Gideon sighed and gave a wry grin. “The lady deserves her rest, I fear.” That put speculation to an end and earned him respect with the younger ones, at least.
“Feeling better, Frank?” Gideon asked. At the sound of his voice, Hector loped over for a pat.
“Summut.” Frank grinned. “Peter’s still malingering.”
“Bert and Harv are glad to have them back, I can tell you,” Marshall said. The steward always seemed more at home in the stables than he did in his office.
“Where’s Harv? He agreed to fix my saddle,” Gideon said, gazing pointedly at Marshall.
“Just finishing it, as it happens.” Marshall followed him to the tack room, and Bert trailed along. So did Mia’s dog.
“Pity about that,” Marshall said.
“It is that,” Harv said, glancing up and inclining his head to Gideon. “Beautiful piece of work, this was. Is again, if I do say so.”
Gideon breathed a sigh of relief. If he hadn’t seen it in pieces, he wouldn’t have known it was damaged.
“Luckily the vandal kept the bigger pieces intact. I couldn’t have done much if the fancy leatherwork was wrecked,” Harv said, running his hand against the fine-tooled leaves and flowers along the back piece. Similar decoration went along the sides.
“I can’t think why anyone would do this,” Marshall said.
“Someone wants me to know I’m unwelcome,” Gideon replied. All the while, he examined the work, seeing nothing to complain about.
“If they knew you, they’d know you don’t back down easily,” Marshall said with a shrewd grin. “It doesn’t make sense to me.”
“He raked us all over the coals about it,” Bert added, nodding toward Marshall, “even Frank and Peter, as if they would climb down and get into mischief. None of us saw anything.”
Marshall shook his head. “I can’t think who in the village would come all this way just to tear something up, even if, begging your pardon, they don’t like you much down there.”
Their eyes met.Who did that leave?Tavernash had neither motive nor capability, and Gideon was sure Marshall thought the same. As to Marshall himself, why eliminate other suspects if he had reason to deflect blame?
“At least I have it back,” Gideon said. He reached in an inside coat pocket, took out a sovereign, and flipped it to Harv, who caught it in the air. “As promised,” he said, rubbing his hands along the saddle and giving a firm tug on the back. It held fast.
“Gawl, Harv. Teach me how to do leather work,” Bert said. “Want I should saddle that great beast of yours, Mr. Kendrick?”
A short time later, Gideon stood at the stable door with Marshall, Hector content at their feet, while Bert led Hannibal out.
“You’re nothing like what they said,” Marshall said.
Gideon hoisted himself into the saddle with one mighty heave. “I never was,” he said, taking the reins.
Bert shook his head as if the sight continued to amaze him. “On that horse, you look different, begging your pardon, Mr. Kendrick. You don’t limp.”
“That I don’t,” Gideon said with a chuckle.On horseback, I’m almost normal.
Marshall gazed at him curiously. “Where are you off to, today of all days?” The faces of the grooms added their own curiosity.
Gideon grinned. “To the dairy,” he said. Marshall’s knowing gaze gave him pause.
“Might be interesting,” the steward said. “Come see me when you get a chance.”
Gideon nodded. “Come, Hector!” On horseback, with the dog loping along beside, he reached the dairy in twenty minutes.
The dairymaids were between milkings, working in the cheese room.
Mrs. Millbrook came over to greet him. “Did Marshall send you over to fetch my monthly report? It’s on my desk.”
He let her believe that. “I’ll take it to him,” he said. He followed her out past the milking room to a small desk in the corner. Pen and ink had been placed against the wall and a neat stack of paper in the corner. She picked up the report and handed it over.
