The Clockwork Wolf by Lynn Viehl

Author:Lynn Viehl
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Pocket Books

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Borrowing Mr. Cartwright’s horse to ride to the Hill required me to bargain with his wife. Already annoyed by the ice spell that had frozen over most of her garden, she extracted as much as she could from me without physically removing any of my teeth.

“So you’ll replace all me flowers, sit with the children for our anniversary dinner next month, and run me market errands for a fortnight.” She switched her drooling little Oscar from one broad hip to the other as she frowned. “I don’t know, Miss Kittredge. Women aren’t supposed to go riding about, particularly after dark. If anything happens to that horse me husband’ll kill me after you. He might be a foreman but he’s not all that clever, so they’ll catch him and he’ll hang for the murders, and then who’ll raise our little Oscar?”

“If it comes to that you can always say I stole Daisy,” I suggested. “You’ll live, I’ll go to prison, and your husband won’t kill anyone. Little Oscar keeps both his parents.”

That seemed to mollify her. “I suppose.” She held out the stable key. “You’ll have to go and saddle her yourself; I’ve got to put me boy in the tub now—and you’ll bring her back before midnight, when my husband’s shift at the factory ends, promise.”

“He’ll never know I borrowed it,” I assured her.

I walked to the end of the block where the neighborhood horses were stabled, and walked back to the community stalls. Daisy gave me a placid look as I unlocked the latch and took down her saddle and bridle.

“I brought you a bribe, too,” I told her as I took the oatcake from my reticule and fed it to her. “Don’t mind my skirts, and I won’t make you gallop.”

Once I had her saddled I gathered up my gown and used the slats of the stall to climb up high enough to mount her. The old mare swung her head round to eye me but didn’t object, and I led her out at a slow walk through the back of the stable.

The cool night air seemed to perk up Daisy, who shuffled into a lazy trot as I guided her down the back streets. Not having the weight of the Cartwrights and their brood and buggy to pull might have cheered her, too. It was only as we approached the road to the Hill that she slowed; the Cartwrights had never driven her near it.

I gave her some encouraging pats. “No worries, my gel, we’ve an old friend of mine to call on tonight.”

I deliberately rode past the avenue leading to Bestly House and continued on until I reached a sparkling pink manor. On the walkway at the side of the great house a slim figure dressed in a dark cloak waved for me to follow, and led us back to the matching carriage house where a servant waited.

“Good evening, Miss Kittredge.” Lady Diana Walsh pulled back her hood to nod at the footman, who opened the door and helped me to dismount before taking Daisy inside.

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