“I still cannot believe you dragged him all that way, Eugenia,” Lady Helena said, taking the cup from him and refilling it to bring it back full. “I do not think I could have done so.”
“Love gave me strength.”
The droopiness of her eyelids heralded her need for sleep and rest. Maximilian stood. “Go back to sleep then, my angel. Get your rest. I will send Mr. Leary in to see to you.”
Eugenia did just that. Walking to the door, he glanced at Lady Helena. “You should get some rest, too.”
“I will, Your Grace, as soon as Clara gets here.”
Leaving the room, he was startled to find Mr. Oldman standing outside the guest chamber. In his worry over Eugenia, he had forgotten about her bodyguard. The former soldier bowed. “Will she be all right, Your Grace?” he asked.
“Yes, with time and rest.” He held his anger until he heard what the man had to say. “Well? What happened last night?”
“Miss Betham was walking in the garden and saw the man in the cloak running toward the stable,” he said.
Maximilian nodded; he had gathered that much from Eugenia. “Go on.”
“I chased after him, hoping I might actually catch him this time,” Mr. Oldman continued, his voice and expression neutral. “But I fear he either heard or saw me. I rounded the building, and he hit me. When I woke up, the stable was engulfed. I could not find Miss Betham anywhere and just learned where she was about an hour ago.”
His anger subsiding, Maximilian offered the man a small smile. “He hit me, as well. If not for Miss Betham, they would be digging me from the rubble right now.”
“I should not have left her, Your Grace.”
“I myself ordered her to stay in the castle,” Maximilian said dryly. “She did not obey, but I am alive because of her disobedience. So, I certainly cannot point fingers. Are you well enough to continue guarding her?”
“Mr. Leary says so.”
“Good. Carry on, then.”
Maximilian returned to his own chambers. Yawning, he went in to find his valet up and prepared to serve him. Wishing he could go to his bed and sleep for the rest of the day, he nevertheless let his valet wash, shave, and help him dress. After breakfast with his guests, he would go to what remained of his foaling stable and find out what exactly had happened.
Exhausted and sore, a formal breakfast was not what he wanted. But his position as host demanded it, thus he went downstairs and joined them, smiling as though nothing at all had happened, the small crowd entering the dining hall. The Duke and Duchess of Dentonshire waited for him, offering their condolences for the loss of his stable and their relief that he had shrugged off most of his injuries.
“How is the young miss?” the Duke asked. “Will she survive?”
“She woke this morning and was talking,” Maximilian answered. “I think she will be just fine.”
“Jolly good,” he replied, ushering Maximilian and his Duchess into the hall ahead of him. “Such courage and resilience. You are quite lucky, young man.”
Maximilian casually took his place at the head of the table. Of course, the talk at breakfast was of the fire the previous night and the cause, much to Augusta’s obvious chagrin. Though she tried numerous times to change the subject, she was overruled. Wilmot met no one’s eyes and drank heavily, slouching in his chair with his shoulders rounded. Augusta frowned at him but said nothing.
“I say, Bromenville,” said Dentonshire. “I would like to accompany you this morning when you go out. I should like to know how this fire started.”
The Duke’s words fell into a lull in the conversation, and Maximilian’s reply spoke loud and clear into the nearly silent room. “Clearly it was arson, but exactly how, I do not know. Save that it was yet another attempt on my life.”
“Please, Maximilian,” Augusta said, smiling as though at a joke heard many times over. “No one is trying to kill you. I am sure the fire was an accident.”
Maximilian watched her for a long moment without speaking, then turned back to Dentonshire. “I would welcome your company and opinions, Duke.”
“I should like to come as well,” Earl Whitington said into the uncomfortable hush. “I may not be able to assist in finding this fiend who has been trying to kill you, Your Grace, but count on my support.”
Several men around the table expressed their wishes to accompany him, and thus after breakfast, Maximilian headed a group of nine men as he walked toward the remains of his foaling stable. There, they were met by Nigel and Fergus. Beyond them, workmen had begun to rake the still smoking embers out to squash them, and Maximilian gazed at the rubble in silence.
Finally, he glanced at Fergus. “Where are the horses?”
“All safely in the fields, Your Grace,” he replied. “I checked them all over myself. A few with very minor burns that will heal in time. I must also tell you, Your Grace, that your bunching them into the stalls close to the door is what saved them. Had they been all over the place, I know we would have lost several.”
“That is good to know. Now how the devil did that evil man start this?”
