At one stall, she reached up to rub a bay mare’s velvety nose. “Feel like a run, Lady Jane?” The mare’s ears twitched as she nosed about in hopes of a treat, and Miranda laughed as she guided her from her stall to saddle her. She needed this respite from the stuffy music and drawing rooms. The air was crisp and cold, and the sky was surprisingly blue as she set out toward the woods surrounding Thorpeton Hall. Her breath emerged in silvery clouds as she urged Lady Jane into a cantor. It was a glorious morning and, dressed in her most comfortable breeches and a billowy white shirt she’d purloined from her best friend Duncan ages ago, she felt more like her old self. Despite the sun, dampness weighted the air, and held the clean, refreshing scent of rain. She breathed deep, savored the mossy scent of fresh air, and guided Lady Jane toward a bridle path between two large hawthorn trees. There was nothing she loved more than being on horseback, especially when she didn’t have to sit sidesaddle, and the ride did much to lift her spirits, not to mention ease the heaviness from her thoughts.
