His Lady Mistress

8 His Lady MistressOrders. Her gut roiled as the lantern changed hands andthe cart lumbered off. Slipping from the shadows, she followed,just close enough not to lose the sickly light in theblinding rain.At the end of the village street a swift rattle of hooves senther scurrying for cover in the lych gate of the churchyard.All that she could see of the approaching rider was that hewas tall, and wore a heavy cloak. Clenching her teeth againsttheir betraying chatter, Verity strained to hear what the ridersaid to the men. The words were muffled in the curtain ofdriving rain, but the deep accents were unfamiliar. It must bethe fashionable stranger who had put up at the inn earlier inthe day.She bit back a sob of fury as the horseman rode out at thesame slow pace as the cart. It was none of his business! Didhe just want a sensational story to tell his friends? Her fistsballed in impotent rage. She must not reveal herself. Surelyhe would not stay long. She could still do what must be done.Blinking rain out of her eyes, she followed the cart and riderout of the village.The rain swiftly penetrated her threadbare cloak, chillingher to the bone. She shivered uncontrollably, fiercely pretendingthat it was just the cold, that there was nothing tofear.Doggedly she repeated the litany over and over in hermind. There is nothing to fear. No bears or wolves. Ghostsdon’t exist. There is nothing to fear...Except the dark and fear itself. She had never been out thislate at all, let alone by herself... You aren’t alone. The cartis ahead...no one else will be out on a night like this anyway...A shudder racked her at the thought and she forcedher mind away...nothing to fear... except her own selfloathing.Finally the cart reached the crossroads. Trembling with exhaustionand cold, Verity shrank into the hedgerow, crouchedon the wet turf, scarcely noticing the branches clawing at her