, Huntington. Be reasonable. You don’t wish to do anything you’ll regret—”
Lord Claire didn’t get any farther, because Finn seized him by the neck of his coat, jerked him from the saddle with a single powerful wrench, and threw him on his back onto the ground. Lord Claire tried to scramble upright, but Finn didn’t give him a chance to even twitch before he was over him, shoving his face into Lord Claire’s. “I should kill you.”
Captain West and Lord Derrick leapt down from their mounts and moved toward the two men on the ground, both of them tensed to haul Finn away if it proved necessary, but otherwise not interfering. Neither Lord Wrexley nor Lord Edgemont came forward to defend Claire, either, or even bothered to dismount, but watched the scene unfold from a safe distance.
“Julian?” Charlotte’s anxious gaze met her husband’s, but she fell silent when Captain West gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.
Finn twisted Lord Claire’s coat into a tight knot around his neck and kept twisting until Lord Claire’s eyes bulged with panic and his face turned a mottled red. “I could keep twisting, Claire, until the last miserable breath is choked from your body. It’s one way to be sure youneverendanger another rider again.”
A desperate gurgle bubbled from Lord Claire’s mouth. He clawed at Finn’s hands and kicked and writhed to be free, but he couldn’t tear himself loose from Finn’s grip.
Finn jerked Lord Claire’s head off the ground. “If she’d fallen—if she’d suffered so much as a single scratch—you’d be drawing your last breath right now.” He slammed Lord Claire’s head back to the ground and rose, his lip curling with disgust as the man rolled to his side, coughing and gasping for breath.
