The Wicked Deeds of Daniel Mackenzie

Angelo boosted Daniel onto the horse’s back. Daniel looked very English in his black coat and tall hat, his feet in polished boots resting quietly in the stirrups.

Angelo caught Violet around the waist and lifted her onto the horse in front of Daniel. Violet was seated on the pommel, sidesaddle, Daniel’s arms coming around her to take up the reins. His body cut the wind, which was still knifelike with winter.

The family waved them off. The horse, in spite of her fearsome Gorgon name, moved placidly along the path that led from the stable yard down to the canal. One of the newer dogs, Mars, followed, ignoring Daniel’s admonishment that he remain behind.

Violet looked down past her boots and the horse’s formidable shoulder to the grasses passing far below. “We’re an awfully long way from the ground.”

Daniel chuckled behind her. “This from a woman who ascended more than a thousand feet in a balloon.”

“That was different. A balloon isn’t a live animal. How can she hold us?”

“By weighing fifteen hundred pounds and being mighty strong. We’re nothing to her. Give her a pat. She likes that.”

Violet reached down and tentatively stroked the mare’s neck under her mane. Medusa was warm, her coat shaggy with winter growth. She shook her head a little and walked faster.

“She likes you,” Daniel said. “Again.”

Violet patted her. “Nice horse. Nice Medusa.”

Medusa’s head bobbed, and she made a low noise in her throat.

“See that?” Daniel transferred the reins to one hand and closed his other arm about Violet’s waist. “We’ll make you a horsewoman yet.”

Daniel turned them onto the towpath that ran alongside the canal. Even in the cold, canal boats moved west, large horses pulling the barges. A few barges were steam driven, but most still had horses.

This was the Kennet and Avon Canal, Ainsley had told her, which nearly a hundred years ago had carried tons of goods from the Thames at Maidenhead to the Avon. Trains had made the slow canal boats a less desirable method of transporting cargo, but boats still ran.

Daniel said cheerful hellos to the men leading the barge horses, tipping his hat as he rode past.

“Now then, Young Master Mackenzie,” one called. “How does your father do?” Mars ran among them, seeking pats from bargemen’s children, before he loped after Daniel and Violet again.

The boats dropped behind. Daniel rode across a bridge over one of the canal’s locks and south, winding into more remote country. Hedgerows separated fields, and the roads between the hedges dipped, shutting out everything but green walls and sky.

Daniel navigated Medusa along a meadow path until they reached a little copse under the ledge of a hill. The copse cut the wind, which had prevented them speaking much since they’d left the canal.

“The other reason I wanted to ride out here with you was to be alone with you,” Daniel said. “I love my family, but every time ye turn about, there’s another one tugging at your sleeve.”

“I like it,” Violet said. The way the Mackenzies included her in everything had unclenched something inside her she hadn’t realized was tight.

“Aye, but there’s no privacy.”

Daniel slid his feet from the stirrups, but he made no move to dismount. Medusa stretched her neck toward the nearest tree, tearing off a clump of foliage between large teeth. Mars trotted off to investigate something in the brush.

“I thought ye might not want them all listening in when I told you a few things,” Daniel said. “I had some telegrams this morning, answers to inquiries I’d made.”

Violet froze in the act of patting Medusa again and turned to look at him. Daniel’s eyes were quiet, all teasing gone. “What inquiries?” Violet asked sharply.

“About Jacobi.” Daniel paused. “I found him, Vi. He’s still alive, and in Paris.”

Chapter 26

Daniel watched Violet stiffen, the contented light vanishing from her eyes. “What do you mean, you found him?”

“Should say I more or less found him. I thought we’d discover he’d died, as you’d supposed, but he’s in Paris . . . somewhere. Pinning him down is tricky, because he’s slippery, but we’ll get him. I also had inquiries made about the marriage.” Daniel gentled his voice. “It was legal, Vi. Still is. He hasn’t ended it.”

Violet’s chest rose. “No?”

“But I have solicitors on it, to see how we can get you free.”

Violet closed her eyes briefly, fighting something inside her. When she opened her eyes again, her face was pale under the brim of her fetching black hat.

“Jacobi is Catholic,” she said. “He might not agree to divorce or even annulment under any circumstance. Perhaps I should leave it alone. I’d rather let him think me dead or too far away to bother about.”

“Ye need to be free of him,” Daniel said sternly. “I thought you’d want to be.”

“I do.” Her eyes flickered with fear and remembered pain. “But if there’s a battle . . . I’m not strong enough for a battle just now. I’ve only found my breath in the last few days.”

“Violet . . .” Daniel caught her around the waist, gently sliding her down from the horse. “Let’s talk on the ground.”

Violet landed with a light thump, and Daniel swung down after her. Medusa wandered away in search of grass, but Daniel knew she wouldn’t go far. She was placid, she liked her warm stall in the barn with her friends, and she’d not run off.