Mercedes rode the horse hard toward the next town, not stopping to give the animal a breath or even take a rest herself. The cool breeze from last night’s storm stung her cheeks, dried her lips, and unraveled the ringlets in her hair. She didn’t care. This was her only form of release. She couldn’t let William see how his nearness affected her. For that matter, she couldn’t let anyone see.

When she pictured William’s wounded face, guilt gnawed at her conscience. It seemed he’d been the person truly wronged. But he wasn’t the one who had gone mad and died, either. She must remember her sister above all else.

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