“Oh, I don’t think ’e’d mind.” Tim shifted his weight, resting a hand on the stall door. “From what I’ve seen, Mr. Darcy’s a skilled ’orseman. I’m sure she’ll be well tended.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you. I hope so.”
“Well, I’ve work to do.” With a nod, he left me.
When Lily had gobbled the last of her treats, I resumed stroking her head and neck. After a while, she leaned against the stall door, and her muzzle nudged my upper arm. She wanted me to take her out—take herhome. A sudden well of tears filled my eyes, and I blinked to contain them.
“I am sorry, girl. I cannot take you with me. I wish I could.” My fingers caressed the downy skin of her nose. “You must be a good girl, Lily. I know you can do this. Do not give Mr. Darcy a reason to be displeased with you.” I shuddered through a deep breath. Despite my inclination to remain longer, Iresolved to stay no more than half an hour to avoid being seen by Mr. Darcy. With a sigh, I gave Lily a final pat and left her.
Darcy
Hayward and I called upon Mr. Walter Rowe, who lived on the outskirts of Salisbury. Based upon the amiable widower’s grey, thinning hair and the lines present upon his visage, he must be near the end of his sixth decade. The cleft in his chin drew my notice when we exchanged greetings.
We took seats in the parlour, and Mr. Rowe served us a citrus ratafia he had purchased last month from a London shop on Bond Street. Hayward’srapportwith the elder gentleman became obvious in the affectionate way they teased one another. Mr. Rowe asked after Hayward’s parents, and my friend shared tidings from their most recent missive. We spent a pleasant couple of hours at Mr. Rowe’s home, and in the course of our conversation, I verified that he had spent most of August in town.
When we entered Hayward’s carriage, I lightly chided him for not naming Mr. Rowe as a possible suspect.
He stared at me for a long moment before his lower jaw dropped. “Of course, you are correct. I suppose my friendship with him blinded me to any possibility that he could be the man in question. Rowe would never harm anyone.”
“I understand.” Yesterday, I had endured a frustrating conversation with the local cobbler, a curt, impatient man who made no effort to be helpful. He averred to not know of any customers who fitted the suspect’s description. In any case, I had met two men of the right age with cleft chins who had spent August in town: Mr. Rowe and Mr. Barton. The suggestion that either of them could be a murderer seemed ludicrous. Nevertheless, I should write to Mr. Notley tonight and provide the two names.
When the coach turned off the avenue, movement in one of the paddocks caught my notice: a sorrel horse cantered around the perimeter of theenclosure.Could it be…?I moved closer to the window, narrowing my eyes to make out the distinctive white markings. Yes, it was Lily.
“What do you see, Darcy?”
I glanced at Hayward. “Lily is in the paddock. She has been depressed since her arrival, but her spirits seem to have improved today.”
“Hmm, I may know the reason for the alteration in her.”
I shifted towards him. “What do you mean?”
“Earlier today, Tim remarked that Miss Bennet paid Lily a visit this morning. As you may expect, the mare took delight in seeing her, and her presence appears to have had a lasting effect.”
“So you believe Miss Bennet is the sole reason for Lily’s elevated mood?”
Hayward shrugged. “That is Tim’s conclusion, and I trust his instincts above anyone else’s in matters related to horses.”
“Would that I had never set eyes upon the deuced horse! There is no possible way for me to remedy the situation now.” I pressed my knuckles to my mouth.
With a slow, sedate nod, my friend rested his folded hands upon his lap. “That is true. Nevertheless, if Miss Bennet knew you better and could be assured you would treat Lily well, at least she would be free from that particular worry.”
“Perhaps so, but as you witnessed, she is inclined to avoid me.” I ground my teeth.
“According to Tim, Miss Bennet arrived at just past eight this morning, and she intends to return tomorrow.” Hayward displayed a crooked smile.
“I see.” Unless she failed to come, I should meet Miss Bennet at the stables tomorrow. But what should I say to her? I silently rehearsed several possible dialogues.
By the time we entered the house, I had formed a plan of how I might address her, and the prospect of a conversation with her no longer seemed daunting. In fact, the morning could not come soon enough to suit me. I continued to my chambers with a fresh burst of energy fuelling my steps.
Wednesday, 18 September
Springvale
Darcy
As I neared the stable building, Tim walked out towards the large paddock. He whistled a merry tune and led a grey horse. He caught sight of me, halted, and tipped his hat. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. Shall I saddle Regal for you?”
“Yes, thank you.” I leaned closer to utilise a lower tone. “Have you seen Miss Bennet this morning?”
