She clambered to her feet, got moving again, no longer concerned about keeping out of view. Holding to the grass, she pushed hard with her legs, her arms churning. She had no idea where the lane would lead her, but for now it was her only choice. A sweeping turn ahead, perhaps she could find a gap in the hedge and lose herself there. She rounded the corner and skidded to a halt, her feet sliding out from under her, landing on her back.

A few feet in front of her, a dozen or more cattle blocked the lane, brown and white, stout barrel bodies, heavy on their feet. Startled by her appearance, the first few tried to back away, pushing against those behind. A low chorus of mooing and huffing, and a man’s voice above.

“Easy, now, easy, easy.”

George, the younger brother, came behind them, a long cane in his hand, swiping at the cows’ backsides. He froze when he saw Esther get back to her feet, alarm on his face.

Esther hesitated, staring back, both of them locked in place for a moment before she spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction. Or she would have if not for the wall of a man whose chest she collided with. Once more, she fell back to the earth, winded. Thomas blocked what little sunlight the clouds allowed through, and she felt the deep chill of his shadow.

“What’s all this, now?” he asked, his voice gentle.

Esther went to raise her right hand, the knife’s handle gripped hard between her fingers, but his boot slammed down on her wrist, grinding it into the earth. She screamed as much from anger as from pain.

“Whisht, now,” he said, reaching down to pluck the knife from her hand. “Settle yourself.”

He brought the blade to her throat. She felt the cold of it beneath her jaw, the tip pressing into her skin. A hair more pressure and it would draw blood.

“If you’re going to give us trouble,” Thomas said, “it’d be better to just put an end to it now. Save us all a lot of bother, wouldn’t it?”

The mooing and shuffling of hooves grew, the cattle becoming agitated. They smelled her fear and wanted to flee, she could tell.

“Just let me go,” Esther said. “Please, I’ll say nothing to—”

Thomas lifted the blade from her throat, brought it to her eye, the flat of it against her cheek. She dared not blink.

“You know,” he said, “if I blinded you, you could still be some use about the place. What do you think? I could take your eyes. I could take your tongue so you couldn’t talk back. How would that do you?”

“Please, no,” Esther said, and her bladder ached for release.

“Or are you going to behave yourself?”