Chapter Twelve
TWELVE
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Vesper watched the giant horse hurtling toward her.
She heard its thundering hooves as it drew level with her, then there was a rush of wind to her left.
She screwed her eyes shut and covered her head, waiting for the inevitable crash; instead, a muscled arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her out of her chair.
Vesper cracked an eye open, then started.
The rogue horse was mere feet from her, the whites of its large, frantic eyes clearly visible in the late morning’s light.
Its nostrils were flared, and its forelegs were raised as though it was preparing to leap at her, but the creature remained still, frozen in place as though held by invisible bonds.
For a moment, Vesper was reminded of a painted wooden horse on a merry-go-round.
She turned slightly, and her heart skipped.
Maximilian now stood beside her inside the pavilion.
One of his arms was still wrapped around her middle, holding her partially behind him so that he stood between her and the animal.
His other hand was raised so that his palm faced it, and his lips were moving quickly as he muttered in Thaumaric under his breath in an endless stream.
Vesper stared from him to the horse a moment before comprehension dawned.
He’s commanding it. Somehow, he’s holding the horse in place.
The moment ended as quickly as it had begun. In a rush, several polo players from both teams ran toward the horse and took hold of its reins. The animal began to move again, but now seemed slower and clearly disoriented. Vesper watched as they led it away, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Miss Evans?”
She looked up. Maximilian was staring at her. He’d paled and his expression had grown drawn, but his eyes stayed locked with hers. He was still holding on to her. “Are you all right?” he whispered. “Are you hurt?”
Vesper shook her head. “I’m fine.” She was almost certain that was true. Her legs were tingling as though a thousand tiny pins had pricked them simultaneously, but she wasn’t in any physical pain.
“I’ve never seen anything like that.” Maximilian glanced in the direction the horse had been taken, looking bewildered. “It was almost as though the horse was—”
“Vesper!”
Vesper looked up. Several women were running in her direction, Mrs. Oelrich and Ada leading them.
Were it not for the worry etched on their faces, Vesper might have found the sight of them, a crowd of fluttering dresses, absurdly funny.
Ada reached her first and took her by both shoulders.
Her eyes were wide. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Vesper said slowly. “I’m just…” Without warning, one of her knees buckled beneath her. Maximilian caught her, holding her upright.
“You’re in shock,” said Ada. “We need to move you to a chair. Maximilian, can you carry her?”
Maximilian hoisted her off the ground.
Vesper started to protest, to say that she was perfectly capable of walking, but her hands had begun to tremble, and her mouth felt oddly dry. It was beginning to dawn on her how close she’d come to being trampled to death. Suddenly, she was exhausted.
“Where can we go?” Maximilian asked.
“The medical tent,” said Ada. “She needs somewhere quiet to sit.”
Maximilian carried her past the other watching spectators and up a small hill away from the field.
She tried to say thank you, but a new fatigue had set in that made even keeping her eyes open difficult.
More people were watching them, but she focused on Maximilian.
He was cradling her against him. She thought of how heavy she must be in all the layers of clothing she was wearing, but if the sorcerer was struggling, he gave no sign of it as he walked.
She turned her head, relieved to see the white medical tent up ahead.
It was more or less a large white canopy furnished with a table of medical supplies and a few chairs, but it was blessedly empty.
“I’m going to set you down,” said Maximilian. “Are you all right to stand?”
Vesper nodded. The gentleness in Maximilian’s voice was disarming, so unlike the cocky man she was used to bantering with. He put her on her feet. The phantom pins in her legs were still there, but already Vesper was feeling steadier.
“I’m all right now, really,” she said. “Thank you both for your help.”
The expression on Ada’s face was decidedly skeptical. “I’m still going to go find some water.” She nodded toward the tent. “Are you happy to stay here?”
“I need to step away a moment,” said Maximilian. He turned to Vesper. “Will you be all right?”
Vesper nodded. In truth, she was more concerned about Maximilian. His skin was still milk white, and his eyes looked glassy and unfocused.
“Mr. Kite, are you well?”
The sorcerer gave her a wan smile. “Perfectly fine. I’ve just overexerted. Nothing a quick water break can’t fix. I’ll be back.”
Vesper nodded, almost relieved when both Maximilian and Ada left. She sat in one of the empty chairs under the pavilion and took several deep breaths, relishing the crisp air. The brain fog was lifting as the adrenaline dissipated. In its place came clarity.
