“Is this Mr. Chilton’s mount?”
The lad nodded. “Aye, sir. The one wot’s had the accident.”
“Where is the tack?”
A gesture indicated one of the stalls, where a worn saddle hung over the gate. The earl his hand lightly over the leather, and noted that the family was definitely not plump in the pocket. Though well cared for, the saddle was old, with signs of unavoidable wear and fraying. It was no wonder that an accident had occurred. Likely the grith had finally snapped, he reasoned, picking up the length of leather to feel for?—
His fingers stopped abruptly. There were no signs of fraying where it had come apart. The ends were smooth and clean, right down to the last half inch, which had been left to snap on its own.
Holding it up the light, he examined it carefully and then uttered a low oath. There was no question that it had been cut it with a sharp blade.
Justin wincedas Alex straightened the bed pillow. “It still aches like the devil,” he muttered, fingering the egg-shaped swelling on the back of his head.
“It’s lucky you have a thick skull,” she answered with a smile, though a chill knifed through her on thinking what might have happened. It was a miracle he had suffered no more serious injury than a knock on the head. “And it must be even thicker than I imagined, given that you tried to race your friends on poor Artemis, who is nearly as ancient as Methuselah. Why, he must have stumbled and sent you over his ears.”
Justin flushed. “He may not be quite up to snuff for such challenges, but a gentleman can’t back off from sport with his friends, even if his mount is a nag sure to be beaten.”
It was clear that more than his head was bruised. “Of course not,” she murmured. “Perhaps you might pay a visit to Tattersall’s and purchase a more suitable horse.”
“We can’t afford it.” There was no bitterness in his voice, merely practicality … and perhaps a touch of longing.
“We actually can,” countered Alex. “Town has not been as expensive as Aunt Aurelia and I had anticipated. I think we can manage the extra expenditure.”
He made a face. “You should have a new gown,. Something more … dashing.”
She looked away. “We’re not here going to waste money on me,” she muttered, trying to push away a sudden frisson of longing.Hell’s bells—here was no earthly reason to bedissatisfied with the gowns she had. Even if they were outdated and not terribly flattering.
Repressing a sigh, Alex quickly changed the subject. “The doctor thinks you only have to stay in bed another day or two.”
“A day or two!” he protested. “I feel quite well enough right now.” He made as if to rise, then fell back with a sharp intake of breath.
Deciding no comment was necessary, she moved to the window and rearranged the curtains so that the bed was shielded from the late afternoon sun.
The door opened and the maid brought in a large tray of tea things and a plate of fragrant cakes fresh from the oven.
The aunt followed right behind her “I thought we might take tea with you, Justin, now that you’re feeling better. I’m glad to see you have some color back in your cheeks—you had us quite worried, you know.”
“Sorry.” He slanted a glance at his sister. “But as Alex has said, we’re both too hard-headed to come to any harm.”
Lady Beckworth seated herself and began to pour. “Let us hope that no more accidents
happen.” She turned to Alex. “I just realized that I have totally forgotten to ask you how your visit to Kew Gardens was. I know how much you were looking forward to it.”
“It was more impressive than I ever dreamed,” she answered. “The plants … oh, how can I describe it all!” She sighed. Then noting Justin’s scowl, she waggled her brows. “And as you can see, I have arrived safely home with my virtue intact.”
“It’s not a joking matter,” glowered her brother.
Lady Beckworth chose to ignore the testy exchange. “I hope Lord Branford did not take offense at things seeming to be at such sixes and sevens in the house.”
“Of course not,” assured Alex. “Givens explained what had happened when we entered the foyer, and His Lordship was?—”
“You asked him in?” Justin’s voice had taken on an even sharper edge.
“Yes,” replied Alex calmly. “I wished to consult with him on a certain matter.”
“What possible …” began Justin. “Oh, no.” His eyes narrowed as he put two and two together. “Please tell me that you didn’t ask him about that damned—sorry, Aunt Aurelia—deuced letter!”
Alex maintained an icy calm. “Don’t sputter at me. It’s none of your concern what I choose to discuss with the earl.”
