Page 6 of The Heir
The thought of those hundred thousand lectures dissolved the last of Victoria’s patience.
Prince snorted. As if it was the starting gun, Victoria slapped his dappled flank with her crop. The gelding laid his ears flat and sprang forward.
“Ma’am, no!” cried Jane.
“Your Highness!” wailed Hornsby.
But they were too late. Prince was fast, and Victoria could ride him to the ends of the earth.And why not?She bared her teeth, as if to dare the world to try to catch up.Why shouldn’t I?
The gates were closed, but the walls were really only a suggestion between the grounds and the park (a fact that her mother pointed out endlessly to further frighten her). Victoria could take the jump. Prince could do it easily. They would vault over the wall and land firmly on the other side. Dash would wriggle right under the gates. Together, they would make for the carriage drive.
The wind whistled in her ears—an urgent, exhilarating sound. Victoria leaned low over Prince’s neck, his reins gathered up in her gloved hands. She laughed. Because they could not stop her. They could not even catch her. Not poor, dreary Jane or pinch-faced Hornsby. She would leave them behind—them and this whole miserable day.
The gallop filled the whole of Victoria’s senses—the speed of the world whirling past her; the thunder of Prince’s hooves and the heat and life radiating from him; the work of keeping her seat, keeping Prince from stumbling, keeping control of the reins, keeping her eyes ahead to watch for rabbit holes or hillocks.
Freedom.
Victoria’s bonnet flew backward and dangled by its ribbons. Her hair uncoiled down her back. Rain pattered against her scalp. Jane and Sir John and Mama, the palace, the system, the dreaded dinner—they were all miles behind now. Not one of them could be shocked by her bare head.
Freedom!
Rain stung her face and eyes, but she did not pull Prince back. If he did not mind a bit of rain, why should she? She shouted for pure delight and touched Prince’s flank with her crop again. Let them try to catch her. Prince would outrun them all. He’d carry her away.
Away from Mama and her lectures and her pinches and her tears.
Away from Sir John Conroy and his shouting and his speeches and his demands that she obey his system without question.
Away from Jane, their limp, reluctant spy.
They’d topped the rise. Prince’s breathing was growing labored; the ground underfoot was slick with fresh rain. Dash barked in the distance, letting her know he would catch up soon. The downslope ahead was steep. Victoria pulled back the reins to slow Prince down, disappointment welling up in her. But her wish for flight was not worth the risk of his legs and her neck and . . .
And Prince shied.
The gelding screamed. Victoria screamed. The world slipped and spun and slammed against her. For a moment, there was nothing but sparkling stars and one great howl of pain that ripped through her skull and bones. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe.
Then, ever so slowly, came the realization that she was lying on her back. On the slope. In the wet grass. Icy rain filled her eyes and trickled into her nose. Dash was barking in frantic distress, but the sound seemed very far away.
Victoria sputtered and twisted, trying to right herself and perhaps quiet the ringing that filled her ears.
And found she was staring down at a dead man.
Chapter 2
Jane saw Prince rear up. She saw the princess fall. In that instant, all her breath stopped in her throat.
They will blame me.
She looked to the horizon, wondering how far she could get before they fetched her back again. Would they lock her in the Tower?
While Jane sat frozen, barely holding on to the reins, Hornsby raced past her on his bony brown mare and disappeared over the rise.
Dash was barking wildly, demanding that someone, anyone, come and see what had happened.
See what Jane Conroy let happen!
“Miss Conroy!” Hornsby hollered. “You’re needed, miss!”
Despite the fear raging inside her, Jane found herself reflecting distantly that no one had ever said such a thing to her before. She slid awkwardly from Smokey’s back and stumbled up over the hill.
