“And you are half-mad, at the least.”
She laughed. “I am not the least mad. Do I look it?”
“You abducted a lord. Only someone addlepated or half-mad would do such a thing. As for Mrs. Smith, a new name will not help her, as I said. She is in the thick of it, same as you, and will swing beside you.” He angled his head so as to gaze below her chin. “Such a lovely neck. How sad it will be.”
“You do not frighten me.”
“I should.” He moved the tray to the little table near the window and set the one chair beside it. “Do you provide conversation as well as food, or am I to live in silence, too?”
“There is nothing to talk about.” Yet she didn’t leave.
“I think there is a good deal to discuss. Why I am here, what you hope to gain, what will satisfy you so I can depart—” He set aside the white cloth. “Whether this is not about me at all, but other members of my family. Many things.”
He glanced over at the last. She reacted, much as she tried not to.
He proceeded to cut the fowl on the plate. It smelled delicious, but then he was very hungry.
Caroline stood there for a ten count before speaking again. “Why would you think this was about your family?”
He casually chewed some pheasant. Mrs. Smith was an excellent cook. “I saw the horses the men were feeding.”
“If that held significance to you, maybe you are the one half-mad. Many farms in these parts have horses.”
“I expect some have several and I know some have whole herds. Twenty, thirty, even more. I thought it odd that you have seven out there in addition to the ones in the stable. More than you would need for farming and a household.” He looked over at her. “Too few for a farm that breeds them.”
Those dark eyes just watched him.
“Unless—” He helped himself to another forkful of food while he let the word dangle.
“Unless what?”
“Unless there was once a much bigger herd, but it had decreased unexpectedly. Been sold off, for example.” Another bite. “Or suffered from a disease.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath, like a backward hiss. He looked over. Flames in those eyes now. Her expression had tightened.
“I knew I had seen you before,” he said. “You are Miss Dunham. This is Crestview Park.”
“You no doubt think you are very clever.”
He set down his fork and turned to her. “He had no choice. My cousin only sought to protect the other farms in the county.”
“We could have separated the ones that were sick. We could have kept them all here and let it run its course and kept others away. He did have a choice. Hewantedto have them all killed.”
“That is too harsh.”
“He had bought Galahad and didn’t want another born who might challenge his champion. So he tried to obliterate the bloodline.”
He wished he could insist Nigel would never do such a thing, but Adam had seen his cousin’s ruthlessness on more occasions than he wanted to remember. He had also seen Nigel’s delight in possessing Galahad. In winning with him and in being the envy of the Jockey Club. Crestview Park had a long history of producing some of the best racing horses in England, slowly and carefully, until the strangling disease had taken hold here.
“That was over two years ago. You are rebuilding quickly.” His memory reexamined those dots on the hillside and their sizes. “Ah. He didn’t get them all, did he?”
“It doesn’t matter. Even if we rebuild, it will never be the same. It broke my father. Not only financially, but in his spirit. He died last year.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“No one in your circles would know, since we don’t sell prize thoroughbreds anymore.”
“And now I am to pay for that? Is that why I am here?” If this woman schemed for revenge, this might be more dangerous than he had thought.
