Chapter Forty-Six
Sebastian stood in the chaff room looking down at the dusty saddle he had laid on the table. He glanced up as the door opened and Thompson walked in. The man’s gaze fell on saddle.
‘Where did you find that?’ he asked.
Sebastian shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. This is the saddle the last Lord Somerton was using the night he died?’
Thompson crossed to the table and ran a hand across the bow of the saddle with its delicate reproduction of the Somerton arms.
‘Aye. Never seen a saddle like it before or since. His lordship told me it were the best saddle he’d ever used.’
‘Who gave the order for it to be destroyed?’
Thompson frowned. ‘I don’t rightly remember.’
‘Think, man!’
Thompson brightened. ‘Her ladyship.’
Sebastian’s heart sank, but Thompson ran a hand through his thinning hair.
‘No, wait. It were Mr. Lynch what brought the message. He said her ladyship never wanted to see the saddle again. I told theboy—’ Thompson broke off, his mouth tightening in a grim line. ‘I’ll give him what for when I see him.’
‘No,’ Sebastian said. ‘You will not give him what for. What the boy did was to preserve some very important evidence.’ He held up the cut end of the girth. ‘Look closely and tell me what you see.’
Thompson held up the strap to his eyes. He set it down and looked at Sebastian, the colour draining from his face.
‘It’s been cut.’
Sebastian nodded.
He could almost see Thompson thinking through the ramifications of the discovery.
‘There are stories that Lord Somerton was the father of your daughter’s child,’ Sebastian stated.
Thompson’s eyebrows shot up. ‘No! I mean ... are you saying I did this, my lord? I assure you I checked the saddle meself that very afternoon and there was naught wrong with it then.’
Sebastian shook his head. ‘I’m not saying you are involved, Thompson, but what has struck me is that there are two suspicious deaths here at Brantstone within a short time of each other. Your daughter... and Lord Somerton. Is it possible they are related?’
Thompson shook his head. ‘It weren’t Lord Somerton who fathered Amy’s bairn.’
‘And you know that for certain?’
Thompson gave a disgusted snort of laughter. ‘A pretty girl like my Amy wasn’t to his lordship’s taste. I came across his lordship when he weren’t but a boy, sportin’ in the hayloft with one of the young footmen from the house. No, it weren’t Lord Somerton.’
Sebastian looked down at the saddle. Some nagging instinct told him the key to unwinding the tangle lay in this inanimate object.
‘Thompson. I would like you to take this saddle and find a new place to secrete it.’
‘My lord?’
‘And replace an old saddle in that chaff bin.’ He pointed to the bin where Peter had kept the saddle hidden.
Thompson looked mystified but kept his peace. ‘Of course, my lord.’
‘One last thing, Thompson. Did you see Lord Somerton’s body?’
Thompson nodded.
