Robert sat down in an armchair while Freddie took another, gesturing for the footman to pour for them. “Whiskey, please. Yes, I did. I am looking forward to attending.”
“Two whiskeys. Yes, it should be an interesting event.”
Robert accepted his drink from the footman, and eyed his friend. “So any news on whoever is trying to do you in, old chap?”
“Not really.” Freddie sipped his whiskey, shaking his head. “Though I suspect it is based on an old grudge against my father.”
Robert lifted his brow. “Do tell.”
“Well, it’s dreadfully boring, really,” Freddie said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his left leg over his right. “The Duke of Bradford has held a grudge against my father for years, claims my father stole from him.”
“That is hardly boring, old chap. I am riveted. Carry on.”
Freddie chuckled. “Now that my father is dead, perhaps he means to kill me as well. He believes the stolen items are here in this house.”
“You do not think the Duke was behind the robbery that killed your parents, do you?”
Freddie nodded. “That thought did cross our minds.”
“How dreadful.” Robert finished his glass and raised it toward the footman for a refill. “Can any of this be proven?”
“Thea sent a letter to the Bradfords to inquire if we might pay a call on them,” Freddie replied, raising his own tumbler. “I plan to ask them directly if they had anything to do with it. Or are trying even now to kill me.”
Robert snorted. “Freddie, do you really expect the Duke to say, ‘yes, I did your parents in and now I will do the same to you’?”
“Of course not. But their reaction to my presence and what theydosay will tell me much.”
“Hmm. Well, you may be right on that score.”
“Thea’s presence will make it a social call as opposed to an accusation.”
“Are you mad? You cannot take your sister into a den of wolves.”
Now Freddie’s brow rose. “It is only a den of wolves, as you say, if they are guilty.”
“And you cannot know until you are there.” Robert shook his head. “I think she should stay here. I will go in her stead.”
“Then itwillappear to be an accusation, Robert,” Freddie said with a tiny grin. “Thank you for the offer, but no. Thea will not come to harm, I promise you. Are you ready for the hunt, then?”
* * *
Riding across the hills beside Freddie and following his small pack of hunting dogs, Robert nudged his horse into a faster pace as the hounds bayed, following the trail of what he hoped was a stag. His blunderbuss in his hand, he whooped as he saw the deer in the distance, leaping rocks and thickets. “We have him now, eh?” he said to Freddie, who urged his grey horse up alongside Robert’s.
“Do not assume you have your quarry until it is dead at your feet,” Freddie responded, yet his grin flared wide. “Never tempt the fates.”
The dogs closed in on the fleeing beast, as did their horses, the group of footmen and grooms following behind on foot. Drawing a bit closer, Robert did observe the antlers atop of the deer’s head and spurred his mount into a dead run. The stag leapt a stone wall, the hounds flowing across it in a white and brown wave.
“It is going to escape,” Robert despaired, knowing he was too far away for a good shot.
“Unless the hounds can stop it,” Freddie said, his horse jumping the wall at the same moment Robert’s did.
They both heard the hounds’ baying change, and hope surged in Robert’s heart. “They have it!” he exclaimed.
Sure enough, the dogs had caught the stag, severing its hamstrings. Crippled, the deer bleated in terror as Robert and Freddie reined in, raising their rifles. They both fired, and the big stag went down, the hounds swarming over the body. Though their horses spooked at the sound of the shots, they kept their seats and their hands firm on their reins kept their mounts from bolting.
Both of them jumped down from their saddles and whipped the dogs off the dead stag, then stood over their prize, gazing down at the dead deer.
“That is a beauty,” Freddie said, his tone admiring. “I trust you will stay for a venison dinner this evening?”
