Free Maiden Lane [6] Duke of Midnight by Elizabeth Hoyt Page A

beside the door as a footman hurried by.
    When he was past she slipped down the wide steps into the garden. Trimmed hedges stood severe and dark in the grayish pink light of dawn. She ran her hand over the prickly leaves as she padded down a gravel path. She’d worn neither hat nor gloves, a terrible breach of etiquette. Ladies never went outside without both for fear of freckling in the sun, even when the sun wasn’t out.
    But then she’d never been much of a lady.
    The hedges ended at a wide, cut grass lawn and Artemis bent on a sudden impulse, pulling both her slippers and stockings from her feet. Holding them in one hand, she ran for the stand of trees, the dewy grass making her feet wet.
    She was panting by the time she’d made the edge of the trees, her heart beating faster, a grin stretching her lips. It had been so long since she’d been in the country.
    Since she’d been herself.
    The Earl of Brightmore had a country residence, naturally, but neither he nor Penelope ever went there. They were much too enamored of the city. Artemis hadn’t been back to the country in years, and she hadn’t had a proper run on grass since…
    Well, since she’d been forced to leave her childhood home.
    She shook the dreary thought from her mind. This time was precious and there was no point in using it to mourn past sorrows. The sun was up now, the light fresh and delicately new, and she tiptoed into the trees, placing her steps carefully, for her feet had become tender since she’d last walked barefoot on a forest floor.
    This wasn’t really a forest, she knew—it was a carefully cultivated copse, made to look wild by expensive gardeners—but it would do. Overhead, the birds were waking, singing their joy at the new day. A squirrel ran up the trunk of a tree and then paused to scold her as she glided past. Soft leaves rustled underfoot, and every now and again she stepped on bare earth, cool and welcoming.
    She could lose herself here. Cast off her clothing and become a wild thing, escaping civilization and society, another animal in the woods. She’d never have to go back, never have to bow to those who thought her inferior or simply looked through her as if she were the paper on the walls.
    She could be free.
    But who would care about Apollo, then? Who would visit him, bring him food, and tell him stories so he wouldn’t truly go insane? He’d rot, forgotten in Bedlam, and she couldn’t let that happen to her darling brother.
    Something moved in the trees up ahead. Artemisstilled, flattening herself to a broad trunk. It wasn’t that she was frightened of whoever it was, but she liked her solitude. Wanted to enjoy it a little longer.
    She heard a panting and then all at once she was surrounded by dogs. Three dogs, to be specific: two greyhounds and a hunting spaniel with a lovely plumed tail, wagging briskly. For a moment she and the dogs merely took stock of each other. She looked around, but no one else seemed to be in the woods, as if the dogs had gone for a jaunty ramble all on their own.
    Artemis extended her fingers. “Are you three by your lonesome, then?”
    At her voice the spaniel sniffed interestedly at her fingertips, his mouth hanging open as if he were grinning. She fondled his silky ears and then the greyhounds bounded forward to give their approval.
    A corner of her mouth curved up and she stepped out, continuing her own walk. The dogs ranged in front of her and to the sides, loping ahead before circling back to snuffle her fingers or butt against her hand as if to receive permission before trotting off again.
    Artemis meandered for a bit, not worrying about their destination, she and the dogs, and then, suddenly, the trees parted. Ahead was a pond, the morning sun shining off the dappled water. At the far side of the pond was a clever rustic bridge that led to a small, artfully tumbling tower at the other end.
    The two greyhounds went immediately to the pond’s edge to drink while the spaniel