His eyes fluttered but then they shut again. “Hold on to me, Max. Hold on to me. Rest your head on the back of my shoulder.”

She felt him do what she had directed. She felt the weight of his head rest against her right shoulder and his hands tighten their grasp around her waist. “Hold on to me, Max. Hold on to me.”

There was still no sight of the carriage or of Mr. Cortland.

Her mind was racing. Why would Colin have done something so evil, stepped into the freezing pond with Max. But then she realized that might not have been what had happened. . . . Although she wasn’t sure what she was imagining could even be true.

The few automobiles visible parked on the street were strangely old-fashioned. The street lamps looked different. London is full of cameras posted on traffic lights but she didn’t see any as they sped by, not that she’d noticed any traffic lights either. The few lights visible from inside the houses were dim, muted, and often flickering as if some of them were candlelit. But she reasoned, it was late, and probably a lot of people had gone to sleep. She let her hands go slack on the reins and Comet took it as a sign and slowed down almost to a walk.

Tess leaned in and stroked the horse’s mane. It was cold and stiff and dusted with ice. She tried for a moment to untangle it.

She whispered into Comet’s ear, “You know the way. My hands are on the reins in case you need me. I know you know the way home.”

She remembered what Adele had said, “You’re the only one who can put him back on solid ground.” Is that what she’d just done or was trying to do now?

Tess made the clicking sound the same way Mr. Cortland had and without a hint of Tess pulling the reins in one direction or another, Comet turned to the left and began, at a trot at first, and then faster, speeding them along the oddly dimly lit London cobblestoned streets.

Tess hadn’t remembered that all the streets had been cobblestoned when they went out with Aunt Evie. Maybe it was just that there were cobblestones by the park. Part of London had cobblestones, like the outdoor market at Covent Garden. But Tess remembered the distinct sound from earlier that night, as if all the streets were cobblestoned, and Comet’s hoofbeats made their own syncopated rhythm, faster and faster still, against the cobblestoned street.

Comet made another left turn again so quickly that they were in danger of falling off. Tess righted both of them. “Hold on to me!! Hold on.”

Comet continued to race so swiftly that it was somewhere beyond a canter. Then Comet made another left turn.

At which point the street looked vaguely familiar. Had she seen these houses before?