Send the Simple Girl Inside," the Duke Ordered — She Was Already on His Horse
Chapter 6
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"She what?""She rode the black stallion," Edmund said. "She took him from the top of the huntfield to the beechwood in front of Lord Mowbray and eleven other men, and walked him down to the gate on a loose rein with her hands flat on his neck." He let that sit in the wet air for exactly as long as it deserved. "Three men went to the surgeon over that horse this year, Harrow. She did not so much as raise her voice."Harrow turned and looked at his niece. She stood six feet away with her hand flat on the gray mare's neck, watching both of them the way a person watches weather come over a field."Bea," he said, "is that right?"She did not answer."She won't," Harrow said to the Duke, turning back almost relieved. "You see, she won't. There's nothing in there to answer with, begging your pardon. Fever took it when she was twelve, and it never came back."Edmund watched her face while her uncle said it. Nothing moved in it, not a flicker. And that stillness was so complete, so practiced, so expensive, that Edmund understood he was looking at a door someone shut on purpose and leaned against for nine years."Ten shillings a week," he said.Harrow's head came around."Ten, paid to her hand, not yours.""Your Grace, she can't count past—""Paid to her hand," Edmund said, "or paid to nobody."The rain came harder for a moment and then eased. Water ran off the barn roof in a bright, thin rope and broke on the cobbles between them. Harrow laughed, uncertain, looking for the joke. Then he stopped looking for it.