Then Came You (The Gamblers #1)(13)

“An accident,” one of his friends said quietly. “Unseated. I knew when she fell—”

“Get a doctor,” Alex said hoarsely.

“Alex, it’s no use.”

“Damn you, get a doctor or I’ll—”

“Her neck was broken by the fall.”

“No—”

“Alex, she’s dead…”

His groom’s voice abruptly recalled him to the present. “My lord?”

Alex blinked and focused his gaze on the shining chestnut gelding, chosen for its combination of power and suppleness. Taking the reins, he mounted the horse easily and glanced across the clearing. Lily Lawson was chatting and smiling with the other riders. To look at her, one would never guess there had been a confrontation between them.

The pack of foxhounds were set loose, covering the field with their frantic snuffling. Then a scent was found. “Reynard is out!” came the call as a fox broke cover. A rich note pierced the air as the master blew the horn and the riders set out on the chase.

The hunters rode to the copse in a fever of exultation, shouting madly. The field fairly shook under the onslaught of horses and dogs, hooves tearing at the ground, eager cries renting the air.

“Gone away!”

“Tallyho!”

“Halloo!”

As the congregation spurred their mounts onward, the hunt took on the expected formation, the huntsman riding close to the foremost hounds, the whippers-in following the dogs and keeping the occasional stragglers in pace with the pack. Lily Lawson rode like a woman possessed, rushing at the highest obstacles and taking them as if she had wings. She seemed to have no concern for her own safety. Usually Alex would have ridden ahead with the others, but for now he held back. He was driven to follow Lily, watching her take suicidal chances. The course was filled with noise and revelry, while Alex went through a living nightmare. His horse strained over the jumps, hooves biting into the ground with every surge. Caroline… Long ago he had closed it all away, stored every recollection in the back of his mind. But he had no defense against the thoughts that came without warning, the feel of Caroline’s mouth beneath his, her silky hair in his hands, the sweet torment of holding her close. She had taken away a part of him that would never be restored.

You fool, he told himself savagely. He was making the hunt into a macabre reprise of his past. A fool chasing after lost dreams…and still he followed Lily, watching her leap through gaps and over reinforced hedges. Although she did not look back, he sensed that she knew he was there. They rode for nearly an hour, crossing from one county to another.

Lily spurred her horse onward in determination, her nerves crackling with excitement. She had never cared much for the end of a hunt, being in at the kill, but the riding…oh, there was nothing like it. Gleefully she approached a towering “double oxer,” a quickthorn braced on each side with an ox rail. In a split second she realized it was too high and too much of a risk to take, but some devilish urge impelled her forward. At the last moment, the palfrey refused to jump. The arrested motion of the horse threw Lily out of the saddle.

The world seemed to spin, and she was suspended in mid-air. Then the ground came rushing up at her. Shielding her face with her hands, Lily felt her body slam into the mossy earth. The breath was forced from her lungs. Writhing on the ground, she gasped for air, while her hands clutched reflexively around bits of leaves and mud.

Dazedly she felt herself being turned and her shoulders lifted. Opening her mouth, she fought to pull in air. Red and black danced before her eyes. Slowly the mist cleared away to reveal a face above her. Raiford. The golden glow of his skin was infused with ashen gray. Lily stirred against him, discovering that she was held securely in the lee of his muscular thighs. She was as limp and helpless as a doll.

Her br**sts rose and fell rapidly as she tried to regain her breath. His hand was tight on the back of her neck…too tight…hurting her…

“I told you not to hunt,” Raiford snarled. “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

Lily made a small sound, looking up at him with hazy confusion. There was blood on his collar, a splotch of scarlet from the wound she had given him earlier. His hand was powerful on her neck. If he chose, he could snap her bones if they were twigs. Lily was aware of the weight and sinew of him, the sheer power lodged within his body. There was a primitive expression on his flushed face, a mixture of hatred and something else she couldn’t identify. Through the roaring of her ears, she thought she heard a name…Caroline…

“You’re a madman,” she gasped. “Good God. You belong in Bedlam. Wh-what’s going on? Do you know who in the hell I am? Get your hands off me, do you hear?”

Her words seemed to bring him back to awareness of what he was doing. The murderous gleam left his eyes, and the contorted shape of his mouth softened. Lily sensed an enormous tension leaving his body. He dropped her abruptly, as if the touch of her had burned him.

Falling back among the leaves and dirt, Lily watched with a glare as he stood up. He did not reach down a hand to assist her, but he did wait until she struggled to her feet. Assured that no serious harm had come to her, he hoisted himself onto his horse.

Finding that her knees were weak, Lily braced herself against a tree. She would wait until she felt stronger before mounting her palfrey again. Curiously she stared at Raiford’s expressionless face. She took a few steadying breaths. “Penny is too good for you,” she managed to say. “Before I was afraid you would only make her miserable. Now I believe you’ll cause her bodily harm!”