Page 3 of An Offer for a Spinster
That was a mistake, of course. The Duke cast him a quick, furious look, heavy with dislike, and did not deign to make a response. His look was enough, it seemed. Alexander shrunk back, visibly cowed, and wrapped his arms tighter around himself.
Katherine pressed her lips together and said nothing. All of them had gone through phases of trying to win their father’s approval. For the most part, it was impossible, but Alexander had never quite given up. Lately, he seemed to think that conquests and gambling would impress the Duke.
They did not, naturally, but still, he persisted.
The horse reached the mounting block, and the Duke stepped up briskly. Before Katherine had time to suck in a breath, the Duke swung his leg over the horse’s back, and settled himself in the saddle.
She breathed out, not daring to glance at William.
The grooms backed away, on edge, hands poised to catch the Duke should he fall. The horse snorted and pranced, ears going back, but the Duke kept his seat.
He allowed himself one tight smile, his cold blue gaze scanning his children.
“You see, William? All it takes is courage and confidence. I had flattered myself that you had both, to an extent. I was wrong, it seems.”
Tapping his heels against the horse’s flank, the Duke urged it forward. The horse’s ears were still pinned back, and it jerked its head. The Duke kept a punishing grip on the reins, and Katherine saw blood and froth at the horse’s mouth. She winced.
“Do you see, William?” the Duke called, a hint of triumph in his voice. The horse was walking forward, as quiet as a lamb, but she saw the tremor in the Duke’s hands, and the way the reins strained.
“Papa, I…” Katherine began, not entirely sure what she intended to say or whether it would be listened to or not. “Papa, I really think…”
She never finished what she had to say. The horse jerked its head, yanking the reins out of the Duke’s hand. It tossed its head, giving a horrible scream, and lurched forward.
Everybody cried out, running forward as if they could catch up to the creature. Clouds of dust and clods of earth kicked up behind the horse, raining down over them. She could see the Duke grabbing in vain for the reins, bouncing around in the saddle like a sack of potatoes.
But the paddock was not large, and the horse would surely have to turn… Katherine realised her mistake immediately. The horse was galloping towards the paddock fence and did not slow down.
“He’s going to jump!” she heard a thin voice scream, a little shocked to discover it was her own. “He’s going to jump the fence!”
Nobody responded. There was nothing anyone could do, and besides, they’d likely already worked that out.
The horse leapt, with a grace that Katherine had to admire even at a time like this, easily clearing the high fence, hooves leaving the ground.
Time seemed to slow, and she saw her father shifting in the saddle, trying in vain to adjust his balance, to weather a jump he had not been prepared for, still scrabbling at the reins in an attempt to retake control.
Perhaps that was his undoing, in the end.
Slowly, very slowly, it seemed, the Duke slid sideways out of the saddle. The seconds seemed to last forever. Strange flashes of memory impressed themselves in Katherine’s mind – the sun glinting off the Duke’s signet ring on his outstretched hand, one booted foot flying up to be silhouetted against the sun, a spray of grass falling around them.
Then the endless second passed, the horse hit the ground, and the Duke was underneath its hooves.
Thump.
Somebody screamed. The Duchess, perhaps, and commotion broke out.
The horse galloped away, kicking and rearing in an attempt to get the saddle off its back. The Duke lay still, in a crumpled heap on the ground.
The grooms raced forward, but William was quicker. He covered the length of the paddock in a blinking, vaulting the paddock fence as if it wasn’t there, and dropped to his knees beside their father.
Katherine made to run after him, but Alexander grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. She’d dropped her parasol at some point,and the ridiculous lacy thing lay on the ground, a muddy smear of white.
“Alex, what are you doing?”
“You won’t want to see,” Alex said, his face bone white. “This isn’t good, Katherine.”
She pulled her wrist out of his grip and ran towards the Duke. The grooms were crowding around him now, and William was leaning over him.
She waited for the Duke to do something, to sit up, to groan, to start scolding someone – because it would never be his own fault that he’d fallen off a horse. He would have to blame the horse, naturally, or perhaps one of the grooms for not saddling it up properly. Perhaps he would blame William for distracting him, somehow.
