Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

“Oh, Tabby, please—just saddle Silkie for me. We need to hurry. If we don’t escape I shall be undone!”

There was no denying the note of desperation in his lady’s voice. He had mounted Myriah on her first pony. He had served her as he had served and adored her mother, but he was not beneath putting a spoke in her wheel to save her from herself. He hesitated. “First you best tell me what’s got you running.”

“Papa means to marry me to Sir Roland … He is in a temper, Tabby, and there is no gainsaying him. I must go to Grandpapa.”

“That won’t serve, m’lady. It’ll set up your father’s bristles, it will.”

“If you care for me, get my horse, Tab—please!” Then, with a bit more authority, she added, “Now—or I shall do it myself.” Myriah was out of patience.

Tabson grumbled but disappeared into the darkness while Myriah fidgeted, fearing her father’s explosion on the scene. Perhaps he would not realize for a time, but then he would send up a maid to fetch her, and then … her absence would be reported, and he would have to say she had gone to bed ill.

In what seemed interminable but was actually a short time, Tabby returned with his lady’s horse and a saddled roan for himself.

“Tabby, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I be going wit ye! Not the devil ’imself could stop me!” announced her groom as he watched her cinch her saddle in place and hoist herself nimbly onto her horse.

She laughed. “Now, Tabby, I have to tell you that you should fear my powers a bit more than the devil’s.” She laughed again and added, “I’ve a notion to let you come—so be it!”

She flung him a purse containing a tidy sum and led the way, cooing to her glossy, quiet stallion as she urged him onto the cobbled street. His ears flicked at the sound of her voice. A breeze caressed her cheeks, and Myriah laughed a wild, unbridled laugh. She was free—at least for the moment.

Two

AS THEY PICKED their way through the narrow streets toward Charing Cross, Myriah’s eyes were bright with excitement. Even the thought that London at this time of night was not safe for a well-armed man, let alone a young woman, could not disturb her spirits.

“’Tis a wild ride we ’ave ahead of us, m’lady,” Tabson said sourly.

“Ain’t it grand, Tab? Imagine! Riding on the open road with not a soul to say us nay!”

“Humph … providing no bridle-cull spots us,” returned the groom pessimistically.

“And if he does, we’ll give him our trinkets and be on our way—’tis nothing!” said the lady, snapping her finger for emphasis and laughing at the thought of such an escapade.

A company of merry gentlemen stumbled out of a tavern singing quite loudly, out of tune and not at all concerned with this deficiency. They spotted Myriah and called out robustly for her to stop awhile. She chuckled but kept up her proud chin, urging her horse to move at a faster pace.

“Humph!” grumbled Tabby. At last they reached the toll-gate. After watching Tabby attend to the fee, Myriah gave her horse his head. They bounded forward in rhythm with one another, and Myriah’s restlessness lost itself in speed. How she loved riding freely.

Tabby caught up after some effort and called to his mistress to slow her horse into a canter. “Don’t be all hell and fire, m’lady … leastways not in the dark! Ye’ll be planting yerself in some rut or other and giving that stallion ye say ye love so much a strained fetlock!”

She laughed but did indeed ease her spirited horse into a slower gait. After the docile rides in Hyde Park, this carefree exercise created euphoria, banishing Myriah’s concern.

Tabson felt it incumbent upon himself to bring his mistress to a sense of reality and dispel the sweetness of her fantasy with his gruff practicality. “’Twill not serve, m’lady, and well ye know.”

“Hush, Tab, I won’t have you growling at me.” Myriah laughed.

“Growl, is it?” said the man, sticking out his lower lip. “And what will ye be calling it when yer papa bowls down upon us at Guildford House?”

Myriah sighed, and a slight crease marred her brow. “Oh dear … he will do so, I suppose.”

“Hang me if he doesn’t! Then what will ye say? Fine set-to there will be!”

“Oh, Tabby, I never thought of that. Papa will be angry to be sure, but he and grandpapa are good friends …”

“Humph! Lord Guildford will take your side in the matter, and it’s plain as pikestaff yer papa is bound to take umbrage. A rare set-to there will be!” grumbled the elderly man.

Myriah’s frown deepened. “Oh, Tab, you are taking too doleful a look at the whole thing. I shall fix things up right and tight. See if I don’t!”

To this her groom had little to say. However, he continued to mumble incoherently. Myriah lost her patience and moved her horse forward, leaving Tab some distance behind her.