A shadow moved to their left in the distance. The brief glimmer of an antler could be seen, and nothing more.
Dorothy pulled softly on the reins and urged her horse toward the shadow, with Stephen following closely at her side.
“Shall we tell the others?” Dorothy asked. When she saw Stephen’s expression, she smiled. “I quite agree. They would make too much noise and scare him off as it is.”
They both approached, no longer speaking. The two dogs that padded along at their heels didn’t bark either but panted softly in their effort to keep up with the horses. The beagles’ tongues lolled beyond their mouths, and they frequently turned their dark eyes up to Dorothy as if she were the leader of the pack.
When they reached a clearing in the trees, the shadow of the stag no longer visible, she swung her leg over the saddle and jumped down. Stephen followed suit and walked around the horse, with his gun tucked under his arm. He caught hold of one of the beagles and soothed him when he tried to yap.
Dorothy nodded, quite admiring Stephen’s tactics to keep the dogs quiet, though she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing her compliment him. They walked on again, toward the edge of the clearing, where they had seen the shadow move before. Dorothy kept her gun low at her side as the dogs followed behind her.
They skirted around two great oak trees, stepping over the roots. When Dorothy hitched the hem of her skirt up, she was glad that Stephen didn’t tell her off for it. Besides, she could have tripped if she left it dangling. She dropped it when they came to a halt at the side of a river, the water glistening in patches, dark shadows caressing it, covered by tree branches.
Halfway through the water was a stag, but no ordinary one. While his coat should have been deep grey or russet red, it was bright white instead.
Dorothy gasped and gripped Stephen’s arm. He halted, too, neither of them moving a muscle as they stared at the white stag. The dogs halted at their feet.
The stag must have heard the dogs panting, for he lifted his head from the river and turned his nose toward them, the great impressive antlers atop his head shifting with the movement.
A white hart.
Dorothy had only heard of such things before. She knew that these creatures had inspired legends, but never had she imagined she would be so privileged to see such a rarity.
“A white stag,” Stephen whispered, moving closer to her. He hadn’t shifted his arm from beneath her hand, and for some reason, Dorothy didn’t release him. She was all too aware of how close they stood together as they marveled at the stag. “I confess, I thought they might not exist.”
“They are so rare,” Dorothy murmured. “They’re supposed to be signs of good fortune.”
“Really?” Stephen smiled. “Since when have you become superstitious, Dorotheo?”
“I do not remember saying I was,” she shot back as quietly as she could. “Although I will admit, there is something quite ethereal about being in its presence. Stephen, we cannot shoot it.”
The idea of hurting an animal that was considered almost mythical, upon which so much superstition was built, felt wrong, indeed.
“I know.” Stephen left the gun firmly down at his side. “Let us hope you are right, eh? And that it is a symbol of good fortune. But for which one of us?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, one of us has to win this wager sometime. Is it a symbol that I shall win? Or that you will win?”
Dorothy released his arm. She didn’t want to think of Lord Chilmond at this moment or how she had been setting her cap for him. Yet, Stephen continued to smile as if he had said something very humorous indeed.
“Look,” he whispered.
She shifted her attention back to the stag. He drank some water and crossed the river, moving calmly to the other side.
“He’s beautiful.”
“He is,” Stephen agreed with a slow nod.
The stag scampered up the other side of the riverbank and then darted between the trees, disappearing as if it were vapor.
“Wow.” Dorothy whistled, shaking her head in disbelief.
“You can release me now, you know.”
Dorothy jumped back from Stephen. She hadn’t even noticed that she had taken hold of his arm again. He chuckled as she walked hurriedly away and moved down the river, continuing her search for something else to hunt.
“What’s the plan, then? To walk idly in case we come across something else?”
