Dorian took a step closer to her, hoping she would not retreat into herself once again. “I am not asking you because it is somehow convenient for me to do so. I am telling you he is becoming unmanageable.”
“And I am telling you I will not be part of your racing problems,” Lady Anne insisted.
“You are the only reason he calms down.”
“Then you should ask yourself why that is,” she sniped.
Before anything else could be said, a shout came from outside. Dorian went to the window to see none other than Diamond running across the open fields while being chased down by several servants. Lady Anne joined him, but only for a moment before she ran out of the room. Dorian followed her without hesitation.
Outside, the yard had already given way to chaos. Diamond was visible across the open fields, black against the pale grass and running without direction. Two stablehands were still shouting after him, but the distance was widening too quickly for it to matter.
Lady Anne, however, did not call out. She simply moved toward him.
Dorian caught up to her as they crossed the yard.
“He will not stop for you at this distance,” he said sharply.
“He will,” Lady Anne replied without slowing down.
They reached the open fields where the land began to fall away toward the cliffs. The wind was stronger there, and the horse’s panic grew as the terrain changed.
“Lady Anne,” Dorian said, his voice tighter, “if he reaches the edge?—”
“He will not,” Lady Anne assured him.
Then she stepped forward.
Dorian stopped. He watched her cross the distance without hesitation, moving into the space between the horse and the cliff as though the risk itself was non-existent.
Diamond turned sharply, his hooves striking the uneven ground, his eyes once again wide with fear.
Lady Anne stopped a short distance away and spoke softly, “Easy.”
The horse hesitated. The panic did not vanish, but it fractured, losing its momentum.
Lady Anne moved closer and raised her hand. When she touched his neck, the change was immediate. At once, there was recognition. Diamond lowered his head slightly, his breath still uneven but no longer ragged, and the fight in him loosened before giving way.
Dorian did not move. He did not speak. He simply watched.
As he did, something that had been forming since the first time he had met Lady Anne settled into place. The horse did not simply respond to her; it belonged with her in a way he had never seen in his life.
And he had separated them.
Lady Anne kept her hand on Diamond a moment longer before turning her head. Her eyes met Dorian’s across the field, and he did not look away. The thought had already formed fully, with no hesitation left in it.
He did not simply need her help. He needed her at Ashford Hall.
For the first time ever, that idea no longer felt like a walk to the gallows.
Not for him, at least.
CHAPTER 3
That evening, Rosemere House was quieter than usual, though Anne could not have said whether it was the house itself or the way she moved through it.
She stood at her bedroom window long after the dark had settled, her hands loosely clasped in front of her and her eyes fixed on nothing in particular.
The day weighed more heavily on her than she wanted to admit, not simply because Tempest had been removed from her life, but because the encounter at Ashford Hall refused to leave her thoughts.
