Simon nodded as he set the horses in motion. “Yes, but first I’ll study Lord Foxton’s notes. Maybe there will be some clue that will give us more to work with.”
“Do you have a portrait of Lucas you could lend to Kirkland? That might be helpful.”
He gave a sharp nod. “That’s an excellent idea. I have a miniature that’s a good likeness. I’ll take that along.”
After riding several blocks in silence, Suzanne asked in a neutral voice, “Would you rather not go to your estate so you can focus on this investigation?”
He had a painfully intense memory of her warm, pliable body in his arms that morning. “I absolutely do not wish to forfeit my honeymoon,ma chérie,” he said immediately. “Do you?”
Her smile lit up her eyes. “I’m looking forward to a few days having you to myself. We still have much to learn about each other.”
Yes, and he would relish every moment.
Chapter 10
The weather was cloudy but dry for their trip to White Horse Manor. It was late afternoon and the sun was just beginning to emerge when Simon said, “Chérie,we’ll be on my land once we turn this corner.”
Suzanne had been drowsing in the corner of the carriage, but she came alert at his announcement. “Good! It’s been some time since our luncheon and I’m ready for tea.”
“We’ll make a quick stop here.” Simon signaled for the driver to pause when they rounded the curve. When the vehicle had rumbled to a halt at the side of the road, Simon opened the door, flipped down the steps, then offered her a hand down. “There’s a fine view across the valley.”
She stepped from the coach, glad to stretch her legs, then gasped with surprise. She hadn’t thought much about the estate’s name, but now it made perfect sense. There was indeed a splendid view across the valley with quilted fields, hedges, copses, and a small, tree-lined river running along the valley floor.
And on the opposite side of the valley, a vast white horse was galloping along the hills. “What is that?” she breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“Meet the white horse for which this valley was named. These hills are part of the Berkshire Downs, which are made of chalk. The figure is cut deeply into the turf and the depression is filled with crushed white chalk.”
“It’s remarkable.” She studied the abstract shape, which said “galloping horse” without any real details. “Why doesn’t vegetation grow over it?”
“Plants try, but the figure is scoured regularly to keep the image clear.” He gestured at the white horse. “It’s visible from all front windows of the house. Rather magical to wake up in the morning and see that ancient image galloping across the vale.”
“I look forward to that.” Suzanne climbed back into the travel carriage. “Now I’m even more impatient to see the house!”
“Not much longer,” Simon promised. “Many of the servants and their families have been there since my grandfather first bought the manor and they take pride in running the estate well. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley are the butler and housekeeper, Mr. Roper is head groom. They’ve made my life much easier and they’ll do the same for you.”
The road had been following a stone wall. Just around the next bend the carriage turned between stone pillars into a long drive, which was lined on both sides with rows of trees and led to a handsome manor house.
Suzanne smiled as they approached. Built of golden-tan stone with a slate roof, the structure seemed to have grown out of the hill. It was friendly, unlike the vast, sprawling palaces of her life in France. “I think I am going to like White Horse Manor very well. How long until I can visit the stables?”
Simon chuckled at her impatience. “Almost immediately, though it’s too late in the day to go for a proper ride. But you can choose your mount for tomorrow.”
Suzanne was almost bubbling with excitement. The more time she spent with Simon, the younger she felt.
Since the servants knew they were coming, when the carriage pulled up before the house, a dozen interested people swiftly emerged to greet them, led by a middle-aged couple with an air of authority. After helping Suzanne from the carriage, Simon said formally, “Mr. and Mrs. Stanley, allow me to present my bride, Madame Suzanne Duval.”
“About time you returned, you rascal!” Mrs. Stanley gave Simon a robust hug, then turned to Suzanne and bobbed a curtsy. “Welcome to White Horse Manor, ma’am. A proper home needs a mistress and a nursery full of children.”
The hug Mrs. Stanley gave to her master was proof that she was an old family retainer. Wincing inwardly at the comment about children, Suzanne offered a hand. “I’m so happy to be here! My husband has spoken very highly of you and the other servants.”
The housekeeper gave a nod of approval. “Aye, I’ve spent my whole life here at White Horse Manor. This is Mr. Stanley, the butler.”
Her husband bowed, less effusive than his wife but equally interested in appraising his new mistress. “Welcome to White Horse Manor, madam.”
Simon looked along the row of servants that had lined up in front of the house. “More introductions are needed. Some faces look familiar, but others have grown from children to adults since I last saw them.”
Introductions were performed and Suzanne did her best to remember names and positions. Luckily the number wasn’t huge, but it would still take time to learn them. As Simon had implied, they seemed to be a contented lot.
After the introductions, Simon escorted her up the broad stairs and into the house. “The bedrooms are arranged like the town house. The mistress’s room is to the left, the master’s to the right, and a sitting room in between. The rooms are larger here, of course.”
