Tessa's Touch (12 page)

He did look, and was just able to see that
there was indeed another, narrower track branching off to the left. He'd never
noticed it before, and he was willing to bet Rush had missed it earlier, even
though it had been full light then.

"Shall we follow it?" he asked, but
Miss Seaton had already headed that way.

They followed the faint path for almost two
miles through the mist and gloom, passing a dilapidated cottage at one point.
Finally, the mare stopped again. Miss Seaton pointed at a clump of trees just
off to the side. "Those lower branches are damaged. Do you suppose—?"

Anthony passed her to inspect the branches.
"Yes, I'd say they left the path here and crashed through these trees.
Something large caused this—and quite recently." He looked more closely
and saw a scrap of cloth caught on one or the broken branches. It looked like
the same spotted cloth Killer had been wearing as a cravat this morning.

In the dim light, he could find no other sign
of his friend, however. "Bring Cinnamon up," he said, unconsciously
putting a ring of command into his voice, unused since the end of the war.
"Let her nose around and see if she can lead us to them."

Though startled by the sudden authority in his
tone, Tessa complied at once, fully aware of the urgency of the situation. As
before, she gave Cinnamon her head so that she could nose about in the brush.
"Find them," she whispered to the horse. "Find Nimbus.
Please."

Despite her protests, she couldn't help feeling
responsible for whatever might have happened to Lord Killerby. Lord Anthony had
put voice to her doubts in a way she had avoided doing herself, even in her
protests to her uncle and cousin. She'd been given a special gift, and she had
been using it for profit.

Cinnamon gave an anxious whinny and turned her
head to look at her rider. Peering down at the area directly in front of her,
Tessa saw the jaggedly broken branch of a thorn tree with something dark on the
end. Blood? Her heart beat faster.

"This way," she said, when Cinnamon
faced forward again and took a couple of trembling steps past the battered
tree. "Let's hurry."
And please don't let them be badly hurt
, she prayed silently.

After a narrow band of gorse, they headed into
a stand of trees and undergrowth that was doubtless used as a covert by some
hunt or other. Now their path was easy to pick out, for bushes and small trees
had been trampled and broken. Clearly, Nimbus had bolted, too frightened to
worry about scrapes along the way.

"Keep an eye to either side, in case Lord
Killerby was thrown," she called back as Cinnamon quickened her pace. It
seemed almost impossible that he hadn't been, given Nimbus's strength and Lord
Killerby's merely competent riding skills. Hadn't he said something during the
last hunt about being good at falling? She hoped it was true.

"What's that, up ahead?" Lord Anthony
asked sharply from behind her.

She'd been focusing on the brush to either
side, but now she looked over Cinnamon's head and saw a barrier of some sort—a
ramshackle fence of wood and wire, some of its timbers fallen at awkward
angles. Just beyond it, something large lay on the ground.

Cinnamon gave a loud neigh before Tessa could
call out, and at once the shape on the ground moved and answered with the call
of a hurt and frightened horse.

"It's them," Lord Anthony exclaimed,
moving past her. "Killer, are you all right?"

His words were answered by a moan, and Tessa
breathed a tiny bit easier. At least he was alive. Had he been killed, she
doubted Lord Anthony would ever have forgiven her—nor would she forgive
herself.

Lord Anthony stopped at the tumbledown fence
and dismounted, rather than risk leaping it in the dark. At his approach,
however, Nimbus began to thrash about, clearly struggling to regain his feet.

"Wait!" Tessa cried. "Let me get
to him first, so I can calm him." She hoped it would be possible. Slipping
from the sidesaddle without the help of a block or assistant, she hit the
ground with a thump, then hurried to the fence.

When she reached it, she saw that it was not so
much a fence as a tangle of wood and wire, sprawling for three or four feet
along the ground. No wonder Nimbus had fallen. Hiking up her skirts, heedless
of what Lord Anthony might think —or see—she began picking her way through the
mess.

"Nimbus, Nimbus, be still," she
called in her soothing lilt as she approached the downed horse.
"Everything will be fine."

