with most of the servants, my departure might go unnoticed.
Creeping barefoot into the hall and down the stairs, I evaded detection. Good fortune followed me into the drawing-room, past the study, and through a maze of companionways. Not one person, from footman to butler to liveried maid, thwarted my getaway.
Until I reached the blue parlor and the sound of my mother’s voice.
“When will you return to England, my lord?”
“Within a month,” he said. “Sooner if there’s a wedding to anticipate.”
“You won’t find a more suitable bride. And since her grandfather was an earl, she has excellent breeding.”
“I look forward to making her acquaintance. She was quite stunning from my view on the pier.”
Hidden around the corner, I bit down on my cheek.
What could his lordship possibly find stunning about a fourteen-year-old girl?
I hugged the package to my chest, paralyzed by the sudden image of his wrinkly old penis in an unrelaxed state.
Run, Bennett. Go!
The parlor’s massive wooden door propped open, giving its occupants a direct view of my path to the main rear exit. But I’d grown up here and knew every chamber and passage.
Veering left, I ducked at the approach of the porter’s limping footsteps. Another hallway brought me into the path of a housemaid, and I dashed into a closet. Then I crawled on hands and knees through the busier parts of the estate, following the aroma of plum cake baking in the kitchen.
There, I rose to my feet and peered inside.
Fire flickered beneath the spit. Syllabub glasses sparkled. Mutton stew bubbled in the kettle, and the cook maid—a young native woman—hummed a foreign tune.
Everyone knew servants weren’t supposed to sing, hum, or make any noise within earshot of the master’s family.
I grinned at her rebellion. With her back turned to the doorway and her pretty voice vibrating the air, she didn’t catch my escape through the kitchen and out the servant door.
Morning sunlight blotted my vision, and a warm breeze tugged at my hair, loosening the curls. I squinted in the direction of the barn and listened.
And listened harder.
Damn the silence! Where were those hounds?
Don’t panic.
The dogs would find me. They always did.
I bolted across the dewy lawn, tripping over the petticoat and scattering my nerves in a burst of exhilaration.
In the distant field, a tenant farmer lifted his head to watch my inelegant race to the stable. But he wouldn’t stop me. No one did as I made a break for an unfamiliar horse that was already tacked outside.
Saddled in the finest leather and tied to a post, the black thoroughbred didn’t belong to the estate.
“Miss Benedicta?” The stable boy emerged from the barn and offered me a kind smile. “Do you fancy a ride today? Shall I ready a mare?”
“There’s no time. Did Lord Grisdale arrive by carriage?”
“Nah, he came by horse. That one there.” His freckled face scrunched as he pointed at the beast I was already mounting. “You mustn’t—”
“I’ll return it.” I stuffed my wrapped package in the saddlebag.
“He’ll have my hide!”
“Have my adventures ever earned you a lashing?” With my gaze on the surrounding copse of trees, I tucked the bulky skirts beneath my legs.
“No, but Lord Grisdale—”
“Will aim his strap at my behind.” I adjusted my jade pendant to rest against my chest. “Hand me the reins.”
He made a show out of dragging his feet, as he so often did when I involved him in my mischief. Then a curse slipped under his breath, decision made. He untied the tether and tossed it to my waiting hand.
“I’ll sneak you some plum cake after my flogging tonight.” My wink brought twin stains of pink to his freckled cheeks.
Snapping my hips forward, I spurred Grisdale’s horse into a gallop.
Within minutes, the pins in my hair surrendered to the wind, giving flight to a tangled mane of curls. At the tree line, I shoved two fingers into my mouth and released a high-pitched whistle.
A racket of noise disturbed the undergrowth. Moments later, the hounds shot out of the woodland and bounded in my direction.
I slowed the horse, exploding with laughter, as paws and jowls scrabbled at my legs. The dogs jumped and licked with vigor, coating my fingers in strings of drool.
And mud.
It was everywhere, blackening the petticoat and streaking my sleeves. Nothing I could do about it now.
“Shear off, you rascals!” I clapped my hands, calling the hounds’ attention. “Where is he? Show me!”
Just like all the times before, they took off into the trees, tails up and muzzles down, letting their noses