Read Online The Dark Lady by Máire Claremont - Free Book Online Page A

Could such a thing be construed as madness? Perhaps. To someone who had never loved, who had never lost.
    Smallpox had claimed Ian’s parents while he’d been at Eton. He thought he might go half mad himself. But the old Lord Carin, his father’s best friend, had taken him in, not committed him to the madhouse. Still, Thomas had intimated that Eva had attempted to drown herself, the final straw before her committal.
    No doubt in a few days Thomas would know what Ian had done. And Ian had no idea how Thomas would react. After all, Ian had used his name and liberated the very woman he had locked up. There were no other words for what Thomas had done—that asylum rivaled Bridewell Jail for horror.
    Eva shivered in her sleep.
    Without giving it a thought, Ian took his thick wool coat and slipped it over her small frame. For the briefest of moments, her frown eased and she rested.
    It was the most relieved his heart had felt since before Hamilton’s brutal death.
    There was no question he’d made a bold and irrevocable move. He was certain that Thomas would not have approved. In fact, he very much expected a detective from the Bow Street Runners upon his doorstep within days.
    But when they came, he would be ready.

Chapter 7
    England
Six years earlier
    I an braced himself up on his stirrups, keeping his chest low, adjusting his weight with the pound of his stallion’s hooves against the hard earth and bright green grass of the country.
    He could almost taste the win.
    In the distance, the two trees that marked the finish line and a crowd that included Lord Carin had gathered. They hollered and called to him. Ian’s stallion, Dragon, sensed it, too. The white beast charged forward, his stride smooth and perfect, mane whipping through the air. A thrill at the speed and grace pumped deep in Ian’s heart. He let out a laugh at the wild joy working as one with Dragon gave him.
    Just behind, perhaps two horse lengths back, Hamilton shouted.
    Ian couldn’t quite make out the words his friend was yelling, but the intensity penetrated the thundering of the horses’ gaits. Ian narrowed his eyes against the wind, focused on the finish. Focused on winning. Ahead the crowd waved wildly, their cheers piercing the air. Ian leaned in, his cheek dancing against Dragon’s mane. “Come on, boy,” he urged. “Come on.”
    At those soft words the stallion stretched his neck, increased his stride, and tore across the remaining distance to the finish. The shouts of the crowd boomed around him as he raced between the two trees. He caught Lord Carin’s face, beaming, his gray beard framing his broad smile.
    On an undignified but triumphant whoop, the old man lifted his top hat and waved it.
    Ian pulled gently on the bit and Dragon immediately eased back, coming to a slow walk. Ian patted the stallion on his graceful neck. “Thank you, Dragon.”
    “Well done!” Lord Carin shouted, walking up beside the seventeen-hand-high horse. “Well done, son.”
    The whole crowd was pressing in to congratulate Ian, and a smile of pure triumph pulled his lips. All that mattered was winning Lord Carin’s approval. “Thank you, sir.”
    “You could always outride Hamilton,” boomed Lord Carin. “Foolish boy, to try and best you.”
    Ian swallowed, though his heart beat wildly at the praise. He glanced back over his shoulder and spotted Hamilton’s stricken face as his friend reined his horse in. “He rode well,” Ian said.
    Lord Carin waved a dismissive hand. “He rides adequately. Doesn’t understand horseflesh. Not like you, my boy.”
    Ian froze atop his mount as a snaking feeling of dread grabbed his gut. He hadn’t intended to so thoroughly outride Hamilton.
    Red tinged Hamilton’s cheeks, and he seemed to shrink atop his horse. “Are you not proud of me as well, Father?”
    Lord Carin hesitated, as if searching for words. “Of course. Of course. But Ian here . . .” His voice trailed off, the meaning clear to all.
    The crowd began