Maximilian strode toward his steward’s office as quickly as his sore body and aching ankle permitted. He knew Nigel Curry usually spent his mornings there before making his rounds to the tenants and other estates Maximilian owned. Hoping this was not a day where Nigel traveled a distance and departed shortly after dawn, he knocked politely on the door before entering.
Nigel rose from behind his desk to bow. “Your Grace,” he said. “What a pleasure.”
“I hope so,” Maximilian said, sinking with no little relief into a chair.
Nigel also sat, folding his hands atop his desk. “Is there a problem?”
“Other than some lunatic trying to kill me and Miss Betham,” he deadpanned, “no problem at all.”
“Tell me, how can I help.”
“I wish to have someone keep an eye on Miss Betham,” Maximilian said. “Follow her, make certain nothing happens to her. Do you have someone in mind for such a task?”
“A bodyguard?”
“Yes.”
Nigel leaned back in his chair, frowning as he pondered. “Someone like that would need a bit of experience in say, fighting, Your Grace. And such a guard on her might raise comment.”
“I do not care about that, Nigel,” Maximilian answered, then bit his knuckle. “I want her back watched, protected. Do you have someone in mind?”
“In fact, I do. One of your tenants has a son who recently returned from France and the war – stout lad, intelligent, a good soldier. Perhaps if we outfit him in the livery of a footman, he would cause less discussion and would fit in.”
Maximilian took a deep breath of relief. “I like it. Can you talk to him soon? I will pay him handsomely.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Nigel chewed his lower lip in consternation. “But what of you? I would have a guard watching your back as well. Until this mystery of who wants you killed is over with.”
“No, Nigel,” Maximilian replied, “I am already carrying a pistol with me, and will at all times, hidden under my coat. If I am attacked again, perhaps I can get a shot in and end this entire debacle.”
“That will hardly help matters if he manages to kill you just as you shoot, Your Grace.”
Grinning, Maximilian rose from the chair. “We shall see. Please, find this ex-soldier today. I want him here and in his new role by this evening.”
“I will leave right now, Your Grace.”
Now feeling better and less worried, Maximilian limped to the stables to make his usual rounds, listen to reports of the head grooms, and inspect the horses. As usual, the mere trek amid the buildings that housed his beloved horses soothed his spirits and calmed his mind. The animals themselves, just by their presence, created a balm over his soul. He offered pieces of carrots as he walked among them, caressed noses, and felt free.
“With your permission, Your Grace,” Fergus said, pacing at his side. “I would send a few of these older bairns with their dams to the upper pasture.”
Maximilian started to nod agreement but hesitated.Whoever this villain is might strike at me through the horses.“Yes, do it, but I want grooms watching over them. Day and night. Rotate them so they all get sleep and food.”
“Fearing yon blighter might try to steal them?”
“Doubtful, since I seem to be the target, but I am also trying to take as few chances as I can.”
“Perhaps you should have a guard on you, Your Grace. I have stout lads in here, any of them would be glad for the opportunity to watch your back.”
“I know,” Maximilian replied, walking on, gazing at the foals and their mothers in the stalls. “I do appreciate their loyalty…and yours. But I will be fine without a guard.”
“If you say so.”
“How many mare and foals will you send to the pasture?”
Fergus rubbed his chin. “Ach, we have fully a dozen bairns over a month old, Your Grace. I believe those will benefit from growing up on grass as well as keep their dams healthy. That would leave only eight others inside.”
“Do it,” Maximilian said. “But keep all the remaining mares and foals in one area. It will be easier to keep a sharp watch on them.”
Fergus eyed him with open concern. “You truly feel that someone might try to harm the horses?”
