came within sight of the gates of London, he was no nearer an answer than when this unusual journey began.
Suddenly, Ebony stumbled. The horse quickly lifted his hoof, only to falter again. Garrett’s heart thundered as he realized it was his own carelessness that had caused this mishap. His horse started whinnying and bucking erratically, tossing Garrett off in the process. He landed painfully on his hip and a roar of anger escaped his lips as Ebony galloped past him.
Garrett saw that the woman had somehow managed to stay on the horse. Her fingers grasped the thick mane, clinging to it. She grabbed Ebony’s reins and brought him to a halt. She walked him back toward where Garrett lay sprawled on the ground, stroking Ebony’s neck and murmuring soothing words into the horse’s ear.
A string of curses burst from Garrett as Ashby’s rich, deep laughter disturbed the quiet, misty morning. Ashby reached down a hand to Garrett, who scowled up at him, but took it nonetheless.
Once on his feet, Garrett limped slowly over to Ebony, his anger cooling since he knew the accident was his fault. “If horses could wear sheepish grins, I’d say you could teach them, you silly steed.” He stroked Ebony’s muzzle fondly, shaking his head. He looked up. “Are you all right, Lady Montayne?”
She frowned for a moment before answering. He could guess as to her confusion. He saw the moment that she realized that she was Lady Montayne and instantly willed herself back into her chosen role.
“Quite fine, thank you, Sir Garrett. But are you?”
Garrett rubbed his right hip, tender to the touch. “Nothing a little rest cannot cure, my lady. But Ebony has thrown a shoe.”
He lifted his horse’s hoof, studying it for a long moment, then he stared off into the distance. “London’s gates won’t be open to travelers for another half-hour or so. I wouldn’t want Ebony going that far at any rate.”
“We passed a small row of cottages not three minutes ago, Garrett,” Ashby pointed out. “I believe there was a smith’s stand.”
“Then we will make our way back slowly.” Garrett motioned to their fellow traveler. “Lady Montayne, might you be so gracious as to ride with Sir Ashby? I’d like to keep any weight off Ebony’s back until he’s been properly attended.”
Her face brightened. “I would be happy to comply, my lord, but I would rather enjoy the chance to stretch my own legs, as well.”
Before she slid from the saddle, Garrett was there. His hands closed about her slender waist, lifting her easily.
Her feet touched the ground and she met his eyes. “Thank you,” she said meekly.
His hands rested around her waist a moment longer than necessary before he dropped them to his sides and turned to take Ebony’s reins.
Ashby dismounted, too, and the party walked slowly, stiff from their many hours in the saddle. Light was beginning to ease upward, erasing the stars that had been scattered across the sky. A few birds began calling to one another, singing in the new day.
*
A brisk wind rose as they continued onward. It surprised Madeleine when Sir Garrett removed his heavy cloak in order to drape the heavy fabric around her shoulders. He even tightened the laces around her neck to secure the welcomed warmth.
She’d become unaccustomed to kindness and lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze. “’Tis thoughtful of you, Sir Garrett,” she managed to say quietly and turned her head away to wipe a tear before it fell. She knew he studied her intently and refused to meet his eyes, focusing instead on the road ahead.
They walked in companionable silence for a short while, soon reaching a small gathering of cottages. As Sir Ashby had said, a blacksmith shed sat directly next to a shabby cottage.
“I’ll awaken the smith,” Ashby told them and sauntered off to knock at the door.
Within minutes, he roused the smith from his sleep. The man appeared quite agreeable to be able to service well-dressed gentlemen at such an early hour. As they led their horses toward the shed, Madeleine touched Sir Garrett’s arm lightly.
“I fear at any moment my stomach will grumble fiercely, my lord,” she whispered. “Mayhap we could break our fast? This smith’s wife might be persuaded to prepare us something.”
“A fine idea, Lady Montayne.” Garrett fished out two coins and handed them to her. “Offer these to the good woman and I’ll wager she can accommodate us in no time.”
“Yes, my lord. I shall take care of personal matters and