The riotous noise of celebration dimmed to a shush, and the enormous crowd seemed to expand until he could see nothing else. There were so many people. Any sudden sound could spark a stampede, and his daughter might be trampled.
A second voice joined him, shouting Constance’s name as Olivia shoved closer. Some of the excited winners had realized the danger of the situation and were urging people to back away.
He spun his horse around, his heart in his throat, until at last, he spotted Constance lingering near the finish line next to Mr. Ringwell.
A sense of lightness passed over him so quickly that he was momentarily dizzy.
“That was too close for my comfort,” Olivia said. “I am not sure how she even dismounted on her own.” She tugged Constance’s horse forward. The mare stopped the moment Olivia gave her slack and then dropped her head to the ground, nostrils flaring.
“Stubborn beast,” she said. “Shall we reunite them?”
Constance laughed at something Mr. Ringwell had said, completely unaware of the chaos she had caused by disappearing.
“Not that I am complaining,” Thel said. “But shouldn’t she be congratulating the winner?”
Olivia clucked her tongue. “You have much to learn about women, my lord.”
As they approached, a horse in the middle of the chaos bucked, starting a chain reaction that rippled through the crowd. Thel stayed astride, but Olivia had to drop the reins to Constance’s horse to avoid falling, and in the process, the horse bucked free and charged toward Constance.
He shouted his daughter’s name, but she remained frozen, like a deer staring down the barrel of a musket.
He was too far away to reach her in time. Unless the horse veered away, she would be trampled. The scenario unfolded in his mind. He would race toward her, scramble from his horse, and bundle her body in his arms. She would slip through his fingers the same way Marguerite had, and he would be alone again.
Then Mr. Ringwell tackled Constance, and they rolled out of the path of the stampeding animal.
Thel dismounted with such haste that he nearly got caught in his stirrup. He shook his foot free and stumbled across the grass, his heart thundering, then fell to his knees beside his daughter.
Mr. Ringwell clutched Constance to his chest as she stared, unseeing, over his shoulder.
“That was too close,” Olivia said from behind him.
Thel cupped his daughter’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Father?” She pulled away from Mr. Ringwell and looked around. “Where’s John?”
He wanted to hug her and strangle her at the same time. “You nearly got yourself killed, and that’s all you say? It wasn’t Mr. Dawson who saved you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “He didn’t? He didn’t even try?” Then she tucked her head into Mr. Ringwell’s shoulder with a sob.
“This is my fault,” Mr. Ringwell said, his face grave. He met Thel’s gaze squarely. “I should not have challenged Mr. Dawson.”
That Mr. Ringwell was right did not blunt the bone-deep feeling that Thel had failed to protect his daughter. She’d barely been able to control her horse, and the animal had shown signs of bolting at the beginning of the race, but he’d pushed his concerns away in the hope that watching Mr. Ringwell win would tip Constance’s favor in his direction.
“She’s had a shock,” Olivia said as she crouched beside him. “We should return her to her room before we attract any more attention.”
He reluctantly rose to his feet and allowed Mr. Ringwell to guide Constance back to her horse. She refused to mount but accepted the mare’s reins and walked alongside her. Then the sound of a horse galloping had them all turning to see Dawson racing toward them.
“Constance!” Dawson cried. He pulled up his horse, hastily dismounted, then ran toward them, alarm written across his features.
“I’ve got her,” Mr. Ringwell said, holding out a hand as if to ward Dawson off.
“Nonsense,” Dawson said. He shoved past Mr. Ringwell and reached for Constance, but she flinched.
Dawson dropped his arms and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“I-I have to go home,” Constance said. She stepped closer to Mr. Ringwell, who crossed his arms and pressed his lips into a thin line. Thel suspected it would not take much for Mr. Ringwell to escalate to violence.
“But…” Dawson looked at Mr. Ringwell, seemed to freeze in place for a moment, then shook his head. “Fine. Do as you wish.” He spun on his heel and walked back to his mount without a single glance back.
