Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

“ H elp!” Miss Pembleton’s scream seemed to pierce Luke’s heart.

“I should never have allowed this.” Luke cursed and wheeled his horse around.

He had decided to remain a little apart from the main hunt, wanting to be able to keep an eye on his brother and Miss Pembleton. He had not wanted to encroach on their time, but nor had he felt entirely comfortable not being appraised of their whereabouts.

When the mist had thickened, he had lost sight of them for a moment, and in that moment, everything had gone wrong.

“If something has happened to her, I shall never forgive myself.” Luke urged his horse towards the last place he had seen Miss Pembleton and Rodger.

“Miss Pembleton! Rodger! Are you all right?” Luke called.

There was no answer. He heard more yelling. Was that her? Is it an echo? He shook his head, straining his ears and his eyes as he made his way towards his brother.

The mist was clearing, thankfully, and soon he found himself beside his slack-jawed brother. There was no sign of Miss Pembleton.

“What happened? Where is she?” Luke demanded.

Luke glanced around, hoping to see some sign of the woman. His heart thundered against his chest so hard he thought it would burst from it. Rodger was stammering something, but Luke could scarcely hear it over the rush of blood in his ears.

I must be calm. Calm. “What happened?” Luke took a steadying breath, trying to slow his pounding heart with a deep breath.

“I- we- I-… There was a bird.” Rodger gestured lamely.

“A bird?” Luke frowned.

“She was too close to the ravine, and then a bird flew out. Her horse… it startled.” Rodger shook his head, white as a ghost. “And then she- I- I- I did not know what to do. Her horse, it just started running.”

“Which way did she go?” Luke searched for signs of her, straining to catch perhaps even a hint of her black hair, of her horse even.

“I am not sure I cannot… It all happened so fast.” Rodger’s voice was high and Luke could hear the panic in it.

“Help!” The cry came again. He strained his ears. The sound of hunting and the faintness of the cries meant it was hard to pinpoint the direction Miss Pembleton’s horse had carried her. It is good I was not in the thick of things, I would not have known anything untoward had happened.

“I need you to think. Which way did she go?” Luke forced himself to sound calm, gritting his teeth with the effort.

“I- I- I.”

“Breathe, brother. Breathe and think. We need to find her and time is of the essence.” Luke met his brother’s panicked expression, and schooled his own features into one of icy detachment.

“That way.” Rodger pointed and Luke’s heart sank. The forest was thicker for a moment, and then led into a wide expanse. She could be anywhere.

“Well, with any luck she will not have gone too far.” Luke muttered, even as images of Miss Pembleton’s horse falling and – Do not think of it. Do not.

“What if something terrible has happened to her?” Rodger’s voice was thin and panicked.

“It will have if we do not find her.” Luke shot back.

“Then we must go after her.”

“You will go and tell Duke Emberly what has happened. The hunt must be stopped.” Luke shuddered.

Though the hunt was moving away, there was always a chance they might come across her. If she had fallen off her horse, they might not see her until it was too late.

“But I can help.” Rodger insisted.

“Go and tell Duke Emberly what has happened. I will find Miss Pembleton.” Luke oriented his horse in the direction his brother had pointed, searching for signs of a trail.

“But-”

“-Go!” Luke roared, his frustration and panic bubbling beyond his control.

He did not wait for a response, instead digging his heels into his horse’s flanks and leaving his brother behind. He moved through the underbrush, barely paying attention to the branches that lashed across his face.

“Miss Pembleton!” He yelled.

“Help!” The terrified sound of her voice filled his ears. “Please!”

“I am coming!” He followed the sound of her voice, searching for any sign of her as he and his horse made their way through the dense woods.

He thought he heard a sound in the distance, but he could not be certain. He looked at the ground, searching for some sign of her. There was nothing. He felt mingled relief and fear spread through him.

“If she is not here, then she is still on her horse. Perhaps she has even got it under control.” Luke muttered, wishing with every part of his soul that it were true.

He pushed through the underbrush into a thinner patch of woodland. For a moment he felt panic. Which way had she gone?

“Help!” A distant scream floated towards him.

“Miss Pembleton!” he yelled back. “Hold on, Miss Pembleton!”

His horse began to canter, he dared not urge it into a gallop. If she had fallen from her own horse, it would be too easy to- No! I will not think like that.

He cupped a hand around his mouth as he yelled. The sound echoed around him, but there was no sound in return.

His blood turned to ice. It felt as though there were a vice around his chest. He shook his head.

“Miss Pembleton! Damn it, Emily!” he shouted her name, frantically looking for any sign of her.

There was no answer. He slowed his horse to look at the foliage around him. He saw broken branches and hoof prints, but no sign that anyone had fallen. She is still on her horse. Or at least she was.

“She definitely came this way.” He muttered to himself, moving his horse in the direction of the trail.

They emerged into a clear field. The sun was dazzling after the dimly lit forest. He held a hand up to his face, shielding it. He had lost his hat, probably whipped off by a branch.

“Emily!” he shouted as loudly as he could.

Several birds scattered, his horse shied and he calmed it. But there was no shout in return. Prickles of fear swept across his spine, icy sweat trickling down his neck.

“Think. I need to think. If the horse was startled, it would have most likely continued in a straight line.” He nodded and steered his horse in the most likely direction. “Emily!” he called and in the distance, he heard the whinny of a horse.

He squinted and saw something moving in the distance. He began to canter towards it, reigning in his urge to gallop. As he closed the distance, he let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. It was a horse.

But where was its rider? He stopped beside it, taking its reigns in his hand. It was definitely her horse, but where was she ? With relief, he spotted a flash of red a short distance away.

Emily. She appeared to be leaning against some sort of rock. She must have fallen, she is probably just recovering her strength.

“Thank God!” He murmured, sliding from his own mount and moving towards the figure. “I should never have let you do this. I knew it was a foolish idea. That is the last time I let you do anything so foolhardy. I do not know what I was thinking, you could have been seriously hurt or worse!”

He’d meant to keep his voice low and calm, but his anger overtook his relief. “A lack of propriety is one thing, but risking your own safety is another. I do not doubt that you are a competent rider, but really a hunt is no place for a woman and this just proves it!”

He shook his head, as the shape of Miss Pembleton against the rock became clearer. “What? Do not tell me I have finally rendered you speechless?”

Only silence greeted him.

It was as though a hand made of ice held his heart. He squinted towards the figure of Miss Pembleton. She was sitting up, leaning against a rock. No, that was not right. Why was her arm at that angle?

He moved closer, willing the figure in red to say something. Anything. And then he realised: she was not resting against the rock, but crumpled over it.

She must have been thrown from the horse and hit the- Damn it! “Curse me for a fool!” The reins fell from his hand as he realised just how wrong he had been.

“Miss Pembleton? Emily!” he was running towards her, all anger replaced by blind panic.

She did not answer. “Emily!” he shouted.

Time seemed to slow as he reached her. Her eyes were closed, her face deathly pale. He was at her side in an instant. “Wake up! Open your eyes.” He lifted her into his arms and kneeled.

“Come on! Glare at me, scream at me, antagonize me! What would life be if you didn’t bite back?” he pleaded with her, his thumb tracing circles against her cheekbone.

He inspected her, only just stopping himself from shaking her in his fear. She was cold, her body limp and at an odd angle. He shook his head, willing her to wake up.

He searched her face for some sign of life, and then he saw it. Shining against the rock, trickling down the pale skin of her face and neck.

Blood.