quite fair to leave Velma unprotected, but she could scarcely breathe in the airless rooms. She yearned for the fresh air and sunshine.
She sidled out of the room while Frances was scolding a housemaid. She lifted up the short train of her traveling suit, that pointless extra fabric that always threatened to trip her, and dashed down the stairs, nearly colliding with the doorman. He hastened to pull the doors open for her, and she darted outside to dash across the road and on into the park.
She had expected London to be a cold place, beset by fogs and showers, but on this day the early-June sun poured over the stands of ash and cedar. A shrub she didn’t recognize edged the raked ground of the path. She found a scrolled iron bench where she inadvertently frightened off a squirrel as she sat down to feel the sun on her shoulders and to watch people and horses enjoying the beautiful afternoon.
The horses appeared to be mostly Thoroughbreds, blacks and chestnuts and bays, with arching necks and the small, delicate heads typical of the breed. She eyed them idly, picking out the ones who might be a match for Black Satin, though there was an ocean between them. Content with this pastime, she stretched out her legs and leaned back against the bench, enjoying the familiar sounds of hooves on hard ground, well-oiled leather creaking, bridles jingling as the intermittent parade of equestrians passed by.
When a different horse appeared, she straightened in surprise. It was a heavier breed than the ones she had seen so far, a handsome white mare with a short, muscular neck, wide shoulders, and a hawklike profile that implied strength and nobility. Her mane and tail were golden brown, and wavy, as if they had been braided and then brushed. Her gait was clean and crisp, and she bore her rider, a tall man with long legs, as if he weighed nothing at all.
Suddenly England was interesting. This mare would be perfect to cross with Black Satin, if the obstacle of the Atlantic Ocean could be overcome. She was sturdy. She appeared to have a level disposition, paying no attention to the other mounts who passed her or the rattle and bang of the occasional landau. She carried herself beautifully, with a nice balance between the set of her head and the movement of her hindquarters. She held her silken tail high, a sure sign of joy and pride.
Annis jumped up, admiring the flex and stretch of the mare’s hindquarters as she trotted past.
“I want that horse!” Annis exclaimed, making a gentleman and a lady strolling by look at her in surprise. Startled, she put her gloved fingers to her lips. In her enthusiasm she hadn’t realized she was speaking aloud.
The horse and its lanky rider disappeared around a bend, leaving her gazing after them. She wished Robbie could have seen the mare. She would be interested in his opinion. She wished she had flagged the rider down so she could ask about the horse, perhaps even see if she might be for sale.
And she wanted to ride the horse herself, to feel that strong movement, that stout back, to know if the mare’s mouth was soft or hard, if her gait was as smooth as it looked.
But it was a big park, and the path was long. There was little chance she could find the horse and rider if she went looking for them. The sun was beginning to sink beyond the trees, and though a few pedestrians still lingered on the grass, all the horses and carriages seemed to have gone. Frances would be looking for her, no doubt wanting her to dress for dinner. Velma would be getting anxious.
Annis took one last look behind her at the spray of the fountain glistening in the lowering rays of the sun. She was still watching it shimmer against the fading sky as she picked up her skirts to cross the path.
She heard the rattle of hoofbeats, but too late. She leaped back, out of the way of a horse coming at full gallop along the now-deserted path. The train of her traveling suit caught on her left boot, and she stumbled, then fell to the ground with a thump. Her eyes watered at the impact. Her hat flew off her head as if she had tossed it.
“Oh damn! Miss? Are you all right, miss?”
She struggled to a sitting position, fighting the tangle of her skirts and