Page 33 of Her Wily Duke

“I honestly don’t know what he might do now – my brother is certainly not the man he was, even a few years ago. But it’s his life, his choices – I’ve tried to help him, and been rejected at every turn – I have to let him make his own mistakes – he’s left me no other choice.”

Wiggins nodded, rather sadly.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Because it was a new moon, and because heavy clouds blotted out the starlight, the world beyond the front portico was a near impenetrable wall of inky blackness. The servants strained their eyes to see through it, but could only make things out dimly - the rustling and swaying of the large oaks, the rapid movement of a groom who had crept outside hoping to find out where his master had gone.

Then, after a few minutes, they heard an alarming sound — the doors of the stables beside the house creaking open, then banging back hard against the wall as the wind caught them. They banged again a few times, and Adam looked at the others. Surely Frederick didn’t actually mean to ride in this?

“Is that just the wind?” said Walham.

“It’s Frederick!” said Wiggins.

“It can’t be, surely…”

Ignoring Adam’s words, Wiggins flew out of the door and down the steps running towards the stables, but it was too late. A solitary figure rode past at some speed, his outline just visible in the dim lamplight.

“He can’t possibly be thinking to take on the Masked Rider,” said Walham. “He can barely keep himself in the saddle – the wind is already blowing him about, and the horse will be skittish in this weather – it’s ramping up to be a storm.”

“He’s never been a good rider,” said Caroline, beginning to weep - for she truly did love her brother, or at least the brother he had been before the last few years. “If he’s not careful—”

Adam looked at her, knowing the truth of her words.

“We’ll just have to trust that the horse has some sense of self preservation.”

They watched as Frederick disappeared into the woodland beyond the gardens, the dark brown horse fading into the night down a narrow twisting forest trail. Above them, ominous thunder rolled, and everyone started.

The sound brought Adam to his senses, and he turned to a footman.

“Go to the stables, and rouse the head groom, get him to saddle up a horse for me, and one for himself – I’ve no choice but to go after the Duke – this storm changes everything.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The man rushed away, and Adam sent Walham for his greatcoat, glad, in that moment, that he had not changed from the practical outdoor clothes he had been wearing earlier in the day. Walham returned with the coat just as the head groom rode around to the front, leading Adam’s horse – his favourite chestnut mare, Adam was pleased to see.

Caroline stood on the steps with Wiggins, twisting her hands together, as the second of her brothers rode off into the storm, chasing the first. She would not think about what might happen, or she would not cope at all.

*****

Emme curled up on the couch near the fire in the parlour, with a book in her hands. She wasn’t, however, reading. Instead, she was thinking – reliving the wonderful moments of the day, and wondering what Adam had decided about telling the Duke. If she were to admit the truth to herself, she would have to say that she was afraid of how the Duke would react, and what he might try to do. After the incident some weeks ago, where Adam had barely saved her, she no longer trusted the Duke at all.

Then, just as she tried, for the third time, to read the same page, there was a loud boom of thunder, and the already rushing wind sounded louder, and with the first drops of rain in it. She startled at the thunder, dropping the book, then looked at her father, embarrassed, before picking it up again.

“I’m very glad that we’re inside in the warmth. It’s not a night I’d want to be out.”

Her father nodded.

“Indeed, let’s hope that no one is out in this.”

*****

Adam set a solid pace through the trees, his head groom following him. He knew this trail well, and had ridden it at night many times – albeit not usually on this particular horse. He was also certain that Frederick had hardly ever ridden this way – not since they were young boys.

Around them, the branches of the trees whipped about in the wind, which was blowing harder every minute, and rain began to fall, blown along by the wind in stinging lines which penetrated even the trees around them. He could not yet see Frederick, but this was the trail he had seen his brother go into, so he had to trust that this was the right direction to seek him.

They rode on for some minutes as the storm worsened, and the tree branches began to shatter at times in the force of the wind, some falling to the path with a loud crack, others dangling, broken, and still barely connected to the tree, flailing dangerously in the wind. Adam was more and more worried – no matter how much he hated what his brother had done, what he had become as a man, he was still his brother, and the risk to life and limb of being out in this was very clear.

Then, as they rounded a corner and came to a small clearing, lightning flashed in the sky above, and illuminated a scene out of a horror story. Adam perceived it as if it was all happening far more slowly than it was – Frederick was more than half way across the clearing, fighting with the horse he was barely in control of, as it leapt forward in fear as a response to the crack of thunder and the lightning. Past him, at the point where the trail again went in amongst the trees, the lightning struck a treetop, and a large branch splintered, pieces falling, other pieces dangling, tangled on lower branches, so that suddenly the entry to the trail was a portal filled with sharp pointed stakes.