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“You see what I mean, my lord?” said Amelia, turning to Withington with a laugh. “She truly believes she’s going to convince a horse to behave itself by giving it a stern scolding.” Her voice sank lower, low enough to keep Papa from hearing—but not her. “Thanks to the influence those Gypsies had on her as a child, she actually believes that she can speak to horses and bend them to her will. She cannot seem to separate fantasy from reality. Poor thing. I think her mind was addled by our mother’s death.”
Victoria felt her cheeks grow hot as she glanced at Cavendish and saw his brows lower in disapproval.
“Your sister is right, Victoria,” said Papa, oblivious to the undercurrents in the room. “Unlike you, she has enough sense to treat a horse as a beast rather than as a person. You see that monster of yours doesn’t try to take anyone’s fingers off again or I’ll have him sold for shoe leather.”
“Yes, Papa,” she answered meekly, though her heart burned with horrified outrage. Shoe leather! She’d spirit Primero away in the night and join the Romani before allowing that to happen.
Her father drew himself up. “Now, if you will all be kind enough to excuse me, there are matters which require my attention.”
“I’m afraid I must also take my leave,” said Cavendish. Turning to Amelia, he bowed. “Until next we meet, my lady.”
Taking his cue from Cavendish, Withington turned to Victoria as well. “I, too, must leave, my lady.”
Victoria fumed as a smug smile crept across Amelia’s lips, and she knew her sister thought she’d succeeded in driving him away with her insinuation of mental infirmity. “So soon, my lord?” she asked wistfully.
“I would remain and worship at your feet forever, were it permitted, but duty demands me elsewhere.” He flinched a little as Cavendish coughed. “However, I do hope it shan’t be too long before I see you again.”
“I shall look forward to your next visit as well, my lord,” she said, offering him her hand. Out of desperation, she lifted it a bit as he kissed the back of it, so that he did so rather more firmly than was considered acceptable. She saw her sister’s lips tighten. Good! First the rose and now this. That should be enough to inspire Amelia to larceny—provided either gentleman ever returned.
The moment their guests departed, Victoria went to her room and shut the door, throwing the bolt. When a soft knock sounded, she ignored it with no small amount of satisfaction. After a moment, the knocking ceased and she was left in peace to brood over the day’s events.
Could things get any worse? Thanks to Withington, she now appeared a complete wanton, and her sister had just insinuated that she was unhinged. Would Cavendish ever come back?
The air in the room was stuffy, and she felt as though everything were closing in on her. She had t
o get out. Right now. Besides, she needed to have a chat with Primero after his naughty behavior.
Extricating herself from her gown, she changed into her riding clothes. Her shirt was getting rather tatty. She’d need a new one soon. The breeches still had a lot of wear in them, though, and her boots were decent, at least.
One day, she would order a set of beautiful new riding clothes tailored to her specifications—including breeches—and be damned anyone who disapproved. Plucking out her hairpins, she plaited her inky tresses into a long, loose braid down her back, her nimble fingers working quickly.
Without so much as a glance in the mirror, she took herself to the window. Checking first to be certain no one was about, she climbed over the sill and stepped out across the divide and onto a sturdy branch. Shimmying down the hand- and footholds she’d carved into the giant oak’s trunk as a child, she dropped to the ground and made for the stables.
Slipping into Primero’s stall, Victoria hugged his great neck, taking comfort in his gentle strength. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. He butted her to show his concern, and she ran her palm down his mane in calming strokes to reassure him that all was well.
But all was not well. Not at all.
Primero nuzzled her shoulder until she rested her forehead against his brow. She gazed into his gentle brown eye. “You must stop nipping people, sweetheart,” she softly scolded.
He replied with an obstinate chuff that brought a smile to her lips. She stroked his cheek with her thumb in a circular motion and blew gently into his nostrils. “I know you don’t much care for gentlemen after the way you were treated, but I’m afraid you must learn to put up with them. I’ll be married one day and have a husband, and little Charlie will one day grow up, too. You like him. He’s good to you, isn’t he? There, now,” she soothed. “You don’t want to run him off, do you?”
He nickered, and she patted him, accepting the apology with a laugh. “Why don’t we go for that ride?”
The huge horse rocked his head up and down as if he’d understood her perfectly. In spite of her sister’s disparaging comments this afternoon, Victoria was convinced that he had. What did Amelia know, anyway? She hated horses and made fun of the Romani, who’d taught her so much. Far more than anyone knew.
Taking down her light saddle, she fitted it to Primero’s back. It was no more than a slip of padded leather compared to a proper one, but she was more comfortable with it and she knew he liked it better as well.
Without bothering to lead him out first, she hooked a boot in the stirrup and expertly swung herself up. “Hah!” she cried, leaning against his neck.
THE HORSE SHOT out of the stables with Victoria clinging to his back, and Julius swore as the great beast tore down the path, scattering great clods of earth behind him.
She’d ridden right past without even seeing him.
He had left his carriage and circled back on foot, hoping to find a way to speak with her in private. He’d witnessed her climb down the oak from afar and had followed her to the stables only to miss her, thanks to a gardener he’d had to hide from at the last moment.
The last thing he needed was to be discovered chasing after the wrong Lennox sister.
Still cursing under his breath, he made to borrow a horse. If he hurried, he might catch up. He was just saddling a mare when he realized he was not alone.
