Rebel Marquess by Amy Sandas Read Free Book Online

with buds.
    Eliza tucked her notebook against her chest and folded her arms within the shawl as she started away from the house in brisk strides. During her conversation with Lady Blackbourne the night before, she had asked about a good walking trail. The countess had recommended a path through the woods that crossed a low creek bed and led to a hill topped by a copse of ancient trees.
    The spot sounded perfectly inspirational and Eliza was anxious to get the words that had been flying through her mind the last couple of days down on paper. She strode quickly and took very little note of her surroundings as she passed. Her mind’s eye was already directing the vision of her protagonist as he rode across a rough and bitter landscape at a breakneck speed, determined to reach…
    Eliza scowled.
    Where exactly is he going in such a terrifying hurry?
    She saw the scene taking place just after dusk when the night was still new, but Sir Randolph had already been riding for hours. His horse was lathered, his skin chapped from the wind, but his heart determined.
    Why?
    Eliza twisted her lips ruefully. Her hero was desperately in need of some proper motivation.
    She looked up from where she had been blindly watching her sturdy brown boots eat up the ground beneath her. Up ahead, a narrow footbridge spanned a deep gorge that once must have been an impressive river. Now only a shallow stream meandered lyrically over smooth stones at the bottom of the steeply sloped sides. The bridge was weathered and worn and on the opposite bank long golden grasses grew amid wide-spaced trees. Coming from the earthy shadows of the forest, the other side of the river appeared to be basking in the early morning sunlight.
    As she crossed the bridge, Eliza imagined she was traversing into a forgotten land.
    When she reached the other side, she was convinced the air was more still and heavier somehow. The birds were more melodic and the sky more vividly blue. There was no path on this side of the river, so Eliza started through the long grass toward a sharp rise in the landscape. The countess had mentioned a hill, so Eliza found a way up the steep incline, falling to her knees as her boots slid on the soft ground. But once she reached the top a smile of wonder widened her lips.
    The land leveled out and spread before her in bright sunshine. The copse of ancient trees Lady Blackbourne had mentioned was so much more than Eliza had pictured. The roots of the trees sank heavily into the ground and black gnarled limbs twisted upward and outward from thick trunks.
    Eliza trod slowly across the hilltop, scanning the scene with visceral interest. No breeze stirred the air and all smelled faintly of earth, crisp grass and moist pungent herbs. The golden grass did not stand tall in this space but lay against the ground in a rolling carpet. Approaching the center of the clearing, she turned in place and noticed that the trees formed a large ring around the top of the hill, protecting the clearing with the reach of their black, twisted arms.
    Feeling the warmth of the sun more directly, she removed her shawl to spread it on the ground before she lowered herself to the grass. She took a moment to tip her smiling face to the sky, grateful Lady Blackbourne had thought to direct her to such a perfect location.
    Then she opened her notebook, balanced it on her bent knees and began to write.
     
    Rutherford did not expect to see anyone about so early in the day. He was rarely up at such an unnatural hour, but he’d had a fitful night of sleep and finally decided to rise rather than continue tossing about in his bed. He’d hoped a walk might help him to define the source of his uneasiness so he could rid himself of it. But he had been stomping about the grounds of Silverly for almost an hour and still had not been able to dispel the odd sort of disquiet seething beneath his skin.
    After a while, he had turned his thoughts toward Grimm’s problem. He had an idea for how to