Augusta did not greet him, though the Countess rose to curtsey, offering him a smile. “Your Grace.”
“I will not trouble you ladies for long, but I have distressing news.”
“What is it?” August asked, frowning.
“The accident yesterday was no accident,” he said. “Someone cut the shafts on the carriage.”
Countess Whitington gasped. “That is distressing news. I do so hope you are mistaken.”
“Of course, you are mistaken, Maximilian,” Augusta said with a disdainful sniff. “Why, that would mean someone wanted you dead.”
“I expect that is true, Madam. Which is why I come to ask that you take care. Someone may wish all of us harm.”
“Do you not think you are being overly dramatic?” She was poring over her invitations list.
“No, I do not. Perhaps we should postpone the ball.”
“Nonsense.” Augusta snorted. “The ball will continue. Half the invitations have already been sent.”
“Very well. But should anything else happen, I will assign bodyguards to protect you.”
“You will do no such thing.” Augusta gazed at him firmly, her eyes stern. “I will not be followed about due to your overactive imagination.”
Countess Whitington glanced from Maximilian to Augusta and back again. “Do you think my family is in danger as well, Your Grace?”
“At this time, Countess, I know only what I have told you. Yet, I would advise you and your husband and daughter to be cautious.”
“I wish to inform my husband immediately,” Countess Whitington rose from her chair. “By your leave, Your Grace.”
She curtseyed to both Maximilian and Augusta, then rushed from the solar. Augusta eyed Maximilian with disapproval and huffed.
“Now, you deprived me of assistance with these invitations,” she complained. “I do suppose you will remain and help me?”
Maximilian smiled sardonically. “My apologies, Madam, but I must see to other matters.”
He turned on his heel and left the solar, leaving Augusta grumbling under her breath. Needing to make his usual rounds of the stables, he trotted down the stairs and out the main doors. As he walked, he tried to think of anyone who might wish his death and that of his family. Yet, try as he might, no one came to mind. He stood on good terms with his peers, and none of his votes in Parliament warranted an attempt on his life.
His mind racing like a frantic squirrel, Maximilian found the stables, as usual, soothing and quiet. Nigel joined him as he completed his rounds of the foaling stable and headed toward the unbroken horses’ building.
“Your Grace,” he said, bowing. “I came to inform you I found nothing else amiss with any of the other carriages.”
Maximilian nodded. “It is as though someone knew I would take the carriage and thus sawed the shafts in preparation.”
Nigel shook his head slowly. “Actually, that is not necessarily true. As it was raining, it was logical your coachman would harness your team to that one, as it was the one you used the most when the weather was bad.”
Maximilian frowned. “So, whoever tried to kill me knew of my plans to visit the Earl of Mallen yesterday.”
“That narrows down our list to those who knew, Your Grace.”
“Except most everyone knew, Nigel,” Maximilian said. “That does not truly help us.”
“Then we must consider who holds a grudge against you.”
Maximilian shook his head, rubbing the bandage over his brow. “I have been thinking of that. I cannot think of anyone who might bear me that much antagonism.”
“Nor can I,” Nigel admitted. “I have been trying to imagine a suspect in this and have not.”
Maximilian stroked the nose of a black two-year-old, and said, “I still owe the Earl of Mallen a visit. Will you send him a message that I will arrive on the morrow?”
