Malcolm inched past Imogen with a lowered head, careful to avoid her touch, and he pushed into the corridor. He turned away, oddly embarrassed for her to see the pistol as he holstered it. Then he cleared his throat. “I must lock the door. It isn’t safe to leave you here.”
Imogen walked into the room. Malcolm tensed as she approached the bed. Imogen bent over and took hold of the blanket with her spindly fingers. She picked it up and laid it over Charlotte, slowly spreading it to cover the werewolf’s bare feet. Then she returned to the door and joined Malcolm in the hall. He closed the door and locked it.
“Won’t you come with me?” he asked.
She didn’t move, but when he started off, she followed with shuffling steps. Once back in the library, she gave him a cold, lifeless stare with her mechanical eye as she glided out. Then he heard “My sister has a gold key that our father made. It’s what you want. My sister has a gold key that our father made. It’s what you want” from the whispering skull as Imogen went upstairs and drifted off toward her distant room.
Malcolm replaced the key to Charlotte’s cell in the small brass bowl where Kate kept it. He noticed with curious alarm that his hand was shaking. He clenched his fists. He didn’t see anyone else moving about the house as he returned to his room, packed his meager possessions, and went out into the winter night.
Chapter 8
“No one saw him leave?” Simon asked.
“No. He’s just gone.” Kate shoved aside a heavy evergreen branch that then swept back along the side of the red stallion she led, eliciting a nicker from the horse.
“I’m sure he’ll be back.” Simon gave a despondent sigh, slapping leather reins against his thigh. His grey Arabian mare pulled with annoyance and snatched at branches.
“He took all his things with him which, granted, wasn’t much.” Kate nestled her head alongside her horse’s powerful jaw. “Apparently he wasn’t happy with our inclusion of Charlotte. So much so that he couldn’t stay.”
“I must say I didn’t see it coming.”
“He’s wrong though. About Charlotte.”
Simon hummed noncommittally as he ducked under a branch.
Kate looked at him. “Isn’t he?”
Simon pulled a twig from his horse’s mouth, causing the mare to toss her head. “What we’re trying is unprecedented. The only way of judging right or wrong is whether we survive.”
They continued silently. The winter forest around them was cold and wet, and little sun penetrated to the spongy floor. There was no wind and the breath from humans and horses lay thick in the air. The brush was thick despite the season.
A nearby juniper bush rustled and burst open as a huge hairy shape roared into view. A massive beast bore down on Simon. He jerked up an arm to block the bounding Aethelred from trampling him and the wolfhound crashed against him. The dog’s tongue lolled wildly with canine enthusiasm. As he was toppled off balance, Simon caught a glimpse of a grey streak above him. He bobbed his head just in time to avoid the clamping teeth of the wild-eyed mare.
“Hah!” Simon scrambled to his feet, jerking the reins to snap the horse’s head around. “I knew you were waiting for a chance to strike. Very cunning, this girl.”
Kate calmly patted her own placid mount, who had barely twitched a muscle. “Yes, she’s a firebrand. She nipped Hogarth quite badly last year.”
“You might have warned me she’s a biter.”
Kate huffed and checked a saddle cinch. “You should assume every horse is a biter until you find otherwise.”
“So now I need to be wary of every filly in the Anstruther stable?” Simon smirked, regarding her as he scratched the great wolfhound’s head.
“I’m sure we could arrange a mule for you to mount if that’s your riding preference.” Kate offered a wise smile. “You might be hard-pressed to keep up.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Mule or goat, the day you can outride me is a long ways off.”
Kate’s head snapped up. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Archer?”
“I was merely saying that I am a finer horseman than you.”
She worked her jaw from side to side and took hold of her horse’s bridle. “I’m sorry, give me a moment to adjust to the shock of hearing something so outlandish, will you?”
“Take all the time you need. Which is precisely what I would say to you should we race to the house.”
The sound of leather creaking came from Kate tightening her gloved fists. Her green eyes flared with a light that was no longer quite a performance. “Are you trying to goad me, sir?”
Simon gave a grand laugh and set a foot in the stirrup. He patted the saddle. “Care to put your money where your shapely derriere is?”