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Flying from the manor in a rage had started to become a trend since Edwina had arrived. Something about riding out into the night, the wind in his hair, the feeling of his horse beneath him, called to him. He could feel his head clear and his body relax. The groom had already turned in for the evening when Fergus approached. His horse snorted in his stall, stomping his feet, ready for Fergus to saddle him. Fergus put his hand on the horse’s nose, allowing himself to breathe deeply again.
“Your Grace?” Simon called out. Fergus started, unaware that he had followed Fergus out to the stables.
“What?” Fergus snapped.
“If you excuse my forwardness —” Simon started, stepping further into the darkness of the stable. Moonlight streamed in behind him, obscuring his face.
“That has not ever stopped you before,” Fergus snapped.
Simon sighed. “I want to strongly encourage you to take a moment to consider the situation.”
“What situation?” Fergus demanded, turning away from his horse finally.
“Your wife has told you that there is an actual mob who could be hunting for you.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Fergus breathed, turning back to his horse. He opened the stall and led the stallion out.
“I think this is serious, Your Grace. You should listen to her,” Simon argued, stepping back as Fergus pushed past him to get his saddle.
“Women like her play games and exaggerate all the time,” Fergus said, throwing the saddle over the back of his horse. He winced as he said it, knowing that he did not really believe it in his heart. The need to protect himself seemed to keep winning over his desire to be the man that Edwina could love.
“Her Grace is not like Lady Somersby or the other women in theton,” Simon pressed, stepping closer to Fergus. “I would have thought you, of all people, would want whoever has been attacking these women to be found and captured.”
“What are you saying?” Fergus asked in a cold voice, pausing with his hand in the belt of the saddle.
“Do you not see the resemblance?” Simon asked. “All these women, attacked, strangled, defiled.”
“I do not know what you mean,” Fergus replied, pushing past Simon again to get his bridle.
Simon sighed again, rubbing his hands across his face. “Your Grace, I have known you to be obstinate and evasive, but this is a new level. Why won’t you just tell your wife where you have been going?”
“I have not even toldyou,” Fergus told him shortly, fitting the bit of the bridle into the horse’s mouth. “What makes you all so sure that I am not the monster?”
“I know you, Fergus,” Simon told him softly. “I have known you since you were a boy. You do not have to act like a monster just because everyone thinks you are one.” Fergus did not respond as he stepped up into the stirrups, slinging his leg over the back of the horses. Simon stood planted in his way.
After a moment, when Simon did not move, Fergus said in a low voice, “Get out of my way.”
“Not before you listen to reason,” Simon argued. “If you go out tonight, you put yourself in danger. You betray your wife. You put your title and your household at risk. Think of everyone that relies on you, and do not go out tonight.”
“If I am the monster everyone thinks I am, would it not be better, then, if Lady Hillow ran the household without me?” Fergus asked then spurred his horse forward, causing Simon to leap back.
“At least tell us when you should be back this time!” Simon called after him, but Fergus did not respond.
Outside the stable, the cool night air kissed his skin, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He rode through the dark paths of the woods, the quiet calming his nerves. His horse pulled on the reins, wanting to rush in the darkness, but Fergus kept him reined in.
He thought he would let his horse go full speed on the road, but he stopped instead. In the moonlight, the quiet road stretched to his left and right. To the west lay Bath, the countryside, vast and empty. To the east, a supposed angry mob, ready to capture him and accuse him of attacking unsuspecting women.
Simon’s words rang in his ears. What would happen to Edwina if he was arrested or, worse, killed by an angry mob? Should not his status as a Duke offer him some sort of protection?
He had lived the past five years in fear and the past two in near isolation. Thetonhad taken everything from him. He had every right to be vengeful and hateful, unforgiving and cruel. But Simon was right. Edwina was not like the women in theton,and neither was he after France. How could he just let them take away what he had left?
His horse stomped with impatience, throwing his head against the reins. Fergus took hold quickly before patting the horse’s neck to calm him. The horse’s warm and soft hair soothed him, as well. The beast stomped a little, a quiet protest.
Pulling on the reins, he turned onto the road. With his mouth set in a thin line, he held his head high.
Maybe Edwina is right,Fergus thought.Maybe it is time to show them that I am not a monster.
