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Probably with relief.

She dropped the knife on the floor. "Goodbye, Lord Randolph."

With that, she left the room.

Bey was waiting and she went straight into his arms.

"How is he?" he asked, as if it was of little concern.

"Intact. Are you disappointed?"

"Not unless you were merciful out of weakness."

"I don't think so. I don't want anything about him to linger on me, not even his death. Can we go now?"

"Of course." He made a gesture and a man rode forward and dismounted to offer his horse.

She saw that as he'd said, there were men around on guard.

Even so, she said, "I think I was bait. I think de Couriac's out here, trying to kill you."

"I suspect not, or not yet. I was supposed to be here much later. But we should leave. Can you ride?"

"Of course."

Bey helped her mount, adjusting the stirrups and arranging her skirts as decently as possible, then he mounted his own horse.

"Slow or fast?" he asked.

"Fast. Fast riding makes a poor target, and it's what I need."

Chapter 29

She kicked her horse hard and it took off, thundering down the lane, the wind whipping through her hair. Dangerous in the dark in unknown territory, but she wanted this, needed this. In moments he was by her side, guarding, but not controlling.

She grinned for him and watched ahead, blessing the moonlight. They'd been on a road before turning into this lane, so there must be a turning soon. A signpost helped, and she swung the horse around the bend, hardly slackening at all. Then she headed flat out for London, the dome of St. Paul's a dark silhouette in the distance against the paler sky.

Illegally, she jumped the toll gates, not allowing anything to get in her way. She wanted to fly, and she wanted to carry him beyond danger.

He stayed with her, but a glance back showed their escort falling behind. Not wise, perhaps, but speed was better. And she needed the blood rushing through her body and the power of the horse between her thighs, the wind against her skin, and the target growing closer and closer.

She almost went down twice on the rough road, but she held the horse up and he was strong and gallant. As fields became town, the road improved, and as the way became easier her madness eased. She slowed to a canter, and then down to a walk, patting her horse and murmuring praise, so he arched his steaming neck with pride.

Bey slowed beside her, and side by side, they walked the horses along streets silent except for the drumming hooves of the escort trying to catch up.

If de Couriac had been around, he could not be here now.

"Was that ride wisdom or folly?" she asked.

"Who can tell? We seem to have survived. If I had been more careful, it would not have been necessary at all."

"I believe I commented on this illusion that you're God."

He didn't smile. "There were a number of things I could have done to prevent this."

"Bey, if you take any injury to me as a wound on your soul, I cannot bear it!"

"A dilemma, is it not?"

He was in a damnably strange mood, and she couldn't deal with it now. "Should we let Lord Randolph live, even abroad? He might hurt others."

"We are not God," he said dryly. "And it was your choice."

She glanced over at him, white shirtsleeves and skin cool and pale in the moonlight.

"I could not kill him," she confessed, "and now I don't know whether it was strength or weakness. I'm even weak enough to feel a bit sorry for him, tied up there. What if someone comes across him. Or rats... ?"

He did laugh then. "A tender heart after all. The man whose horse you ride stayed behind to make sure he doesn't get badly nibbled. Bryght's gone to organize his escort to a ship."

"Have you arranged my return to the Queen's House so efficiently?"

"Don't sound disgruntled. I may not be omnipotent, but I can at least be efficient."

The pounding hooves grew louder, and then his men were there, ranking on either side, horses steaming in the night air.

"I'm inclined to believe the omnipotence," she said. "How did you come to rescue me in time, and with armed guards?"

He said something to the nearest man, and soon he and another were riding ahead, scouting as if this was the wilderness rather than a quiet London street.

"I took five minutes to gather them," he said flatly. "It could have been five minutes