I swallowed, caught up my breath, and schooled my features into that of a well-bred maiden who would have no association or attachment to Edric Sharp.

Then I turned in the saddle and met the ratlike eyes of the Marquess of Grisdale.

4

“Lord Grisdale.” My pulse thrashed in my ears as I bowed my head in feigned respect.

“Delighted, Benedicta. And perplexed.” He nudged his steed alongside the one I’d stolen. “I sent the king’s men to search for a horse thief and look what I’ve found.”

I followed his gaze to the uniformed men who were shackling my father’s unconscious body in the cart.

Everything inside me burned to shout, scream, leap for the cutlass, and run it through every soldier who put their hands on him. But I pushed down the rage, the bone-deep terror, and relaxed the muscles in my face.

The brigade marched off the beach with my father in tow, leaving me powerless to stop it. But there would be a trial. I had a day, maybe two, to signal Jade. My father’s loyal crew would assist me in his rescue.

“What have you found, my lord?” My gaze clung to the retreating cart.

“Why, that’s the infamous Edric Sharp.” Bony fingers curled around my upper arm. “And this is my stolen horse.”

“You’re quite right.” I watched the last soldier leave the beach and turned my attention to the marquess.

He was a twiggy stick of a man with a face like day-old death hanging loosely from sharp bones. If his beady brown eyes sat any closer together, they would’ve crossed at the bridge.

He tucked his weak chin into the cravat at his neck as if attempting to hide that hideous feature. A cane dangled by a loop from one of the buttons on his justacorps. No traces of lint flecked the red brocade. Not a mote of dirt on the white stockings over his breeches. Not even a smudge on his buckled shoes.

But his lordship was sweating. Beads glistened upon his wrinkled brow and dripped from his high-parted periwig.

Not even the Marquess of Grisdale could escape Carolina’s heat. His blood gave him power and privilege, but he was still a mere mortal like the rest of us. He sweated. He pissed. And he bled.

“You confess to stealing my horse?” His hand tightened around my arm.

“Yes, my lord. I was anxious about meeting you and went for a ride to calm my nerves.”

“Virtuous girls bred to proper living don’t take rides into the wild alone. Imagine what would’ve happened had I not tracked you. I daresay you might have been ravaged by a pirate!”