Will felt silly as he kept his voice reasonable and steady. ‘I was chased from Southwark to Oxford Street.’
‘You’re lying. You’re lying to me. You’re lying to everyone. And tonight – you’re planning something. What?’
He thought about what he was riding towards. He had to get to Simon in time. Every moment that he spent here was delaying him further.
Logic wasn’t going to work, and nor was charm, and nor was reason. Very well.
‘Listen, you,’ he said. ‘Step out of my way, or before your sister has a chance to go home, I’ll tell all of London that she ran away unchaperoned.’ He saw her react to that, a sort of shocked hit. Her mouth dropped open, a child’s indignant betrayal at an unfair line of attack.
‘That – isn’t—’ She dug her heels in. ‘She didn’t run away for a man. She ran away because she learned Simon’s plans.’
‘I could tell Simon that instead, if you like,’ said Will steadily. ‘He’ll kill her.’
This drained the blood from her face. ‘He wouldn’t!’
‘He would. That’s why she ran. Now step back and let me through.’
He looked down at her pale, drawn face, expecting to be on his way now that this business was done. She stared up at him, obviously searching for a way around his ultimatum, her young mind working furiously.
‘I want to come with you.’
Christ. ‘You can’t and you won’t.’
‘I want to come with you. If you’re just going for a ride, you won’t mind company. I can take Nell.’
She lifted her chin. He opened his mouth to answer, found no words coming out, and saw the victorious flash in her eyes. He made himself breathe calmly.
‘I’m not just going for a ride—’
（‘I knew it!’）
‘—but what I’m doing doesn’t concern you. You’re going back to the gatekeep. And you’re not going to say a word about this to anyone.’
‘Or you’ll spoil my sister’s reputation.’
‘That’s right,’ said Will. ‘So if you want to save her, you’ll go write to your aunt and uncle and tell them that you and Katherine have ridden to stay with a female friend. They should tell everyone she’s sick, until she returns, which will be shortly. By then I’ll be gone.’
‘You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?’ said Elizabeth.
Her eyes glared at him, and he’d half braced himself for a new argument, but instead her mouth twisted and her small hands became fists.
‘All right,’ said Elizabeth. ‘But I’ll remember this. You might have fooled the others. You haven’t fooled me. I’ll find you out. Whatever it is you’re doing.’
It was almost sunset when he saw the first of the rising hills, the unsafe open hills topped with strange rocks. The landscape was like a blast of memory, the boggy, peaty smell of the earth and the difficulty of escape because the terrain was so open. Valdithar had covered in a night and a day what might have taken five times as long on a normal horse, and he was here almost before he was ready. Moving forward felt like forcing himself into a remembered nightmare, the desperation of that night, his stumbling steps and heaving breath, the fear as he pushed himself across stretches of open hillside.
There was a point at which he had to dismount, tie Valdithar in a clutch of trees, and go ahead on foot. He was close now, perhaps five or six miles.
The land here had no cover, only scraps of trees following the lines of the creeks, and occasional low drystone walls. Bushy clumps housed nesting grouse that would give him away if he disturbed them. He knew that too well. A thick bile rose in his throat as he began to recognise places from snatches of memory that night. There was the ditch where he’d dug himself a hiding hole. There was the rotting log where he’d stumbled and tripped. From the edge of the tree line he saw the thatched stone cottage where he had been stupid enough to try to go for help. He closed his eyes, remembering the way the door had swung open under his hand, the naiveté of his calling out, ‘Hello?’ and smiling in relief as he saw the man in the hallway, a second before he saw the streak of blood on the wall.
‘—something out here—’
His eyes flew open again. That was a voice, too close. He flattened himself behind a tree.
A second voice, harsh and low. ‘I heard something. If you keep your mouth shut, we might have half a chance to find out.’