Page 41 of The Devil's Pawn

After the car disappears down the driveway, I call Maisie, pretending I need Alexander for something. When she tells me he’s left for London and won’t be back until evening, I grin. Perfect. After showering in record time, I dress in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and boots. It’s not the best attire, but it’ll have to do until I can organize some proper riding gear. I still have Alexander’s credit card, so maybe I will buy something for myself next time, too.

Leaving my phone in my room in case he returns unexpectedly and wants to stalk me again, I jog down the stairs to the first floor without bumping into a soul. The morning sun hits my face, and I tilt my head back and close my eyes, soaking up the rays. The heat here differs from California, but I’ll take it. From what I’ve read, English winters are a combination of wet and cold, with the occasional dumping of snow thrown in. Not that it matters to me. I’ll be long gone before the start of winter. I need Alexander to kick me out by fall if I’m to stand a chance of taking up my position with Zenith.

Even though I haven’t been here all that long, I’m so homesick and lonely I could cry. But like Saskia said to me, I have to make the most of the time I’m here, and getting on horseback again is a good place to start, especially knowing Alexander won’t turn up and spoil my fun after using his stalking methods to find me. If he tracks my phone, it will only lead him to my bedroom.

The stable block is buzzing with people when I arrive, and it takes me a little while to spot Will in a fenced-off area, lunging a beautiful, dappled gray stallion.

I wander over, expecting someone to stop me and send me back to the house, but no one gets in my way. Not that I’d obey them if they tried. As much as I dislike the idea of using the “Don’t you know who I am?” phrase, if it gets me what I want, I will.

I lean on the wooden fence and watch Will at work. He’s so focused on his task, he doesn’t spot me until he brings the stallion to a halt.

“Hi!” I wave and beckon him over.

He leads the stallion over to where I’m standing, his gaze flitting to the stable block before returning to me. “What can I do for you, Imogen?”

“I thought we might have our first riding lesson.” Alexander appeared before Will could make the offer to teach me, but I know he was about to.

“Bit difficult considering I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

My eyes widen. “Says who?”

“My boss, Mr. Osborne.”

And we all know who gave Mr. Osborne that instruction, don’t we? I rub my lips together, clenching and flexing my fingers. Alexander isdead.Dead.

“But,” Will continues, “I never have been all that good at following orders.”

I break into a grin. “I don’t want you getting in trouble on my account.”

“I can take care of myself.” He opens the gate and leads the stallion through, closing it behind him. “No point in drawing unnecessary attention, though.” He points to a field behind the stable block. “See that paddock?”

“Yes.”

“Walk through there. On the other side, behind that line of trees, there’s another paddock. Wait for me. I’ll bring a horse to you.”

“Are you sure?”

“You giving me a way out?” He cocks his head. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

About fifteen minutes later, Will appears, leading a docile-looking mare with four white socks and a thick white blaze that runs from her forehead to her muzzle toward me.

“This is Lottie.” He lowers the stirrups. “She’ll do right by you.”

By that he means she’s unlikely to bolt or buck and throw me off, and while I can handle a spirited horse, that saddle looks awfully easy to fall from. It’s probably for the best that I start off with a calm mount.

“Thank you, Will. I mean it.”

He nods curtly. “Here, give me your foot. I’ll give you a leg up.”

Once I’m in the saddle, it’s not as scary as I feared, but when I tug on the reins, Lottie unexpectedly backs up several feet, and I almost lose my balance.

“Whoa, careful.” Will snaps out a hand, taking hold ofthe reins and bringing Lottie to a stop. “Gentle with her mouth.”

He spends the next thirty minutes sharing how riding English style differs from what I’ve been used to, positioning my legs and hands in the right places, and showing me how I have to rise and fall in a trot. By the time he releases me and lets me ride solo, I’m away, Lottie is responding well, and I even manage a short canter.

I can’t stop smiling. I’ve missed this. College took up so much of my time that something had to give, and for me, that something was horseback riding. Given what a waste my degree might turn out to be if I end up stuck here, I sometimes wonder why I bothered, or why my parents encouraged me to attend in the first place. It’s the reason I haven’t picked up my drawing pad since I arrived. It’s too painful.

I stop the despondent thought in its tracks. Iwilluse my degree. As soon as I’m free I’ll be able to join Zenith and begin my life as it should have been.

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