Then, he was on his dark gelding and away, riding with the tails of his coat streaming behind him like the wings of the dark beast.

Jane stood at the door, hand pressed against her breast to stop the pounding of her heart. He would kill Captain Livingston, or die trying; she was quite certain of that. Jane turned to the footman to whom Mr. Dunkirk had given his order regarding her. “Will you saddle a horse for me?”

He bowed correctly, asking no questions, and within a span of ten minutes, Jane was faced with the Dunkirk’s grey mare. The hostler had evidently taken measure of her and known she was no horsewoman.

Another time she would have blessed him, but now she craved speed, not a nursemaid. She urged the horse down the sweep in the wake of Mr. Dunkirk, with no more notion of how she would catch him than of what she would do when she caught up.

Twenty-four

Duels and Deals

Jane bounced in the saddle, slamming against the hard leather and driving home every ache, every fatigue she had gained from her night out-of-doors. The mare could not sustain a gallop for long, so Jane was forced to endure walking her in the midst of her urgency. The countryside rolled past with all the haste of a Saturday picnic.

When Jane judged it safe, she pressed the horse to a gallop again. Noon passed, and she had seen no sign of any of her family, only a farmer on his way to town.

Then, a lone rider rode toward her. Jane’s heart rose, hoping that it was Mr. Dunkirk and that he had changed his mind, but the man had neither the coloring nor the bearing.

“Why, Miss Ellsworth, is it?” As he neared her, she recognized Mr. Buffington, the loathed man from Lady FitzCameron’s party. He doffed his hat on seeing her and turned his horse to accompany hers. “This is a surprize. I had understood that you were unwell.”

“No. As you see, I am not.” She gave him a moment of courtesy, though she paid no heed to her own words. When the barest minimum of forms were observed, Jane said, “Did you perchance pass Lady FitzCameron on the road?”

“I did at that. I must say, I question my decision to quit Bath for the idle pleasures of Dorset. Quite the parade of notables has passed me by.”

“Whom else have you seen?” Jane asked, though she knew the answer. She wanted to know how far behind them she was.

“First the Viscountess, and then not half an hour after that, I crossed paths with Miss Dunkirk, then Mr. Dunkirk. And I have just passed your family, who alone among the folks I have seen today seem intent on returning from Bath. Who is behind you?”

“The devil, I’m afraid, Mr. Buffington.” She pressed the mare forward. That her father had succeeded in turning her mother back from Bath was a small blessing. She had no notion of what would happen when she passed them, given what Mr. Ellsworth must have said about her illness. “If you will excuse me.”