Maximilian had possibly just saved her life.
She didn’t understand exactly how he’d done it, how he’d reached her so fast and gotten her out of harm’s way, but somehow, he’d restrained that horse without laying so much as a hand on it.
Vesper cast her gaze to the field. It seemed the match had already resumed, with another player standing in for Maximilian.
Vesper thought of the way he’d looked at her before.
There’d been real worry on the sorcerer’s face, real concern for her.
Her stomach swooped at the thought of that, but she couldn’t explain why.
“Excuse me, hello! Do you mind if I sit?”
Vesper looked up. Her thoughts had been so consumed by Maximilian that she hadn’t noticed the young woman approaching. Vesper started. The young woman was wearing a different dress today, but her dark round eyes were unmistakable.
It was the girl from the maze. Bess.
The young woman settled into a chair next to her. “I just needed a place to sit down for a moment. I’m in a sorry state.” She lifted the hem of her dress slightly to reveal a very swollen ankle.
“Goodness,” said Vesper. “That looks awful.”
Bess’s smile was grim. “Serves me right, walking around a muddy polo field in heels.” She rolled her eyes. “Truth be told, I think I’d be happier barefoot.”
“There’s some medical tape here.” Vesper gestured. “You could try binding up your ankle.” She handed her the roll. “Keeping it elevated should help with the swelling.”
The young woman’s smile broadened as she accepted the tape. “Thank you.” She paused. “I’m Bess.”
“I know,” said Vesper. “We’ve … met before.”
The skin between Bess’s brows pinched a moment before new understanding touched her face. “Oh. You’re…”
“I kept my promise,” said Vesper quickly. “I didn’t tell anyone I saw you in the maze.”
Bess’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, again.” She looked around a moment, as though unsure of what to say, before a whistle sounded, pulling both their eyes back to the field. “That’ll be the first chukker done.”
Vesper blinked. “Chukker?”
Bess grinned. “That’s what the time periods in a polo match are called, they run seven and a half minutes each.”
“I see.”
“There are six chukkers in a single match, which means forty-five minutes of play,” Bess went on. “Since this is a private match though, my guess is they’ll only play four.”
“You know a lot about polo,” Vesper noted. “Do you play?”
“Oh, no.” Bess turned slightly pink. “I’d love to give it a try but, well … you know.”
“Actually, I don’t.” Vesper frowned. “If you enjoy the sport, why don’t you play?”
Bess looked sheepish. “Polo is considered a gentleman’s sport,” she explained. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for a woman to participate.”
Vesper sat back in her chair. “Oh.” Suddenly, she felt very foolish.
“It isn’t so bad.” There was a new cheerfulness in Bess’s voice that sounded slightly forced. “There are other sports women can play—croquet, archery, lawn bowling. I convinced my father to buy me a bicycle a few months ago. That was going all right until—”
“Well, well, this is interesting.”
Vesper and Bess looked up. A trio of young women were heading toward the medical tent.
All three of them were smiling, but there was something about the look of the one leading them that made Vesper inexplicably uneasy.
She was pretty, with light unblemished skin and glossy brunette hair tucked neatly beneath an extravagant feathered hat.
Vesper took special notice of the golden choker necklace she wore around her neck; a red gem the size of a large grape rested at the hollow of her throat.
The other two young women were flanking her like guards. Beside her, Bess stiffened.
“Hello.” The leader addressed Vesper first. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. My name’s Sarah Levant.”
Vesper stood and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “My name’s Vesper.”
Sarah’s lip quirked. “Oh, I know who you are. Everyone’s heard all about Maximilian Kite’s newest fascination. You’re the talk of the town.”
Vesper’s smile faltered a beat, but she kept it in place as she took her seat again. There was something about the way Sarah had said the word fascination that had sounded double-edged.
“We heard about the unfortunate mishap with the horse,” Sarah went on. “We came to see if you were all right. But it seems you’ve already found some very interesting company.” She turned to Bess. “Elizabeth, I must admit I’m surprised to see you out in public so soon.”
Vesper frowned in confusion. Elizabeth? She turned and saw Bess had flushed to a deep crimson.
“I don’t want any trouble, Sarah.” Her voice was small, barely a whisper.