Page 97 of The Work of Art

“Then I’ll come back to the house with you.”

“No. Don’t suspend your pleasure on my account. Stay. Have your ride on Persephone. I’ll see you at luncheon.”

She watched him walk away, her heart heavy. He was terribly upset. The sight of Hyperion under saddle had wrenched him into the past, and his inability to control the great beast had been a brutal reminder of his own limitations.

“Do ye want your mare, ma’am?” Thomas asked.

“What? Oh, yes. Well…” Philly looked out into the distance. The fog was still very thick. She couldn’t see how far Hyperion had gone.

Arthur had pretended it didn’t matter, but she knew better.

It wasn’t safe for Hyperion to run loose with his reins hanging down about his legs. He might trip on them, or catch them in a branch and injure himself trying to break free. Had Arthur not been so angry, he’d have realized this. Indeed, he’d have ordered Thomas, or one of the other grooms, to chase after the disobedient equine.

Philly had no doubt that, when Arthur was a bit calmer, he’d come to regret his neglect. What if, by then, it was too late? What if Hyperion had torn his mouth or lamed himself—or worse? She couldn’t allow it to happen. Not only because of her fondness for the horse, but because of her love for her husband. She wouldn’t permit anything else to upset Arthur today.

“Thomas,” she said, “if you’ll wait with Persephone, I shall be right back.”

Thomas gave an awkward bow and ducked into the stables.

Philly had expected an argument from the boy and was pleasantly surprised by his ready compliance. She whistled to her dogs. In all likelihood, Hyperion had stopped as soon as he reached the first tempting clump of grass outside the gates. If he’d gone a little farther, her dogs would help to discover him. If she knew anything about horses, he’d be calmer after his outburst, and she’d have no difficulty in taking him firmly by the reins, and leading him back to the stable. It was the least she could do to set Arthur’s mind at ease.

Of course, he wouldn’t be pleased that she’d ventured out onto the grounds alone. And she did hate to disobey him. Someone was up to mischief on the estate. Someone dangerous, if the snare on the riding path was any indication. Arthur wouldn’t thank her for putting herself at risk.

But it was only just a step outside of the gate. And her dogs were with her, after all.

She started out at a brisk pace, Basil close at her side. Fox, Jasper, and Dash ran ahead. The stable yard was quiet. Thomas remained inside the stable with Persephone. None of the other grooms were about. There was no one at all to witness Philly leaving the grounds of Heywood House. No one at all to watch as she stepped into the fog with her four dogs.

And disappeared.

Arthur’s temper had been building for days. It was a culmination of frustration over his lack of progress with shooting, walking, and riding. He’d foolishly begun to allow himself a modicum of hope, daring to believe that if he worked hard enough at it, he’d regain some approximation of his former proficiency. But he’d recently come to the bitter realization that whatever improvements he’d made since marrying Philly had reached their limit.

He was getting no better.

That was no excuse to have behaved like a sullen child in front of his wife. He should have stayed with her. Gone riding with her. It was one of the things she loved most, and he’d been too consumed with his own bitterness to give it to her.

She’d been right about Hyperion. Most riders couldn’t handle such a foul-tempered beast. That he’d been skilled enough to do so once was a miracle all on its own. That he could do so no longer shouldn’t have upset him.

He resolved to apologize to Philly the moment she returned from her ride.

The papers across his desk required little of his attention, but Arthur immersed himself in them nonetheless. The bracket clock on the mantle said it was half eight. Philly’s ride should have been completed an hour ago, yet none of the servants had come to inform him that she’d returned to the house.

Perhaps she’d slipped past them and gone straight to her room to have her bath? Or perhaps she was still at the stable? She often lingered there after their rides, fussing over the horses and handing out treats.

He made an effort to quell the first stirrings of unease. She was safe in the stable yard. No harm would come to her there. Besides, she was probably enjoying her time away from him. And who could blame her? His dark moods would try the patience of a saint.

No. He wasn’t going to allow himself to hover over Philly night and day, no matter how much he might want to. And he certainly wasn’t going to go outside and fetch her back into the house like some overbearing, tyrannical husband.

Not yet, anyway.

A brisk knock at the library door interrupted his thoughts. He looked up from his desk to see Crofton entering with Greene close behind him. Fox, Jasper, and Dash ran ahead into the room. They came to Arthur directly, leaping and barking for his attention.

Crofton cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon, Captain Heywood. The head groom has informed me—”

Greene shouldered past the long-winded butler. “Did Mrs. Heywood not come back with you, sir?”

Arthur rose from behind his desk. The dogs continued to bark, but he didn’t heed them. His every attention was trained on Greene. “No. She stayed at the stable to ride.”

“Thomas tells me Mrs. Heywood didn’t ride. Said she told him she’d be back shortly. But she didn’t come back, sir.” Greene leaned toward the open door. “Thomas!”