“I’ve been up for nearly an hour,” Mira said, opening the door farther so that Theresia could come in.
Liza pulled a blanket around her shoulders. “It’s no bother.”
Maureen stifled a yawn. “Has the snow stopped?”
Theresia nodded, setting the clothes on the bed. “Most of the men have headed out to hunt. I thought we could have some breakfast and then walk to the bottom of the ridge to meet them when they return.”
“Did Mr. Blayse go?” Liza asked. When Theresia nodded again, Liza said, “Oh, I’ve always wondered what he would look like in hunting pinks.”
“All the men went, except for Admiral Hoddle,” Theresia elaborated. “He couldn’t be roused this morning.”
“I’m not surprised,” Maureen said. “He never was an early riser, especially after a party.”
***
After breakfast, the walking company set outalong the snowy paths. They took a long route down a switchback to the west of the estate in order to avoid the steeper sections. A few flurries flew around them, but it was pleasant enough. The group was comprised of Mira, Liza, Maureen, Theresia, and Aunt Eleanor who insisted on coming as soon as she discovered their object.
“So many young men, all with their blood up after a hunt,” Aunt Eleanor muttered under her breath, though Mira was certain she wasn’t the only one who heard it. Eleanor said a bit louder, “And to drag an old woman through the chill and snow.”
“You didn’t have to come,” Liza said. “You could have stayed up at the house with my mother.”
“It isn’t right for you young ladies to be unaccompanied.”
They came to the base of the hill with the steep slope to their right and continued down the path, boots crunching over the snow. Mira increased her pace so she could walk next to Theresia. She wasn’t exactly certain how to ask the question she wanted in a way that wouldn’t cause suspicion. If the Risewells were working with the thieves, it wouldn’t do to put them on their guard. But she was so curious about that bit of gossip she overheard the night before, and, if Byron was questioning Mr. Risewell during the hunt, she ought to do her part.
“I heard that your family leases this estate every year, is that right?”
Theresia inclined her head. “My father is an avid hunter, as you probably noticed, but we don’t have the land to raise birds and deer and still have enough pasture for the horses. We split our time between our home outside of London in the summer and here in the winter. The Estfields have an annual holiday, and my father doesn’t have to maintain the game.”
“That’s reasonable enough. Does Wynmar take much upkeep, then?”
“Oh, not really. The Estfields leave their gardeners and stewards.”
“Then you really only have to worry about the manor staff. And I’m sure you bring your staff with you from London, so that isn’t much of a change.”
“Oh, no. We always hire most of the staff here new each winter. My father prefers the house in London to remain open while we’re gone. You see, he returns to London a few times during the winter to check on his business assets. We only bring our grooms along to take care of the horses. I wouldn’t trust my horse, Verona, with anyone else.”
“That’s funny,” Maureen said. “I’ve heard tell that you brought gardeners with you.”
Theresia laughed. “People fixate on the strangest things,don’t they? Mr. Sharpe was our gardener years ago, but he proved to do better with horses than horticulture. And he’s an excellent gamekeeper too.”
They came around a bend and Mira froze in place. There, up ahead, was a dark mass just off the path.
“What is that?” Maureen asked, her voice shaky.
“I think it’s a body,” Mira said, picking up her skirts. “I say!” she called as she approached, praying that whoever it was was still alive.
There was no answer, and as she came closer she discovered it was the body of a man, face down and half covered in snow.
She swallowed and crouched beside him, turning him over. His face was blue with cold, cloudy eyes staring at the grey sky, blood coating his forehead and coloring the snow beneath him.
Maureen screamed, taking several steps back. “No. Not again. No.”
“Why...” Theresia said. “That’s Silas.”
Hands shaky, Mira removed one of her gloves, pushed the collar of his coat back, and pressed her fingers to his neck.
Nothing.
