It was hard to take his mind off of Kimberly and Canston going off together, but Lachlan finally managed, “What of Ranald? Did he have any luck?”
“Nay, though he did say he thinks the official search has been called off.”
“Why?”
“His guess is the horses have been found, but no one’s lettin’ on aboot it.”
“Blast, I was hoping we’d have a place tae set up watch, tae catch the thief when he shows up tae feed the animals or move them…wait a minute. If no one’s letting on—then the horses havena been returned here. So St. James has set up a watch for himself, has he?”
“Ye think so?”
“Aye, ’tis what I’d do. But he’s hoping tae catch you or Ranald, I dinna doubt. And I’m hoping he doesna botch it. But call off Ranald’s hunt. I dinna want him walking in on this place by accident in his own search.”
“Och, that’d be the worst luck, and no one would believe he was innocent.”
“No more’n they did me,” Lachlan said bitterly.
“Nay.” Gilleonan chuckled, stuffing another bite of tender salmon into his mouth before he added, “I’d say all the lassies around here had more’n a wee bit o’ faith in ye, or ye’d no’ be eatin’ so well.”
Kimberly had wanted to ride toward a desolate glade she’d spotted that afternoon, with what appeared to be an old woodcutter’s hut in the center of it, seemingly abandoned. It had occurred to her when she saw it that the hut was large enough to fit three horses, and she’d wondered if anyone had investigated it yet.
But as soon as she pointed it out to Howard, he had insisted they turn around, that he had an appointment he had forgotten about and would be late for if they didn’t head back immediately. She didn’t doubt him. He had certainly appeared agitated. He even whipped his horse unnecessarily for extra speed, at least until they cleared the woods, and the poor animal showed signs that it wasn’t the first time he’d been so misused. But when she had suggested he return without her, he wouldn’t hear of it.
So she hadn’t been in the best of moods when they’d returned to Sherring Cross, and what was worse was she wasn’t sure if she could even find her way back to where she’d seen that woodcutter’s hut that she still wanted to investigate. Then she’d gotten even more frustrated when she tried to find Megan and couldn’t.
Not until dinner was served that night did Megan make an appearance, and alone. The duke wasn’t with her, nor would he be joining them that evening, she announced. That was fine with Kimberly, since she was still infuriated with him for convicting Lachlan out of hand.
But she had to wait until the meal was over to find a chance to draw Megan away for a private word. And when they finally slipped into the library together, Megan had some of her own news to impart.
“The horses have been found.”
Kimberly blinked. “They have?”
“Yes, in an old hut on the west side of the woods,” Megan said.
“Amazing,” Kimberly replied, shaking her head in bemusement at the irony. “I think I came across that place just today. I wanted to go and check it out, but I was with Viscount Canston at the time, and he had some kind of appointment he was late for, so we returned here. But I was going to try and find it again tomorrow.”
“No, no, don’t do that. Devlin is there now, with a dozen or so men, just waiting for someone to show up. And he’s even more furious than he was before, because whoever put the horses there, left them theretogether. Two mares and a stallion, without anything to separate them…it’s a wonder that old building is still standing.”
Kimberly blushed. This was not a subject for a lady’s ears.
“I assume, since His Grace is still there, that the thief wasn’t. But was there no clue left behind as to who he really is?” Kimberly asked.
“M’dear, I know you think Lachlan is innocent—” Megan began gently.
“I don’t just think it, I—”
Kimberly hesitated. Now was the time for the truth, the real truth, that was. And she was reasonably sure that if she told Megan, it wouldn’t go any further—well, only a bit further, since the duke would also have to be told. And there is where she balked.
St. James, stuffy duke that he was, would feel obliged to tell her father. A matter of responsibility and such. He would also feel it his duty to ask her if anything untoward had happened during that night she spent with Lachlan. She could honestly say nothing did—that night. But her guilt from that other night might show through and then…no, she still couldn’t do it, especially after what she had discovered about Will Ables today.
So she began again, saying instead, “Let me ask you something, Megan. Would you say Lachlan’s Scots brogue was thick?”
“No, actually, it’s very light, sometimes not even noticeable, now you mention it. I have a footman whose brogue is so heavy, I can barely understand him, yet MacGregor’s burr is quite lyrical.”
Kimberly nodded, continuing confidently now, “I always thought so myself, but did you know that your groom, Will Ables, thinks otherwise?”
“He does?”
