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Now her curiosity was truly piqued, but she kept her gaze on the path. Sir Adrian was merely her tenant. She had no business being curious about him. He paid his rent and abided by their agreement. That was all that mattered.
“Bluebell?” said the man beside her. “Want to hear the story of Jay and Raven?”
“I want to take this letter to the post.”
“Listen to me,” he coaxed, “and you’ll have the edge on all your village friends when the gossip starts.”
At that she laughed. Mr. Kydd plainly thought her a village girl to be teased and flirted with. Why not? For the moment she could be Bluebell, not a dead duke’s damaged daughter. As Bluebell she could give in to her curiosity. The name Raven intrigued her.
“Very well,” she said. “Tell me the story of Raven and Jay.”
Chapter Eight
Raven returned to the Crown after meeting Dawes to go over the plans he’d made for renovating key rooms. He was entirely satisfied with Dawes. The man worked regularly on several estates in the area. Raven wanted the work done quickly, if possible, but he meant to maintain the original character of the hall.
He found Jay at ease in a smoky corner of the taproom with the coachman and a pair of grooms from his grandfather’s stables in town. Jay appeared to be in lively spirits, telling some anecdote to the others. He waved Raven over to their table, and had the tapster draw another pint.
“You’ll be glad to know,” Jay said, handing Raven the pint, “that things are in hand at Verwood for the introduction of your vehicles and horses to their new quarters.”
Raven raised his mug. “Thank you. No complaints from Her Grace?”
Jay shook his head. “The spacing is good, and Snell, the head Verwood groomsman, says we can count on Dick Crockett to steady Hermes. Once he’s settled, I expect the horses closest to yours will fall in line. I’ll spend the week with them in the paddock, making sure, letting them get acquainted.”
“That long? I thought you were eager to get back to town.”
Jay grinned. “Turns out,” he said, “that the village of Wormley has some unexpected charms.”
Raven laughed. “And her name is?”
“Bluebell.”
He almost choked on his ale.
Jay whacked him on the back. “Don’t worry, she’s definitely a two-footed lass, and not an earl’s daughter. Independent and spirited.”
“Where did you meet this spirited miss?”
Jay shook a finger at him. “Now that’s my business.”
“And she’s agreed to see you again?”
“She’s a bit standoffish, but my guess is that she’ll be at Sunday services.”
“You are smitten if you’re thinking of going to church.”
Jay flashed another grin. “Likely I’ll wait outside and catch her as she leaves.”
“And did you solve the mystery of Her Grace closing the stud?”
Jay took a pull on his drink. “I have Mrs. Crockett’s theory. Have you heard that one?”
“Yes, that Her Grace’s granddaughter had a riding accident.” Raven was familiar now with Lady Cassandra’s dipping gait.
“My money’s still on Hermes as the key to the mystery, but I have to say there’s nothing wrong with his formation or movement. I haven’t seen any scars or marks indicating an injury. Still, I’ll keep my ears open this week. I ordered our landlord’s best dinner. You’re paying, aren’t you?”
*
A week after Cassie learned that Sir Adrian’s friends called him “Raven” Raven sent a message with a boy runner that he had something to show her at the big house.
