“No, the other horses were all fairly steady, from what the groom said. And that was Edmund’s favourite horse. It was, to the best of my knowledge, normally well behaved, and Edmund was a skilled rider.”
Charles spoke again, sounding puzzled.
“Then… why did the horse behave as it did? What happened to it, after it bolted, once Edmund had fallen? Was there any evidence of a cause for the behaviour?”
Utter silence greeted this question, and Maria met Charles’ eyes with a startled expression.
Chapter Ten
“A very good question indeed.” Hunter came to stand near Charles, and spoke with a half amused, half pondering tone. “As a family, we never have been able to leave a puzzle alone, have we?”
“No. And this seems to me a very great puzzle – and one which may have a significant influence on Lady Granville’s life.”
Maria’s voice came, softly, uncertain, and Charles returned his attention to her, tightening his fingers around hers again, his heart aching at the signs of stress and exhaustion in her face.
“I… I did not think to ask at the time, and no-one has ever said anything. Should we summon the groom, and ask him?”
“Yes, I believe that would be appropriate.”
Charles stood, stepping to the side to pull the bell rope, and summon a footman. Soon, there was a tap on the door, and a footman entered.
“Yes, my Lady?”
Maria gave a wry smile, as if the staff turning to her was an unusual occurrence. Charles wondered, again, what her life had been like in this house.
“Please bring the groom, who was in attendance on my late husband on the day of the hunt, to speak to me now.”
The footman looked rather startled at this request, but bowed.
“As you wish, my Lady. I will return with him as soon as I locate him.”
Charles paced about the room – the more he thought about the situation, the more convinced he became that there was far more to this matter of Lord Granville’s horse suddenly behaving so uncharacteristically than had been assumed. Perhaps he was overthinking it, and it was simply the Dowager Countess’ shocking accusation of foul play that was leading his thoughts astray, but he struggled to convince himself of that. But what might cause a normally reasonable horse to behave so?
They turned their attention to the refreshments, no-one really wanting to eat, yet knowing that they should. The silence stretched as they waited. Maria’s father, Lord Chester, stood, and joined Charles in pacing about the room, muttering to himself.
“Right rum business this! How dare that woman accuse my daughter of murder! We’ll see this cleared up, can’t have the family name besmirched, or the innocent accused!”
Charles could only agree with his sentiments. Maria sat, quiet, her eyes sad, her posture showing clearly how much of a toll all of this was taking on her.
Charles wanted, more than anything else, to simply take her in his arms, to hold her, to make her safe, to take the sadness and fear away. It was not his place to do so. As he watched her, he knew that he would do everything he could, no matter what it took, to one day make it his place to care for her. But this was not the time to think or speak of such things, so soon after her husband’s death, and with the shadow of accusation hanging over her.
After a blessedly short time, the footman returned, a nervous looking groom following him.
“Here he is, my Lady. This is Dickins. He was with them, the day of…”
“Thank you.”
The footman bowed and left, looking curious, and as if he would desperately like to stay, to discover what was about to be said.
“Dickins – please, take a seat. We’d like to ask you a few questions about Lord Granville’s accident.”
At Charles’ words, Dickins looked uncertainly at Maria, who simply nodded, and waved him to a chair. He sat, perched on the edge, twisting his cap between his fingers.
“First, please tell us what happened that day, as best you remember.”
Dickins thought a moment, then spoke, repeating almost exactly what Maria had told them of the events of the day. Charles waited until he had finished telling of the moments after they had brought Lord Granville back to the house.
“Dickins, what of the horse? You have said that Lord Granville’s horse ran off, bolting away down the road, immediately after Lord Granville fell. But what happened to it after that?”
Dickins twisted his cap into a tight wad of cloth, looking down, as if afraid.
“My Lord… I… at the time, I was more concerned about getting Lord Granville out of the river, and home. I didn’t chase off after his horse, even thought, mayhap, I should have.” He hesitated, as if expecting to be chastised for his failure. When no criticism came, he took a deep breath and went on. “After, I went back to look, but I couldn’t find him. The forest is thick near there, and he had run off that way. Two weeks ago, the woodcutter brought me his saddle – he’d found it, lying in a clearing deep in the woods. The girth was snapped, and the saddle all scratched up, like. But that’s the only sign of the horse we’ve had.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
Maria looked at the man, puzzled. He twisted the cap even tighter, and looked away, fidgeting on the edge of his chair, before meeting her eyes.
“My Lady, if I’m t’ be honest with you, because I was afraid. Afraid that her Ladyship would turn me off, for losing an expensive horse, or even, perhaps, blame me for what the horse did, given I was caring for it. So, I kept hoping he’d turn up, and I’d never have t’ tell her.”
Maria’s eyes lit with what Charles could only describe as heartfelt sympathy. She sighed, and nodded sadly, as if the man’s words were not at all unexpected.
“I understand, Dickins. I do not blame you. Do you think… do you think that, with help, you could find the horse?”
