Page 43 of Charmless
Miss Upton?
I swallowed, concealing my dismay. “I just wanted to know what happened to Tom Piper. The warder says all the cells are empty.”
“That’s right. I have the boy chained in my private dungeon.”
“What! You told me you didn’t have a dungeon.”
“I took your advice and built one.”
“I was only jesting and how could you manage to build one so quickly?”
“For frap’s sake, Ella!” Horatio’s cold façade cracked, revealing his exasperation with me. “Did you really think I was going to lock that boy up? I was tempted to, especially when I could not get him to confess what he had done. Although it was against my better judgment, I gave him a stern lecture and sent him on his way.”
My relief was mixed with remorse for having misjudged Horatio so badly. “I am sorry if I misunderstood. But when you hauled Tom away, you looked so angry. You still do. What did you expect him to confess? Do you think he really was picking pockets?”
“No. From what I know of young Mr. Piper, he is a canny lad, too clever to risk putting his hand into a wealthy citizen’s pocket for any reason. The disturbance he created struck me as being rather too convenient. I suspected he might have been paid to cause an uproar should it become necessary.”
“Necessary for what?” I asked but I feared I already knew the answer.
“Necessary to facilitate the escape of a certainold man.”Horatio said, laying sarcastic emphasis on the last two words. Before I could reply, he added, “Since you all but tackled me to make sure your good friend Hawkridge got away, please don’tinsult me by pretending you don’t know what I am talking about.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I replied. “But I am sure you are wrong about Mal paying Tom to create a distraction. Mal would never put the boy at such risk.”
“Why not? Hawkridge certainly never seems to mind risking you.”
“Mal does notriskme.” I protested. “I am quite capable of making my own choices.”
“You tend to make some cursed bad ones where that man is concerned.”
I flinched beneath Horatio’s steely gaze, that stolen orb weighing upon my mind. But the more time that passed since the ball, the more I began to believe that Mal and I had gotten away with the theft. Since by rights that orb did belong to Mal, I did not regret what I had done.
“If Hawkridge is as honorable as you claim, why is he skulking around in disguise to avoid me?” Horatio demanded.
“Mal is mostly trying to avoid all those women dissatisfied with his love potion. He is aware that you want to ask questions about the break-in at the Aura Chamber. I advised him to come and see you to clear his name, but he doesn’t trust you.”
“Evidently, neither do you. Now if you will excuse me, I have an important matter to attend.” Horatio executed a curt bow. As he stalked away from me, I hugged myself, feeling miserable.
I wanted to follow him, but I hesitated. Mal’s wise old grandmother had once advised me, “When your man is in a rage, my dear, best leave him alone to cool down. No good ever comes from trying to scold or cajole him out of his temper fit.”
Granny Hawkridge would have good cause to know, her husband being of an irascible nature. But when Horatio had walked away from me, I had glimpsed a flash of pain beneathhis anger. I had obviously hurt him deeply and I could not let matters rest thus between us.
I hurried after him out the door leading to the yard behind Quad Hall. His long legs propelled him far quicker than I could move, hampered by my petticoats. By the time I closed the distance between us, Horatio had already vanished inside the stables.
The Midtown Garrison was not a mounted unit like the Heights Scutcheons or the palace guards. Our local stable was a low-slung building, capable of housing no more than four horses. It was not difficult to find Horatio once I slipped inside the barn. The stable might have been small, but it was a well-kept facility, smelling of fresh hay and horse.
All the stalls were empty except for the largest one which held Horatio’s magnificent roan gelding. He leaned into the stall, stroking the horse’s mane and it responded by lipping playfully at his sleeve. Horatio had a magical way with horses, and I had had many occasions to observe the bond between him and the gelding appropriately named Loyal.
Loyal was responsive to Horatio’s slightest command as if the two of them thought and moved as one. The gelding appeared to sense its master’s dark mood and sought to comfort him. As Horatio rested his brow against Loyal’s neck, the horse nuzzled Horatio and emitted a low whickering. I imagined the gelding was trying to tell him that women were more trouble than they were worth and the only one a man could really depend upon was his horse.
I felt oddly intrusive and might have retreated but Loyal detected my presence, pricking his ears. Horatio noticed my approach as well but chose to ignore me. I ventured close enough to rest my hand against his back.
“I am sorry,” I murmured.
For a moment Horatio remained rigid beneath my touch and then his shoulders relaxed. When he came about to face me, there was no lingering anger in his eyes, only a deep sadness.
“I am sorry, too,” he said, gathering me into his arms. I buried my face against his chest and felt him brush a kiss against my hair.
“Oh, Ella,” he groaned. “Why could you not have even a little bit of faith in me? Why did you feel that you had to kiss that prince to save Tom? You should know me well enough not to imagine I would be capable of so harshly punishing a child. Do I seem like such an ogre to you?”
