“Really?” Evan asked, looking up from his papers in alarm. “Is there any word from the Marshall?”
“He’s still with the horse now, sir, but insisted that I bring you at once.”
“Of course!” Evan leapt up from his desk and reached for his coat, waving off the footman who came forward and sliding his arms inside the sleeves as he followed.
His pulse raced at the pace Donohue was keeping. An older man who’d first entered his father’s employment as a lad, he was not accustomed to strenuous activity. At his hurried trot, Evan began to worry even more.
They reached the barn just as the Marshall was coming outside, snapping the latches on his black leather bag.
“Leeds, what is it?” Evan asked breathlessly.
“I don’t wish to alarm you, but your horse has ingested a toxin.” The Marshall held up a glass vial of foamy white sputum. “I will test this in my laboratory to see if I can identify which one, or at least which kind. I’ve also collected some of the animal’s feed, and some of the grass from the paddock where he’d been grazing.”
“To what end? What will you find out?” Evan asked, confused about how the animal had come to be in such a state.
“If I can isolate the kind of toxin, I can tell you whether this animal will live or die, or if it will require treatment… or a bullet. I can also give you some idea as to whether this may have been an unfortunate but natural occurrence, or if someone’s plotting against your stables.”
“A plot? But why? Who would do such a thing?” Evan looked to Donohue for an explanation, but he appeared equally confused.
“Considering some of the events of late that have required my attention, I’d say it’s long past time for you to involve the authorities. There have been several ‘coincidences’ that have resulted in injury to your livestock or your employees. Have you not noticed?” The Marshall’s tone had turned nearly accusing.
“I cannot say that I disagree with you, now that you make it plain to me. All I can say is that I hope you’re wrong,” Evan replied, his mind racing.
“I too, sir. Not only for your sake and that of your farm, but for the sake of these fine horses. They don’t deserve whatever someone may have in store. Whatever conflict someone has taken up with you, these animals shouldn’t bear the brunt of it. I’ll let you know what I can discover.”
Mr. Leeds tipped his hat and nodded, then left. Evan stared after him, confounded. Who could possibly have any grievance against his family, or enough of one that they would go to such lengths to bring ruin to him?
“Donohue, can you arrange for a detail among the stable hands to be on the lookout for anything unusual? I’m not certain that I agree with Mr. Leeds, but there’s no denying that strange injuries have happened as of late.”
“Of course, sir. And I intend to remain here with Cavalier personally to watch over him.”
“Thank you, Donohue. That will certainly make me feel better to know that he’s in your capable hands. Please send word in the morning of his condition.”
“Of course, My Lord.” Donohue bowed slightly and went to bring a chair to place beside Cavalier’s stall. Evan looked in on the horse and frowned, worry coloring his features.
Chapter 6
“Harriet, are you almost ready?” Marjorie asked, rapping lightly on her sister’s door. “Lady Lasconia expects us shortly.”
“Yes, I’ll be there straight away. Diana is finishing my hair!” her sister called back.
“I’ll wait for you downstairs then,” Marjorie answered, turning to go to the foyer.
Downstairs, she stared at her reflection in the glass, pausing a moment to push back a stray black curl. She knew better than to think this pleasant meeting was anything other than an inspection, as her mother would have inspected a horse at the auction. Her hair had to be just so, as did her dress, as did her teeth and nails, she assumed.
“I’m here,” Harriet said, slightly out of breath. “But I know not why you should need a chaperone if you’re only going to meet His Grace’s sister.”
“Perchance the Duke should be there, then it would be unseemly for me to arrive and depart alone,” Marjorie explained. “Besides, it’ll give you more experience and connection having been to the lady’s attendance.”
“I see. I’ll never keep all these rules straight in my mind! How do you manage it?”
“Well, I did have Mother for far longer than you to guide my manners in these things. Other things I’ve simply had to make a study of now that I’ve had to endure being ‘eligible,’ I suppose.”
“I fear I shall never make sense of it all. Who’s a lord, which one is a lady, how to address a duke rather than a marquess… it all seems like another world from mine, another language they speak. Oh Marjorie, please do not let me show myself a fool at Lady Lasconia’s!”
“Never fear, she is a mere mortal like the rest of us,” Marjorie said with a laugh. “Only speak politely and answer her directly, and I’m sure all else will be fine.”
The sisters rode together in the open carriage, Marjorie holding the reins. Their father—and perhaps the Duke and his sister as well—might have preferred the girls arrive in more style, led by a driver and a team. Marjorie, though, wouldn’t hear of it. She rarely trusted another to drive her horses, knowing they were either too timid on the lead or too tyrannical on the reins.
