“Very good, My Lord. I’ll do that straight away. But you need to look here.” Donohue gestured to the paddock where the stallion walked in circles, still nervous. “See? Someone has scraped away the pin we’d put in place. I drove the pin myself, and intentionally put a pin through the hook that was too large.”
“Why would you use a larger pin?” Evan asked, staring at the wood that had clearly been nicked.
“Just for such an incident as this. Not that I thought anyone might steal the creature—though for something so fine and rare as this, that’s certainly a possibility—but so that it didn’t fall out by mistake and free the stallion. I had to force it in place with a mallet after we’d gotten the horse inside. Whoever removed the pin and opened the gate had to have gone to great effort to do so.”
Evan stared at the latch for a long time, his mind working in circles. He turned to Donohue with a defeated look on his face, one the stable master had not seen since Evan was but a boy.
“Who would hate me so much as this?” he asked.
“My Lord?”
“Who could have it in for me this way? I cannot think of anyone I’ve injured so cruelly that they would constantly seek to be a thorn in my side. Surely I’ve heaped some unforgiveable insult upon someone, or else what cause would they have to do this? Poisoning my horses, putting every soul here in very real peril… but for what offense?”
“I know not, My Lord, but begging your deepest pardon…” Donohue paused, weighing his words carefully, “could it not be the work of a jealous rival? Or someone with a grudge against your family as a whole?”
Evan shook his head. “I simply cannot see how. Someone is intent on ruining not just my fortune and my interests, but my very name as well.” He stared hard at the stallion who was still pacing nervously around the small fenced plot. “But I will know who this villain is, and when I find out, I will kill him myself.”
Chapter 13
The long road home gave Marjorie ample time to ponder her new situation. Had she really not expected to be successful? Apparently not, as now that she’d secured a position, she had to wonder how she would get there? What would she do? How would she explain her lengthy absence from the household? Surely, Father and Harriet would notice if she continued to disappear each morning.
The answer came to her in a flash: she must visit friends in London, of course! Only she would really be quite close to home instead. But whom could she pin down as an excuse?
Oh, what was that woman’s name at the Lanercost dinner? Marjorie thought frantically. Yes, Lady Lucente, that was it!
With a renewed energy in her step now that her first obstacle had been overcome, Marjorie hurried home. She saw an unfamiliar carriage out front, which meant that Father still had guests… and that they would be departing soon.
Unfortunately, the kitchen was a flurry of activity as Mrs. Stapleton, Diana, and even the butler pitched in to fill the gaps left by the long-missing household staff. Marjorie caught Diana’s eye, giving the poor woman a fright when she looked up and spied a young man in the window beside the kitchen door.
“What are you doing, My Lady?” Diana whispered, coming to the door but keeping a watchful eye over her shoulder.
“I’m just now returned! I have to get to my room.” Marjorie looked frantic, watching closely to see that the cook didn’t notice their discussion.
“Hmmm, wait until I cause them to turn their backs to the door. Be ready, all right?”
Marjorie nodded, so Diana closed the door softly and walked across the kitchen. On the far side of the work table that stood in the middle of the large space, Diana looked to Marjorie and nodded slightly, then picked up a heavy pot of boiling water. She turned away from the table and dropped the entire pot, splashing the scalding liquid all over.
For a moment, Marjorie almost ran to Diana amidst the young woman’s screams of agony, but Diana cast her a quick glance that told her everything was fine. She jerked her head towards the stairs as Mrs. Stapleton and the butler, Dabney, raced to her aide.
Marjorie hurried up the rough-hewn staircase, hoping that Diana had not actually been hurt in her attempt at deception. She reached the top and ducked through the narrow door that led to the hallway, hoping everyone was still occupied with their guests.
With a sigh of relief, Marjorie snuck into her room and closed the door. She stood still, looking around the vast room with its fine furnishings, feeling both relief at being back in her element after such a harrowing day but also a sudden strangeness. Were these her things? Her gowns? Her dressing table with a gold filigree box holding expensive trinkets and jewels?
After spending only a matter of hours in the guise of an invisible stable boy, this room felt foreign to her. The sound of Diana’s scream—false though she hoped it to be—still rung in her ears. Had Marjorie truly allowed a dear, loyal servant to put herself in harm’s way only to save Marjorie’s reputation?
Was that really who she was?
“Who are you? What are you doing in here?” a shrill scream demanded. Marjorie whipped around in a panic to see Harriet standing in the doorway, her hand still on the door handle. “Help! Someone!”
Marjorie raced to the doorway and grabbed Harriet, who fought with clenched fists and kicking feet. She managed to clamp her hand over her younger sister’s mouth and drag her into the room, closing the door behind them.
“Harriet! Stop, it’s only me!” Marjorie insisted, her heart pounding as she tried to listen for approaching footsteps. “You may have doomed me just now, help me out of these clothes!”
“Marjorie? But… but why? Why are you dressed so?” Harriet said, crying. Still, she did as Marjorie bade her and began unfastening the buttons on the front of her sister’s vest while Marjorie frantically pulled pins from her hair.
“I will tell you everything in due course, but help me! If anyone heard you just now, they’ll be sending the constable after the way you screamed!”
Both girls hurried behind Marjorie’s dressing screen, and only barely managed to get Marjorie’s nightgown on her before the door flew open. Charles stood in the doorway, looking horrified; his guest, upon seeing Marjorie in her state of undress, immediately turned away and waited far from the open door.
