Page 84 of An Uncommon Earl

“Open the door, if you please.” The groom ran ahead and pulled back the door. “Thank you, Tom,” she said, and with a touch of pressure to Aria’s flank, she rode outside.

Chapter 27

Light shone from the house. The housekeeper had placed a candle in each window, creating a beacon to guide Asher home. Beyond the house, however, darkness blanketed the grounds. Urging Aria forward, Jane held her lantern aloft, guiding the mare to the rear of the house, across the lawn, and into the orchard. She had thought long and hard whilst in the drawing room, trying to imagine which way Asher would go. They had only ever approached Bloxley Hall by road, but the orchard was the place the little boy knew best.

Keeping her head low to avoid the branches of the apple trees, Jane swung the lantern to and fro, studying the ground. The rain had turned the paths between the trees to mud. Hoofprints and footprints left by the searchers had churned it up further, making it impossible to know if a child had passed that way. Lanterns flickered between the distant trees, and occasionally, a man’s voice would call Asher’s name. The only response was the drip of water falling off the branches and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Turning away from the other lights, Jane veered left. It was not the fastest path to the pond, but Asher would not have known that.

“Asher!” she called. An owl took off from a nearby tree, gliding overhead like a silent specter. Jane shuddered. “Help me find him, Aria. Help me find him.”

Branches clawed at her as she rode past. She ignored them, her eyes remaining fixed on the ground and the dark shadows beyond the trees.

“Asher!” she called again.

Up ahead, a dark shape rose from the earth, blocking her view. Catching her breath, she tightened her grip on the reins, but Aria continued forward, seemingly unperturbed by the obstacle, and within a few seconds, Jane recognized the outline of a thick hedge. This must be the boundary between the Hadford and the Bloxley properties. Looking to the left and to the right, she could see no break in the bulky shadow.

“Which way, Aria? Which way?” Attempting to calm her rising panic, Jane tried to imagine what she would have done as a child. With only the intermittent moonlight to guide her, she would have followed the hedge in search of an opening.

There was more space for the horse on the right, so with a prayer in her heart, Jane turned Aria that way. Scouring the shrubs for a hole wide enough for a small child’s body, she continued riding alongside the hedge until she came upon a broken branch hanging over the path. Reining Aria to a stop, she leaned forward. Two bright eyes shone back at her, and when she gasped, the animal—whatever it was—turned and disappeared in a rustle of leaves.

Jane placed her hand on her chest, willing her heart to slow. She would not think on what the creature may have been, but rather on what it had shown her. The broken branch had created a hole in the hedge large enough for a badger or a fox or a small boy. As much as she wished it otherwise, however, it was not big enough for a woman or a horse.

With rising desperation, Jane eyed the hedge. It was too tall. Even if she’d been riding daily for the last five years, she could not have cleared it without a good run up. The orchard made that impossible. Her only hope was to find another, larger opening. Urging Aria forward again, she strained to see through the darkness. Another animal crossed her path in a flurry of fur, and fear prickled down her spine. She’d traveled far enough that she could no longer hear the other searchers’ voices. Even the specks of light from their lanterns had disappeared.

Tamping down her mounting panic, she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch and suddenly, barely within the small circle of light from her lantern, she spotted the wooden slats of a weather-worn gate. Wanting to cry with relief, she inched Aria closer. The hedge was overgrown, and the latch was buried in brambles. Clinging to the pommel with one hand, Jane leaned down and pressed her hand into the thorny branches. She tugged on the lever, pulling and pulling until she finally felt it give, then she nudged Aria forward and used the horse’s chest to push open the gate.

“Well done, girl. Well done!”

Switching the lantern into her other hand, Jane turned the mare back the way they had come and followed the other side of the hedge until they reached the small hole’s exit. Here she stopped and looked out over the wide field that separated the orchard from another small copse of trees. Beyond the trees and to the left, she caught the flicker of lights. She was too far away to ascertain whether they were coming from Bloxley Hall or more searchers, but she knew the pond could not be too far distant, and that filled her with indescribable dread.

“Asher!” she called.

The dark night whisked her voice away, and she tapped her ankles to Aria’s side, sending the horse across the rolling meadow at a canter. Wind tugged at her cloak, and now that they were moving quickly, the horse’s pounding hooves jarred her spine as she rose and fell in the unfamiliar saddle.

Across the meadow, the distant trees appeared like a giant inkblot against the moonlit sky. Closer, a second strip of darkness cut a wide band across the ground. Jane raised her lantern, attempting to determine exactly what lay ahead. The dark shadow was no wall, no line of trees or a hedgerow. It loomed ever nearer. And suddenly, immediately before her, the ground disappeared, leaving a gaping void in its place.

Panic seized her. Pulling on the reins, she leaned back in the saddle. She could not fall. Not again. Aria responded immediately and veered right, following the edge of the drop-off as her momentum slowed to a trot, then a walk, and finally a stop.

Jane leaned over the top pommel and took deep, rasping gulps of air. Sounds from the past—her horse’s scream, the crack of her pelvic bone as it impacted the rocks—filled her head, and she felt moisture bead up along her hairline as she began to tremble. She had to get off the horse. Now. While she still could.

Clutching the lantern in one shaky hand, she released her hold on the reins. Then raising her leg up and over the lower pommel, she slid off the saddle and landed on the ground in an inelegant heap. A sob escaped her, but she forced herself onto her knees and, holding the lantern only a few inches above the ground, crawled clear of the horse’s hooves.

When she was far enough away, she set the lantern on the ground and twisted into a sitting position. She pulled her legs up toward her chest, trembling violently as reaction set in. What had she been thinking, mounting a horse and riding it into the night alone? She was as foolish as Asher. She dropped her head to her knees. Asher. How could she have failed him so completely? Tears soaked her cloak, but she continued to cry until at last her shaking subsided.

When she finally raised her head, moisture from the wet grass had penetrated every layer of her clothing, and Aria was gone. She could still make out a few specks of light through the trees, but the men carrying the lights were too far away to hear her.

Not knowing how long it would be before she was found, she lifted the lantern and studied her immediate surroundings. She was sitting on a grassy ledge. Behind her, the field stretched into the darkness; before her, the grass ended in a ragged lip over a drop-off.

Jane inched forward, scooting closer to the edge. She lifted the lantern and peered down. The dirt and rock wall looked to be about fifteen feet high, and at the bottom, a tangle of bushes filled the hollow. She swung the lantern wider, and light sparkled back, reflecting off something at the bottom of the gully. Straining to see what could be shining so far below, she leaned over the edge and saw shards of broken glass glittering on the earth. And not far beyond, half hidden by a bush, was the prostrate form of a little boy.

“Asher!” Jane’s frantic cry echoed through the hollow, but he did not move.

Setting the lantern as close to the edge as she dared, Jane scooted backward until only her forearms were on the ground. Digging her fingers into the sodden dirt, she hung suspended over the gully. She reached one leg out, hoping to find a foothold on the gully wall, but finding none, she braced for impact and released her grip. Her injured leg crumpled beneath her as she landed on the rocky surface below.

She cried out as pain coursed through her. Taking deep, controlled breaths, she waited for the initial agony to subside before attempting to move. She tugged her gown free of the brambles and frantically looked around. By the dim light coming from the lantern at the top of the gully, she could make out Asher’s white shirt a few feet from her. With hands outstretched, she reached for him.

“Asher!” she called. “Asher, can you hear me?”