Page 17 of Wicked Designs
But she couldn’t let him win this game by wooing her into submission with tender words and caresses. Emily couldn’t afford to fall for this man. They were worlds apart. He was unlikely to marry for love and she wanted someone who could love as strongly as she did. She couldn’t stay, couldn’t take the risk of falling for him. Her parents would’ve wanted her to survive, and that required escaping the duke and finding someone to marry.
Emily studied the surrounding lands. A low stone wall, about five feet in height, rose from the ground a few hundred yards off.
“What is beyond that wall?” she asked casually.
“A pond and a meadow or two, beyond that the village of Blackbriar.”
A village? The fool might as well have drawn her a map to escape.
Godric kept his attention on Cedric, who raced his horse back and forth in the field, stretching the horse’s stride into a beautiful gallop.
Emily’s hand was still locked firmly in Godric’s grasp, complicating matters. Carefully, she extricated her hand from his, and he turned to see the reason she tugged free. Emily leaned forward to pat her horse’s neck.
“He’s a lovely creature.” She threaded her fingers through the thick mane of her gelding. She didn’t even have to look up to know that Godric smiled at her.
“Are you finding that you like horses?”
“Oh, yes. They are a bit frightening, but this one is ever so sweet.” She resisted the urge to laugh. She’d never been scared of horses in her life—the occasional goat, maybe, when the awful things nipped at the hems of her skirts—but never horses. Godric was in for quite a surprise.
She raised her head as though to follow Cedric’s progress across the field. She waited for the moment at which Cedric swung to the right, back toward the house.
She painted a look of shock and alarm on her face and pointed frantically in Cedric’s direction.
“Godric, look out! Highwaymen!”
Godric tensed, bracing for trouble and reared his horse around.
Emily dug her heels into her horse’s flanks and tookoff at a breakneck speed, straight for the wall, praying her horse could clear it. Blackbriar lay beyond the wall. She would seek help or hide until she found her way to London.
It tookGodric several seconds to realize what had happened. Highwaymen, indeed.
Emily flew across the golden field, a warrior maiden at the apex of battle. Her lowered posture and natural control over the horse were evident. The girl was cleverer than he’d thought and he had been a fool by telling her about Blackbriar.
“Emily!” he roared.
She headed right for the wall and if she didn’t stop, the horse would throw her. She’d land in the lake on the other side, break her neck or drown.
He dug his boots into his horse’s sides, forcing it into action.
Moments later Godric was close on her heels, only twenty feet behind, his black gelding the fastest in the stables. He nearly shut his eyes as her horse reached the wall.
In one graceful arc, she cleared it, and a few seconds later, so did he.
Emily controlled her horse better than he expected, which had landed in perfect balance. She’d jerked her mount to the side, narrowly escaping a messy end in the shallows of the lake.
Godric was not so lucky. His horse panicked as itshooves landed in the soft muddy grass of the lake’s edge, and it balked, sending him head first into the water.
Emily slowedher horse when she heard another shout, this time one of fear. She turned just in time to see Godric clear the fence but get thrown from his horse. His body hit the surface of the lake in a loud splash and sank out of sight. She held her breath, waiting for to him break the surface. Any moment he’d come up sputtering and humiliated.
Only he didn’t.
A thread of fear moved through her, whispering with guilt for letting a man like him die. He couldn’t die because of her reckless plan, he couldn’t. She was beginning, just a little, to understand him and she didn’t want his death on her conscience.
Emily cast a panicked look in the direction of Blackbriar, cursed under her breath and headed back to the lake. She refused to consider why—she owed Godric nothing.
She flung herself out of the saddle and plunged into the water nearest his entry. The lake was shallow near the edge but murky. She barely pinpointed the contours of Godric’s white shirt. She wrapped her arms about his chest and kicked hard, propelling them to the surface. He sagged heavily against her, unconscious, but she kept kicking, never more thankful that she was a strong swimmer. When she reached the shore, she was sucking in air as she clawed her way up the muddy embankmentwith Godric in tow. Her riding habit weighted her down as though she were dragging a boulder in addition to Godric’s body back to shore.
She rolled him onto his back and pressed her head against his chest. He wasn’t breathing.
