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I’ve never seen anything like that!Evan thought, amazed.It’s no wonder he easily bested all of his competitors!

Defeated, Evan let his shoulders slump as he watched the young man disappear from view. He’d known not what he would have said anyway—“Do you perchance have a sister who escaped her home and went for a ride in the woods at an unseemly hour? I’d like to see her again, would you introduce us?”—but he knew his chance at discovering who that intriguing young horsewoman might have been were growing dimmer by the day.

Chapter 5

The way in to Windle Manor was far more treacherous than out had been. Marjorie would have to fight against time to give Valiant a proper brush down, one that he dearly needed and deserved. She could tell that he’d sensed something was different, more urgent about that day’s ride. The stakes were far more serious, and even the animal knew it.

Marjorie had kept her head down while walking him inside. Further down the length of the old stone barn, a few groomsmen were helping the farrier shoe one of the workhorses. Fortunately, the draught and plow horses didn’t have stalls among the race and show horses, few in numbers though they may be, so there was little chance of Marjorie being found out.

She led Valiant into his stall, clucking softly to bring him forward when he balked.

“I know boy, we shouldn’t be in here yet. But I can’t chance anyone spotting us,” she whispered softly. “I’ll just have to tend to you in here.”

As if he understood her intention, Valiant walked into his stall and dutifully turned around. Marjorie unfastened his bridle and slipped it off over his head, then reached one hand out to hang the tack on the brass hook beside the stall door. She ducked back in as quickly as she could and unfastened the girth that ran below the saddle.

The saddle and blanket would be a little more difficult, she realized. Marjorie peeked out to see if anyone else had come in, then scampered on tiptoe across the wide hall and down a few paces to the saddle room.

“Did you see something?” one of the hands down the barn called out. Marjorie froze, her heart pounding as she strained to hear footsteps approaching.

“Must be’s a rat on the loose,” the other man replied. “I’ll put out some poison to keep it out of the hay. Hand me that polish.”

Marjorie finally let out the breath she’d been holding and turned to put the saddle on its post. She hung the blanket to dry over a line strung from the rafters, then looked around, deciding the best way out. There was nothing to be done but go back the way she’d come, so she watched until the men had their backs to her to dart back to Valiant’s stall.

“What good fortune following a near miss! I’ve no future as a criminal, tis for certain,” she told the patient horse. “I was too fearful they’d see me!”

Soon, Marjorie was lost in the act of devotion to Valiant, his much-deserved brushing. She did not want to bring harm to his hooves by pouring water on him as she usually would. There were fresh wood shavings covering the floor in his stall, after all. Instead, she dunked his brush in a refreshing pail of water between strokes, cooling his heated skin.

“Valiant? When did you get back, boy? Where’s ya mistress at today?” a familiar voice called out. Marjorie ducked down beside her horse’s leg in fear. Hadn’t she just now said she had no constitution for this? The intrigue and these quick maneuvers would be the death of her!

“I see ya haven’t had yer oats yet. Let me fetch those for you before Lady Marjorie finds out and thinks we’re neglecting ya!”

Mr. Colin stepped in just far enough to pick up Valiant’s water pail and to unhook the bin for oats from the wall, then walked away. Marjorie knew she only had moments before he’d return, so she had to make her escape now or face discovery.

Leaving the brush where it lay, Marjorie ducked out of the stall and took off for the barn, no longer caring if she was seen. She sprinted for the worn dirt pathway that led from the back of the stable towards the house. She thought someone might have called out, but she dared not slow down or chance a look.

Marjorie hardly slowed until she reached the main house, pausing in the archway to the side of the manor to catch her breath. There would be no sneaking quietly to her room if she were still panting like one of the race horses.

Voices came from around the corner of the house, and once again she darted up from her perch and took off in a different direction. This time, she bounded through the open kitchen door, sprinted through the vast, hot room, and then leapt up the servants’ stairs two at a time. Unaccustomed to this kind of effort, Marjorie clutched at her chest as she ran the rest of the way to her room and threw herself through the door.

Marjorie had scarcely fallen back on the bed, letting her beating heart resume a more normal rhythm, than a knock at the door made her sit bolt upright.

“Marjorie? Are you in there? I’ve looked all over for you. I need to speak with you, it’s urgent!”

Harriet’s tearful voice filled Marjorie with dread. Obviously, the younger girl needed her, but she couldn’t let her sister see her like this.

“One moment, I’m… I’m undressed! Please wait!” Marjorie called, rushing frantically behind a dressing screen and fumbling with the many layers of unfamiliar apparel.

However did men manage this?she thought angrily, untying her breeches and working the tiny buttons on the shirt and unfastening the vest.

“Marjorie! Please, I must come in!” Harriet called out, her tears evident in her words.

“One more moment! I’ll just be… I’ll be… wait!”

Too late, she realized her sister had opened the door and entered the room. Marjorie’s gown was still lain across the chair where she’d left it earlier that day.

“Marjorie? Are you in here?” Harriet called, looking around the room.

“I said I was dressing!” she called back from behind the screen. “Will you hand me my frock, please?”