"I will get you out of here."
"Promise?" Her eyes focused on his face for a fleeting moment, then fluttered shut again.
Careful not to jostle her, he passed his hands under her legs and supported her shoulders. She curled into his chest, cheek pressed against his shoulder, hand looped around his neck.
Pedro kicked the door to Erebus's stall. His horse nickered, stomping the hay.
"Parado," Pedro commanded.
The horse stood still, neck high. After taking his raincoat from the peg, Pedro helped her up. Even fighting dizziness, she held tight to the mane. After showing more bravery than he expected, she now wavered, and he took the reins, preparing to mount. A pitiful whine brought his eyes to the floor—the dog. He shouldn't bother with the nuisance.
With a heavy sigh, he bent and grabbed the basket's handle with his left hand. Dog collected, he mounted behind her.
A few more feet and they would be out in the open. He could use speed and the element of surprise to avoid pursuit. If Ulrich had a decent rifleman... They needed to race to the hill and gain the cover of pine trees, out of range.
Pedro touched his heels to the horse's flanks. Erebus had reached the patch of sunlight at the exit when a flash of black rushed from outside. The stallion reared. Pedro increased the pressure on his knees and inclined his torso forward, holding tight to both girl and dog to keep their balance. Erebus knocked the attacker's chest with the front hooves and crunched him below steel horseshoes.
With a lurch, Erebus galloped free.
The gravel pathway leading to the back of the property was empty. Pedro lowered his torso to the horse's neck. Shouting and bullets followed them on the elm-lined path, but soon faded. Atop the hill, Pedro glanced one last time at his property, his chest burning with the need for revenge.
Chapter 7
Gabrielpinnedthemedalsonto his officer's coat and combed his hair. The king's carriage would arrive this afternoon, and he still had to review the guard escorting the procession tomorrow. Dom Luis had high standards for the hussar's uniform, and Gabriel needed to ensure the officer's fastidiousness. It was tedious work, to be sure, and if it weren't for meeting Miss Anne Maxwell, his stay in the north would have proved utterly uneventful.
What a lovely girl. With her looks and prospects, she could have a successful season in Lisbon or Oporto, but she had relinquished her chances at a brilliant marriage to help her family. Gabriel sighed, his hand coming up to cover his medals. He knew the price of sacrifices intimately, and the choices that led him here were not so selfless as hers...
Gabriel forced his mind away from the past. Perhaps Anne Maxwell would be there. Of course, she would be. The whole gentry from Vila Nova to Regua would receive the monarch.
Where was his sword? A quick inspection of his belongings confirmed his suspicion. His sister had stolen it again.
Gabriel traveled the corridors of their rented residence, careful not to clank his spurs. Father had one of his sleepless nights wandering the garden, his hands clasped behind his back, an unlit pipe dangling from his lips. The cocks had started their cacophony when he retired. Would Father's sorrow of losing contact with Pedro, his precious godson, ever fade?
Gabriel hastened through the parlor door and emerged in the courtyard. The sun punched him in the face, and he blinked to adjust. Manuela hacked at a dummy with abandon, a few blows away from dislodging the damn thing from its post. Gabriel groaned. His saber's blade would be as dull as one of Santiago's sermons after Manu's abuse.
She riposted, hair flying in disarray, face sunburned and sweaty, her boy's clothes indecent. Madame Margot, the French governess, scrunched her snout as if she had smelled rotten eggs. No doubt he would receive her notice later. What was it? The third this year?
Gabriel placed himself in front of Manuela’s target. "Enough."
The girl blew hair from her face. "Go away, Gabriel."
With a sigh, he avoided a blow to the head and disarmed his wayward sister. "Sword fight? I preferred the actress phase. Your Viola was quite spirited."
"Leave off, saint." She whirled and was dashing off when he grabbed her arm.
"Don't call me that."
"Why? It's the truth." Her nostrils flared, her fair complexion turning an unbecoming shade of red.
Gabriel exhaled and cleaned a smudge from her cheek. "Why can't you behave like the other ladies your age?"
She glared and shrugged away from his touch. "So you can marry me off and be rid of me?"
"Of course not. I want your happiness. Father wants—"
"Father doesn't even know I exist."
Gabriel stared at her moist eyes. "You know he loves you. He is just—"
