him. I don’t think anyone’s ever found out what went on in their marriage, but Serafina was very unhappy.”
“Yes, I’ve heard a little about that. Well, forget that.” A shout interrupted their talk.
“Here we go. Stay up with me if you can!”
Edward and Serafina led the pack, and they reached a fence. It was not a particularly high fence, and Serafina moved her weight forward to make the jump easier for the horse. She was slightly ahead of Sir Edward, but she heard a muffled cry. She turned around to see that his saddle had slipped, and he was falling. “Sir Edward!” she called out and pulled her horse up beside him, afraid someone would jump the fence and land on him now that his horse had wandered away, stripped of his saddle. Once Serafina saw that the other riders were stopping, she jumped off her horse and ran to him.
Sir Edward was lying on his face, and carefully she rolled him over. He had a terrible bruise on his head; part of the fence, evidently, had struck him on the neck and raked down across his shoulders, tearing his clothing. His eyes were closed, and she took his pulse.
“Is he all right? Is he hurt?” Dismounted riders came crowding around, and Serafina said, “He’s unconscious, but his pulse is strong. I don’t think he’s badly hurt, but we need to get him back to the house and have my father look at him.”
“I’ll go get a wagon,” one of the younger men said and kicked his horse into a dead run.
The hunters all crowded around, and Serafina, still holding his head, said, “Please don’t crowd so close.”
Dylan, however, knelt down on the other side. “What happened?”
“His saddle slipped, I think.”
Gervase joined them and asked, “Is there anything we can do?”
“No, my father will have to look at him.” She held the man’s head tenderly. “Someone go warn Heather, but be calm. He’s not badly hurt.”
Lord Darby was placed on his bed in his room, and Septimus examined him carefully. He looked up with some irritation at the crowd and shooed them out as if they were chickens. “Everyone out,” he said. “Lord Edward is going to be all right.”
Dylan asked, “Do you think he has a concussion?”
“No, I don’t think so. Look, he’s waking up. See his eyes?”
Serafina moved to the other side of the bed, and Dylan and Gervase stayed down at the foot.
“Can you hear me, Lord Darby?” Septimus asked loudly.
Lord Darby moved his head and winced. He reached up, and his eyes opened. He looked confused and said, “I . . . had an accident.”
“Yes, your saddle gave way when you went over the fence. You took quite a fall,” Serafina said. She came over and took his hand, putting her own on his head. “But you’re all right now.”
“I’ll stay with him for a while,” Septimus said. “The rest of you go away, please. He needs the rest.”
Serafina left the room and stood there for a moment thinking. Something troubled her, and she said, “Excuse me, Dylan, I have an errand to run.”
“Of course, Lady Trent.”
Gervase looked after her. “Where is she going?”
“I never know what that woman’s going to do next.”
Serafina left the house and went to the stables. She hailed one of the stablehands and said, “Did you bring Lord Darby’s saddle back?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s over there. The horse wasn’t hurt badly.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Serafina walked over and took one look at the girth. Her eyes narrowed, and she took a deep breath.
The girth had been cut halfway through, and the other part was ragged where it had not been able to bear the weight of the rider. “Someone cut this on purpose,” Serafina murmured aloud. “Someone tried to kill Lord Darby.”
Slowly she turned and picked up the saddle. It was very light. She carried it away and put it in the carriage that she arrived in. She put it in the baggage section, and then a grim tension came to her mouth as she turned back toward the house.
The
“Yes, I’ve heard a little about that. Well, forget that.” A shout interrupted their talk.
“Here we go. Stay up with me if you can!”
Edward and Serafina led the pack, and they reached a fence. It was not a particularly high fence, and Serafina moved her weight forward to make the jump easier for the horse. She was slightly ahead of Sir Edward, but she heard a muffled cry. She turned around to see that his saddle had slipped, and he was falling. “Sir Edward!” she called out and pulled her horse up beside him, afraid someone would jump the fence and land on him now that his horse had wandered away, stripped of his saddle. Once Serafina saw that the other riders were stopping, she jumped off her horse and ran to him.
Sir Edward was lying on his face, and carefully she rolled him over. He had a terrible bruise on his head; part of the fence, evidently, had struck him on the neck and raked down across his shoulders, tearing his clothing. His eyes were closed, and she took his pulse.
“Is he all right? Is he hurt?” Dismounted riders came crowding around, and Serafina said, “He’s unconscious, but his pulse is strong. I don’t think he’s badly hurt, but we need to get him back to the house and have my father look at him.”
“I’ll go get a wagon,” one of the younger men said and kicked his horse into a dead run.
The hunters all crowded around, and Serafina, still holding his head, said, “Please don’t crowd so close.”
Dylan, however, knelt down on the other side. “What happened?”
“His saddle slipped, I think.”
Gervase joined them and asked, “Is there anything we can do?”
“No, my father will have to look at him.” She held the man’s head tenderly. “Someone go warn Heather, but be calm. He’s not badly hurt.”
Lord Darby was placed on his bed in his room, and Septimus examined him carefully. He looked up with some irritation at the crowd and shooed them out as if they were chickens. “Everyone out,” he said. “Lord Edward is going to be all right.”
Dylan asked, “Do you think he has a concussion?”
“No, I don’t think so. Look, he’s waking up. See his eyes?”
Serafina moved to the other side of the bed, and Dylan and Gervase stayed down at the foot.
“Can you hear me, Lord Darby?” Septimus asked loudly.
Lord Darby moved his head and winced. He reached up, and his eyes opened. He looked confused and said, “I . . . had an accident.”
“Yes, your saddle gave way when you went over the fence. You took quite a fall,” Serafina said. She came over and took his hand, putting her own on his head. “But you’re all right now.”
“I’ll stay with him for a while,” Septimus said. “The rest of you go away, please. He needs the rest.”
Serafina left the room and stood there for a moment thinking. Something troubled her, and she said, “Excuse me, Dylan, I have an errand to run.”
“Of course, Lady Trent.”
Gervase looked after her. “Where is she going?”
“I never know what that woman’s going to do next.”
Serafina left the house and went to the stables. She hailed one of the stablehands and said, “Did you bring Lord Darby’s saddle back?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s over there. The horse wasn’t hurt badly.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Serafina walked over and took one look at the girth. Her eyes narrowed, and she took a deep breath.
The girth had been cut halfway through, and the other part was ragged where it had not been able to bear the weight of the rider. “Someone cut this on purpose,” Serafina murmured aloud. “Someone tried to kill Lord Darby.”
Slowly she turned and picked up the saddle. It was very light. She carried it away and put it in the carriage that she arrived in. She put it in the baggage section, and then a grim tension came to her mouth as she turned back toward the house.
The
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