“Perhaps, my Lady, it’s been many weeks now, but it’s possible. But… won’t her Ladyship…”
“We will deal with that, should the situation occur. I guarantee that you will not be turned off and left with nowhere to go.”
Charles’ voice was hard. He was, truth to tell, a little shocked – that the Dowager Countess invoked such fear in her staff, that this man believed she would blame him, for things which he manifestly could not have affected – this horrified him, and made him wonder just how she had treated Maria. Fragments of their conversation at the wedding breakfast came back to him, and made far more sense now, than they had then.
“Thank you, my Lord.”
“We’ll start the search tomorrow, then. We’ll come to you in the stables, in the morning. Now, you’d best be back to your duties.”
Dickins rose, bowed, and almost ran from the room.
~~~~~
The following day, Hunter, Charles and Kevin, Maria’s brother, decided to split up – Hunter and Kevin to seek out some of the men who had been participants in the ill-fated hunt, and Charles to go with Dickins and other grooms to search for the horse. As Charles and the grooms set off from the stables, a man came hurrying up the drive.
Charles stopped, and waited as he approached.
“Who might you be?”
“Lewis Maddox, my Lord.”
“Lewis? The gatekeeper’s son?”
Charles’ voice had risen, his memory of the previous day’s accusations returning in detail.
‘Yes, my Lord. I am told that I have been falsely accused of the worst kind of behaviour. I greatly respect Lady Granville, I would never… I came here to apologise for my very existence, that it should have been used to harm her in such a way. I do not know what I can do to help lay these terrible accusations against her to rest, but I wish to help in any way that I can.”
Charles relaxed a little – the man seemed genuine, and as horrified as they were at the words that had been spoken yesterday.
“As it happens, you can help. It seems that Lord Granville’s horse was never recovered, after it bolted from the scene of his acci
dent. We are off to search the forests for it. Your assistance will be welcome. Come with us.”
Lewis joined them, and they set off. It was, in the end, a long, tedious, and fruitless day of searching. By the time they returned, dusk was closing in. The grooms hurried to carry out their normal duties, Lewis left them as they passed the gatekeeper’s cottage, and Charles took himself into the house, the thought of food and drink a most welcome one.
Hunter and Kevin had also returned, and waited for him in the parlour, with everyone else.
“Did you have any success?”
Maria’s eyes met his, full of hope. He hated to disappoint her.
“No, not yet, unfortunately. We did find a few scraps of leather, likely once part of the horse’s bridle, but no sign of the horse. We won’t give up, we will go out again tomorrow. One interesting thing did happen however. As we set off, we were joined by an unexpected helper. Lewis Maddox.”
Maria gasped.
“Why…?”
“He had come to apologise – he had heard of what was said at the funeral, and deeply regrets that his name has been used to besmirch your name. He offered to help.”
“I am glad. Whilst he made me uncomfortable, I never thought that he meant me any ill. But perhaps he should talk to his stepmother about the evils of gossip.”
“Maddox? I remember that name. I believe he did well for himself in France, a worthy and honourable soldier. I am sure that I met him, during the war.”
Hunter looked thoughtful, staring into the distance as he cast his mind back.
“That is good to know. He certainly put in the effort today. But enough of my day – what success did you have?”
“More than you! We managed to speak to four of the men who were present at the accident. All of them agree that the horse acted most unusually. They knew the animal, and it had never done anything like that before.”
Maria spoke into the silence that followed Hunter’s words.
“Then… we are right to suspect that there is more to it than everyone assumed? I do not know if that pleases me, or frightens me.”
“Yes, it seems clear that it was, perhaps, no accident at all. We will keep investigating, until we have an answer. But tell me – has the Dowager spoken to you today?”
Charles was concerned that Maria might have been forced to endure more accusations, and was relieved when she shook her head, and Lady Chester replied to his question.
“No. Thankfully that unpleasant woman has not stirred from her rooms. Sensible of her, in my opinion. She may live in this house, but she is certainly not welcome in our company.”
“Good, I must agree with you. It will be best for everyone if she stays secluded for some time. Now, I must admit to being rather hungry, after a day traipsing through the woods…”
As he spoke, Thompson tapped on the door, and announced that dinner was ready. Everyone laughed, the apposite timing breaking the rather sombre mood of the conversation. In the dining room, Charles found himself seated next to Maria, and glanced at her sidelong – she caught his eye and smiled at him, a little uncertain. Even so small a smile made him feel warm all over. As the servants busied themselves serving the first course, he could not resist, he reached out and took her hand, where it lay on her lap, beneath the table. Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, simply returning the pressure of his fingers. For now, it was enough. But he knew that he wanted more – for years to come.
~~~~~
Each day of the following week was much the same. Eventually, Hunter and Kevin had spoken to every man who had been present at the time of Lord Granville’s fall – they all agreed that what had happened was most out of the expected way. Charles and his party of searchers had covered a vast area of the local countryside, and were almost at the point of despair.
“One last day of searching, and then we may have to give up. I would not have thought that a single horse would have wandered so far. Perhaps he was found by the gypsies, and is long gone from hereabouts – I don’t know, but I have to try one more time.”