Was it her imagination, or did Nimbus's
answering whinny hold a note of relief? A moment later she reached his head and
ran gentle hands along his neck, murmuring hushing sounds. He stilled, and she
called softly to Lord Anthony that he could come up now.

She heard him scrambling over to his friend,
who still lay moaning on the ground a few feet away, while she examined, mostly
by feel, Nimbus's situation. He lay partly on his side, and she feared from his
inability to rise that one of his legs must be broken. When she gently felt
down his length, however, she discovered that his right hind leg was caught in
some sort of snare. At once she set to work to free him.

"Talk to me, Killer," Lord Anthony
was saying urgently to his friend. "Can you talk to me?"

"Anthony? Is it you?" came a weak
reply. "I . . . I think my ankle is broken. You may say 'I told you so,'
if you wish."

"I'll save that for later. Right now, we
need to figure a way to get you back to the lodge so that a surgeon can have a
look at you. Is anything else hurt?"

There was a pause, then Lord Killerby said,
"No, just bruised, I think. Except for poor Nimbus. He won't have to be
put down, will he? This was more my fault than his, you know."

When Lord Anthony didn't respond, Tessa said,
"It's too soon to tell, but I don't think his leg is broken. I can't seem
to undo this snare, however."

"Will he let me approach?" Lord
Anthony asked.

"Yes, he's calm now." She put a hand
on Nimbus's neck, just to be sure.

His shape loomed up in the dark, then he knelt
beside her. She reached out with her other hand and caught his, so that she
could guide it to the offending snare. It was somehow an intimate act in the
concealing darkness, and she had to steel herself against the thrill that went
through her at the contact.

"Ah, it's a rabbit snare." The tremor
in his voice told her that he must still be fearful for his friend. "I
just need to twist this bit this way, and . . . there. It's off. We should move
away before you let him try to stand."

"Thank you," she said. "Get back
to Lord Killerby, and I'll handle Nimbus now."

He rose and moved away, leaving her feeling
oddly bereft. Shaking off such a foolish notion, she focused her attention on
the horse. "Come, then, Nimbus, let's see what you can do," she said
encouragingly. Half rising, she tugged gently on his reins.

Nimbus rolled onto his chest and then, with a
convulsive effort, heaved himself to his feet. "Good boy!" she
exclaimed. "Now, stand still while I see how you've fared."

The horse stood obedient as an old nag as she
ran her hands along his neck, withers, sides and legs. There was a long cut on
his left flank that made him flinch when she touched it, but at least none of his
legs were broken. She breathed a sigh of relief, then guiltily remembered Lord
Killerby.

"How is he?" she asked.

"He won't be walking back," Lord
Anthony replied, "but I'm pretty sure he'll live— won't you, Killer?"

"Yes, I'll be fine." His voice was a
little stronger than it had been when they arrived. "How is my
horse?"

Tessa couldn't help smiling at his concern for
the beast that had injured him—but was just as glad Lord Anthony couldn't see
her smile. "No breaks, but a nasty scratch that may have to be
stitched."

"Can he walk?" Lord Anthony asked.

She led Nimbus forward for a few steps, and
though he favored his right foreleg, he seemed able to move fairly well.
"Yes, I believe so, if we take it slowly."

"Then our first task will be to get all of
us to the other side of that damnable thing that used to be a fence. Killer,
you'll have to use me as a crutch. Up with you, then." The authority was
back in his voice.

With a last, whispered command to Nimbus to
stay still, Tessa hurried over to the two men. "Let me help," she
said. It was the least she could do.

"I've got him," Lord Anthony replied
brusquely, but then Lord Killerby stumbled as the taller man, stooping, tried
to move him forward.

Tessa stepped up in time to keep him from
falling, then inserted herself under his other arm. "I'm a better height
to be a proper crutch anyway."

Anthony grunted, but didn't protest, and
together they were able to help Lord Killerby through the tangle of the fallen
fence to the horses waiting on the other side.

