She laughed aloud, wild and breathless.
They cleared the bridge and veered sharply as they hit the northern edge of the lake. The ground grew soft and springy,dew flung from their mounts’ legs, reeds whipping at their boots. The lake glimmered in the half-light, and ducks scattered in protest, beating their wings furiously as the horses thundered past.
Deverell’s stallion pulled alongside hers then, dark and gleaming, and for one heart-pounding moment they were neck and neck.
“You are cutting the turn too wide!” he shouted over the rush of wind.
“I favour drama!” she cried back, barely turning her head.
“You’ll favour a tumble into the lake next!”
She rose slightly in the stirrups. “Worried for my safety, Deverell?”
“Worried I shall have to fish you out!” His grin, dimpled and reckless, flashed beside her.
They were flying now, and the chapel ruins rose ahead. Lottie veered to the left as they approached a fallen arch, and the gelding leapt over it clean.
“Ha!” she cried, half triumphant, half wild.
Deverell took the long way around. “Show-off!”
“Coward!”
They burst past the ruined wall at the same moment, side by side again.
The old hunter’s lodge came into view, and atop it, the weathercock spun lazily. Lottie urged the gelding on with a low whisper and a nudge of her heel. He answered her with a surge of strength that nearly unseated her, and they tore across the final stretch. Deverell was still beside her, barely a length behind… but barely was not ahead.
They thundered into the clearing, both horses skidding as their riders pulled hard on the reins.
Lottie flung herself from the saddle before the horse had fully halted, landing hard in her boots. For a moment it was nothingbut chaos and cold, and then she was running, skirts hiked, boots flying over uneven ground.
Deverell was half a second behind, dismounting with a curse and giving chase. He was faster than she expected.
He was next to her already, and so, with a wicked grin, she veered sideways, slamming her shoulder into his ribs.
He staggered with a laugh, slipped in the mud, and went down hard.
Lottie shrieked with laughter as she dashed the rest of the way to the lodge.
“That is cheating!” Deverell called as he righted himself and scrambled to catch up.
“There were no rules!”she sang out.
Lottie hit the base of the lodge wall, scrabbling for purchase until her fingers closed around a rusted iron trellis, half-collapsed and clinging to the side of the building. Perfect.
She hauled herself up with a grunt, skirts bunched and boots slipping, the cold biting through her gloves as rust flaked beneath her grip.
“Bloody hell—”
“Language, Mr Deverell!”
“Oh, I’ll show you bloody language—”
“Save it for the roof!”
He reached the trellis a moment later, boots knocking mud from the wall, and they climbed together, laughing, panting, and swearing.
Lottie was nearly there now, the weathercock above them spinning gently in the morning breeze, just out of reach. She gritted her teeth and hauled herself upwards.