“Perhaps, if we come with you today, we can cover even more ground.”
Charles looked at Hunter gratefully, and nodded.
When they had left, Maria picked up the embroidery she had been working on, and forced herself to continue. If she had to just sit here and wait for many more days, she would go completely mad. She had ventured out to her cottage once, to make certain that her herbs and simples were still as they should be, but the winter cold had made her glad to return to the house. If only there were more to do, than read, embroider, and talk to her mother and Nerissa! Her father, of course, had shut himself away in the library.
But the day eventually drew towards dusk, and the welcome sound of the men returning. They came through the door, and she rose, hope on her face at the sight of their smiles.
“Have you…?”
“Yes, yes! We found the beast. Halfway to the next county, but alive, standing there picking at the grass through the snow, in a sheltered forest clearing. And we were right to worry about the cause of him rearing and bucking that day. For across his upper flank, there is a wound – unhealed, deep, and oozing. It is the sort of wound that could only have been made by a barbed dart or perhaps an arrow.”
Charles voice was full of the pleasure of having his belief proven true, but Maria was not so sure, she went to him, and, without thought, took his hands.
“How can you be sure? Could not a branch in the forest…?”
Hunter smiled at them both, and shook his head.
“No – I have seen entirely too many wounds from arrows and every other weapon you might imagine, whilst in France and Spain. This looks as if a barbed dart was the cause, and it was stuck in the flesh for some time, before tearing free. I think that we can safely say that someone wanted Lord Granville dead, or at the least, injured.” Maria felt her stomach churn, and her hands tightened on Charles’. Fear rushed through her – who? Why? And would the Dowager, or that horrible Morton woman, try to blame her for this too? Hunter’s next words echoed her concern. “The question, of course, is who? We know that Maria did not want her husband dead, no matter what the Dowager has said – but who did? And why?”
Chapter Eleven
The next day, as he walked into the town, Charles was still asking himself that question. He had found himself needing to get out, away from the stifling atmosphere of tension in Myniard House, to move, to think, and had decided to see what was being said in the town. It seemed that most of the district felt the need to go shopping, for the main street was crowded, and small clusters of people stopped to talk along the way.
Every group that Charles passed, he heard snippets of conversation – most still about the events at the funeral, and full of supposition and exaggeration. He sighed heavily as he passed yet another gossiping group and turned into the open door of the shop that sold ribbons, bonnets, and the like – he had hoped for something better, but had not really expected anything different. He would ignore them all, and buy Maria a small gift for her birthday tomorrow, then return to Myniard House.
“Sigh worthy indeed! They are all petty-minded gossips with nothing better to do!”
Charles turned to the woman who had spoken, curious. She was older, arrayed in a hat and gown that would have been the height of fashion twenty years before. She waved her hand expressively at the group he had just passed.
“My Lady, impolite as it is of me to do so, I must agree with you. Charles Barrington, Viscount Wareham, at your service.”
He bowed. She looked at him with an arch expression, then favoured him with a broad smile.
“I am Lady Fremont. My property adjoins Myniard Park. Do I have it correct that you are some relative of Lady Granville’s?”
“Not exactly - my brother married her sister. She was my neighbour in childhood. I have come with my brother and his wife to support her at this difficult time.”
“Very laudable of you. I don’t believe a word of the
accusations. Lucy Morton has always been one to stir up trouble – in her opinion, no woman would ever really have been good enough for Lord Granville. And as for Constance… that’s the elder Lady Granville – well, she kept her son right under her thumb – and when he chose his own wife… you can imagine the result.”
“Thank you for not believing the accusations. I wish more people were as clear sighted as you.”
She smiled at Charles again, as if being called clearsighted amused her.
“Most round here wouldn’t call me that. But thank you for doing so. They think I’m a little addle witted, because I spend my time studying the stars. Ignorant. That’s what they are.”
“The stars?”
“Yes, I’ve a telescope on top of the old tower on my land. I spend most evenings up there – despite the ghosts.”
“Ghosts?”
Charles was beginning to wonder where this conversation was going, but he could not exactly simply walk away. Best to let the woman ramble on if she wanted to.
“Ghosts. In the cellar of my tower, and, I believe, in that old Dower House on Myniard Park. I keep seeing dark shapes going in and out of there at night, and strange lights in the windows. The place has been abandoned and crumbling for twenty years or more, since the previous Lord Granville’s mother died. So, it has to be ghosts, doesn’t it?”
“Errr, I suppose so. If it’s been abandoned for twenty years.”
“I knew you were an intelligent young man – knew it the second I heard you sigh at the gossips. Well, I must be off about my day. Do enjoy your visit here, as much as you can in the circumstances.”
She waved her hand at him, and set off down the street. Charles watched her go, bemused, then turned back into the shop – what could he buy for Maria, that would still be appropriate for her to wear during mourning? Not that it was really appropriate for him to be buying her anything, but propriety be damned – he wanted to cheer her up, if he could.
~~~~~
Maria sat, staring at the parcel in her hand.
Rescuing the Countess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 13) Page 8