cat, I knew. But I would take my chances. I reached for the doorknob and immediately, from the bottom of the stairs, came a low, frightening growl.
Lamb was standing now, his paws on the lowest step. I quickly took my hand from the knob, and he lay down again. But the golden hairs along his back were still raised. Had he been told to keep me out of their room? I couldn’t believe it. I knew some animals could be trained to do tricks, but this was different. He chilled my blood.
I retrieved my purse from the drawer. There were three sovereigns in it and ten shillings. The sovereigns I left where they were. I wrapped two of the silver shillings in a handkerchief and put them in the pocket of my dress. In the other pocket was the sharpened quill. I let it be.
I put my weight on my foot and groaned with pain. “Dangnabit!” I fumed. There was no chance that I could walk a mile on it. I was there, and there I must stay.
I got my book of poetry from the dresser, went back to the living room, and settled at the table. But even Lord Byron could not keep my attention.
I studied Lamb. Would he allow me to explore Raven’s Roost if I kept away from their room?
There was not much to the house.
My aunt Minnie kept a clean and tidy home. The grate had been shined, the mantel dusted, the floor scrubbed. The table where we’d eaten gleamed, as did the heavy silver candlestick in its center. The violin was propped against the far wall. There was a door at the back of the kitchen.
Lamb did not move as I opened it and peered in.
There were heavy waterproof boots, waterproof coats, two oars, a rolled-up canvas that might have been a small sail. A saddle—not a sidesaddle, bridle, and reins hung on a peg.
Praise be!
With difficulty, I dragged the saddle outside and went back for the bridle and reins.
Lamb paid no heed.
The horse stood quietly as I put the saddle and bridle on him and fixed the reins.
“What is your name?” I whispered to him. “Do you have a name?”
In this strange place, I would not have been startled if he’d answered. I shook my head. Such nonsensical thinking would only deter me from my mission.
“I will call you Dobbin,” I said. “Is that all right?”
With difficulty, I got my uninjured foot into the stirrup and was on.
“Go, Dobbin!” I whispered.
He walked slowly through the wooden gateposts. I knew I should push the gate closed again, but I was in a hurry to be gone. “Stay!” I told the hens that were huddled under a lean-to shelter. If they wandered and became lost, I suspected I would be in great trouble. For that, and for taking the horse without permission.
The horse and I ambled along the road I’d come on last night. There was no way to hasten him, but it did not matter. My aunt and uncle would not be back till the tide turned, and that would be much later.
I was accustomed to riding sidesaddle. But I was quite comfortable. What a pretty sight I must look, I thought, with my dress raised, my pantaloons exposed on either side of Dobbin’s back, my bedraggled stockings, no bonnet on my head to save my skin and to tame my curls, no gloves to cover my hands. Not correct attire for a young lady. How Eli Stuart would smile at my concern with modesty! Thanks be that he couldn’t see me.
I could still hear the sea, and my lips tasted of salt.
When I twisted around in the saddle and looked back, I could see Raven’s Roost and several other houses jumbled along Brindle Point. I could see the house among the trees where Eli lived.
My mind suddenly filled with him. His blue-green eyes, his smile, which I had seen only twice but remembered with such vividness, it made me gasp. What ailed me? Why was I so beset with thoughts of him?
Which house was Daphne’s? Daphne who pined for him? Was she beautiful?
“Go, Dobbin,” I said. “Go quickly so I have no time to think or wonder. Carry me to Brindle.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I SAW THE VILLAGE IN THE distance, and as we got closer, I
Lamb was standing now, his paws on the lowest step. I quickly took my hand from the knob, and he lay down again. But the golden hairs along his back were still raised. Had he been told to keep me out of their room? I couldn’t believe it. I knew some animals could be trained to do tricks, but this was different. He chilled my blood.
I retrieved my purse from the drawer. There were three sovereigns in it and ten shillings. The sovereigns I left where they were. I wrapped two of the silver shillings in a handkerchief and put them in the pocket of my dress. In the other pocket was the sharpened quill. I let it be.
I put my weight on my foot and groaned with pain. “Dangnabit!” I fumed. There was no chance that I could walk a mile on it. I was there, and there I must stay.
I got my book of poetry from the dresser, went back to the living room, and settled at the table. But even Lord Byron could not keep my attention.
I studied Lamb. Would he allow me to explore Raven’s Roost if I kept away from their room?
There was not much to the house.
My aunt Minnie kept a clean and tidy home. The grate had been shined, the mantel dusted, the floor scrubbed. The table where we’d eaten gleamed, as did the heavy silver candlestick in its center. The violin was propped against the far wall. There was a door at the back of the kitchen.
Lamb did not move as I opened it and peered in.
There were heavy waterproof boots, waterproof coats, two oars, a rolled-up canvas that might have been a small sail. A saddle—not a sidesaddle, bridle, and reins hung on a peg.
Praise be!
With difficulty, I dragged the saddle outside and went back for the bridle and reins.
Lamb paid no heed.
The horse stood quietly as I put the saddle and bridle on him and fixed the reins.
“What is your name?” I whispered to him. “Do you have a name?”
In this strange place, I would not have been startled if he’d answered. I shook my head. Such nonsensical thinking would only deter me from my mission.
“I will call you Dobbin,” I said. “Is that all right?”
With difficulty, I got my uninjured foot into the stirrup and was on.
“Go, Dobbin!” I whispered.
He walked slowly through the wooden gateposts. I knew I should push the gate closed again, but I was in a hurry to be gone. “Stay!” I told the hens that were huddled under a lean-to shelter. If they wandered and became lost, I suspected I would be in great trouble. For that, and for taking the horse without permission.
The horse and I ambled along the road I’d come on last night. There was no way to hasten him, but it did not matter. My aunt and uncle would not be back till the tide turned, and that would be much later.
I was accustomed to riding sidesaddle. But I was quite comfortable. What a pretty sight I must look, I thought, with my dress raised, my pantaloons exposed on either side of Dobbin’s back, my bedraggled stockings, no bonnet on my head to save my skin and to tame my curls, no gloves to cover my hands. Not correct attire for a young lady. How Eli Stuart would smile at my concern with modesty! Thanks be that he couldn’t see me.
I could still hear the sea, and my lips tasted of salt.
When I twisted around in the saddle and looked back, I could see Raven’s Roost and several other houses jumbled along Brindle Point. I could see the house among the trees where Eli lived.
My mind suddenly filled with him. His blue-green eyes, his smile, which I had seen only twice but remembered with such vividness, it made me gasp. What ailed me? Why was I so beset with thoughts of him?
Which house was Daphne’s? Daphne who pined for him? Was she beautiful?
“Go, Dobbin,” I said. “Go quickly so I have no time to think or wonder. Carry me to Brindle.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I SAW THE VILLAGE IN THE distance, and as we got closer, I
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