“My Lord, I have a mix of pleasant and unwelcome news,” Donohue said. “Mr. Leeds has only just this moment departed. He was able to determine that yes, there was something toxic added to the feed.”
“What?” Evan shouted, jumping to his feet and overturning the stool where he’d only meant to rest for a moment.
“Yes, but the better news is that it should not prove fatal. These horses are all mature and well cared for, so they should make a full recovery. His analysis is that they should fully recover, but that a lesser animal than these fine horses could have been permanently harmed.”
Donohue shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, unaccustomed to bringing such fateful news to his lordship’s attention. He awaited Evan’s reaction, but knew that the younger man would take it better than some.
“What does he recommend for these three?” Evan pressed, looking into their stalls for any sign of reassurance.
“Only that they continue receiving excellent care here. Plenty of fresh water to drink, soft oats for digestion, and new apples to aid in… well, My Lord… forgive me. But to aid in helping them ‘cleanse’ the toxin from their bodies?”
Evan smiled at Donohue’s attempt at decorum. “Of course. Whatever they need.”
“He did suggest getting them up and walking as soon as they seem up to it. Moving around will also dilute the toxin as it moves through their blood and is released. Something about breathing heavier, too, but I wasn’t sure of his meaning.”
“Yes, the heavier they breathe from the extra effort, the more likely they’ll expel whatever poison that heartless bastard fed them,” he answered, glowering darkly. “If I find out who did this, there will be a tree splattered in their blood when I’m done tying them up and beating them with a lash! To think that someone could do this to noble, trusting creatures such as these, and for what? To bring ruin upon my household? My good name? What?”
“I know not, My Lord, although I agree with the sentiment wholeheartedly!” Donohue replied. “Tis a monstrous scoundrel who could wish harm upon a lowly beast, let alone actually lift a hand to enact it.”
“Well, we cannot trouble ourselves with that right now. Let us get these poor horses up and moving, bring them to the trough—no, wait. Let the hands walk them slowly to the brook beyond the paddock so they can have their fill of water. Tell the hands they’re to allow them to stop if ever their steps begin to falter, and remain beside the brook with them until late afternoon. If the horses choose to lie down beside it, so be it. They’re not to return until this afternoon so that they can drink only the freshest clear water.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Donohue answered fervently. “I’ll personally pack up a sack of oats for each horse as well.”
“Very good. Oh dear, and please remember to pack up some food for the hands to carry with them! I’m a cad myself for thinking only of the horses and not the empty stomachs of those who are charged with caring for them!” Evan looked sheepish, realizing that—speaking to a lower born man in his employment—he’d clearly forgotten the needs of the humans at this stable.
“Not at all, My Lord,” Donohue said, smiling slightly. “I knew you only meant you were worried for these innocent victims, and not neglectful of the boys. I would have taken care of sending along some victuals for the hands as well!”
Evan breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Donohue. And still, though they may be on the mend, please still keep me apprised of their condition. I hope for nothing but word of their fast improvement! We’ll talk soon about how to stop whatever vagrant is meting such hateful punishment on this stable.”
Donohue bowed and went to his work, leaving Evan to rub the scruff of a beard forming on his face as he looked around. He’d practically grown up in this very barn, intent as his father had been on him becoming a skillful horseman. Some days, it felt as though the only tie still keeping him to his beloved father were these horses.
And I’ll be damned and forgotten before I willingly allow someone to take this from me!he thought angrily.
In short time, Evan left the stables and headed up to the main house. Along the way, he remembered that he had some amends to make with his mother for arriving late to her dinner, sparing a few words for only those nearest him, then beating a hasty retreat to the barns. His heart filled with dread at the visions of how he’d have to make it up to her: a tiresome afternoon playing at cards with a gaggle of ton nobles and their families, a never-ending evening of music, a ball or two perhaps, or worse… another dinner in his home.
“Good morning, Mother,” he said as he paused in the doorway of the small sitting room where she took her breakfast.
Instead of a look of stern reproach, her face lit up at the sight of her only son. “Evan, darling. I’m so glad you’ve come in.”
“I apologize for last night, truly I do, but—” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.
“Nonsense. Your behavior last night was quite odd, but it also wasn’t like you. Of course I sent someone to inquire as to what was happening. When they told me about the horses, I spoke briefly to our guests about the situation, then didn’t think of it again. I know how much they matter to you, and they are far more important than any old dinner party!”
He breathed a sigh of relief and returned her smile. “I’m so glad you understand, Mother. But I’ll make it up to you. Should I accompany you on a ride this afternoon? You could take the carriage and we’ll make the rounds of the village square. We could even stop off at a few of your guests’ homes and let me apologize in person.”
“That would be lovely, but there’s no apology needed, I assure you! Everyone understood, and to be honest, they were quite worried, too. Tis no secret how much the horses matter to you. They’re the life blood of this manor and pardon my saying so…” Lady Lanercost dropped her voice politely before adding, “they’re the very framework of your fortune.”
“Oh, not at all. Father left us in quite good stead. The farm is simply a passion of mine, and not anything that needs put bread on the table!” Evan argued, but he acknowledged the truth in her words.
He had more than tripled his fortune since even before his father had passed away, all thanks to their excellent stock of thoroughbreds and his attention to finding the most excellent lineages he could trace. Evan had spared no expense investing in Arabians, and his business dealings with the American experts had brought a new line of weather-hearty, strong horses to breed with his stock.
His bank balance and reputation as an expert in his field notwithstanding, Evan’s greatest pride was in providing for his mother and sisters. His years spent building their farm alongside his father had provided ample dowries to them, and they had both secured auspicious, happy marriages as a result. Now that he had come into his own annual allowance as the Earl of Lanercost, it did his heart good to be able to pass one-third of the amount to each sister every year, reserving a third for his mother’s well-being as well.
“What time would you prefer, Mother?” Evan asked, taking note of the day of the week and remembering that evening’s races.
“Rather early, I should think,” she answered, smiling yet lost in thought. “I do love having the house filled with guests, but it does fatigue me so. I’d prefer to be out after midday and home in time for a quiet dinner and a lovely book.”
“That sounds ideal. I’ll make sure the carriage is ready by… one o’clock?” When his mother nodded, Evan added, “I promise to be more presentable by then, but begging your leave, I slept in a horse stall last night. I should like a bath and a long rest before we head out.”