"I don't suppose we dare let anyone but
you ride Cinnamon." There was no mistaking the cynicism in Lord Anthony's
tone.

"That's not true at all," Tessa said,
stung. "In fact, I was going to suggest that Lord Killerby ride her, while
I lead Nimbus. Cinnamon is perfectly good-tempered —and not just with me. You
saw my uncle on her, remember?"

Lord Anthony nodded. "My apologies, Miss
Seaton. If Mercer Emery could ride her, I've no doubt anyone can."

She couldn't resist a chuckle at her uncle's
expense. "My point exactly. Let's get this sidesaddle off of Cinnamon,
then I'll remove Nimbus's saddle so Lord Killerby can use it. I hope it wasn't
damaged —I didn't think to check."

The operation of changing saddles took some
time in the dark, but at last the mare was fitted with Nimbus's— thankfully
operational —saddle and the sidesaddle was set atop the injured horse, though
of course Tessa wouldn't be riding him. Then they had to get Lord Killerby to
his feet again.

"You're both being far more patient with
me than I deserve after my idiocy today," he said as he slowly hobbled
toward Cinnamon with their help. "I'm terribly sorry to put you to such
trouble."

"As Lord Anthony has pointed out, I hold a
share of the blame as well," Tessa said, another pang of guilt assailing
her. Lord Killerby really was a nice man, and didn't deserve a brute like
Nimbus. "You'll have to mount from the right, to spare your left
ankle."

Mounting from the wrong side was awkward, of
course, but with Tessa and Anthony pushing from below, he was finally able to
throw his left leg over Cinnamon's back and settle himself in the saddle.
"There! I'd have sworn ten minutes ago I couldn't have done that. You're
better than a tonic, Miss Seaton."

She knew he was only trying to make her feel
better, but it helped a little, all the same. Then Lord Anthony put a hand on
her shoulder and she looked up at him in sudden alarm, sure he was about to
lambast her for her part in this crisis. To her surprise, however, she could
see his teeth flash in a smile.

"You really are a most capable —and kind—
young lady, Miss Seaton," he said. "Thank you."

Confused and suddenly breathless, she could
only nod. "I'll . . . I'll go get Nimbus," she said when she found
her voice.

The big bay was still standing quietly where
she'd left him. Carefully, she led him through the tricky remains of the fence,
made more difficult by his limp. Lord Anthony mounted his gray, and they slowly
headed back the way they'd come.

After just a few minutes, however, it became
obvious that Nimbus could by no means match even the walking pace of the other
two horses.

"You two had better go on," Tessa
said. "Lord Killerby needs a surgeon for that ankle, and the sooner the
better."

"Don't be absurd, Miss Seaton," Lord
Killerby protested, though his voice was weak again. "We can't leave you
out here alone in the dark and mist. Suppose it turns to rain?"

Tessa looked up at Lord Anthony imploringly.
"Please. I refuse to be the cause of any more pain tonight. If the weather
worsens, I can take shelter in that cottage we passed earlier. I'll be fine
there."

He frowned down at her for a long moment, then
nodded curtly. "Very well. I'll get him back to the lodge as quickly as
possible, then I'll come back for you. Come on, Killer. Gallantry demands
celerity."

With a last worried glance at Tessa, Lord
Killerby nodded and the two men headed back to the path at a fast walk. Tessa
watched them go with relief, feeling that she'd done what she could to
alleviate the trouble she'd caused. And now she wouldn't have to push Nimbus
faster than he could comfortably go, either.

"Come on, then, lad," she said to the
bay, leading him forward one trembling step at a time. Their progress was
painfully slow, for every few yards Nimbus insisted on stopping to rest his leg
and she thought it best to allow it, if he were not to be permanently lamed.

The mist turned into a drizzle. It would be at
least an hour before Lord Anthony could return, for Lord Killerby would be
unable to trot, as that would jar his ankle beyond endurance. She only hoped he
would not faint before they reached the lodge, for she hadn't liked the sound
of his voice when last he spoke.