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Thomas reined his horse to a halt in front of William. “That’s the last of them, my lord. We’ve not found a hole in any of the property’s hedges or walls that’s large enough for a sheep to use as a means of escape.”

William nodded. He’d guessed as much. Ensuring that the sheep were safely enclosed was a priority, and he’d never known his steward to let something so important slide. But it had been essential that he make one last check.

“I believe we can rule out wandering off as the reason for our loss of sheep,” he said.

“Yes, my lord.” Thomas’s expression was grim. “Which leaves us with thievery.”

“Indeed.” William sat in his saddle and surveyed the rolling pastures. “But we are no closer to discovering who to hold accountable.”

With a grunt of frustration, he swung his horse around. Thomas followed his lead, riding beside him as they started back toward the barn.

“If there’s any good news to be had in all of this,” Thomas said, “it is that Harry and Simon don’t seem to be involved. Sometime in the last eighteen hours, we lost two more sheep. During that time, both men were either with me or with Ralph.”

Thomas was right. Knowing that he could trust his new hires was a huge boon. “Inform them of what we are up against,” he said. “The more men we have watching for signs of mischief, the better our chances of catching the perpetrator.”

“Simon handles a horse well, my lord. If you’re agreeable, I’ll have him ride the perimeter of the estate tonight while Harry and I watch the fields closer to the house.”

“Very well,” William said. “And I shall take a shift in the barn so that Ralph can get a few hours’ sleep before he relieves you in the fields.”

Thomas nodded, but his attention was on the road. “A rider, my lord. And he looks to be heading this way.”

William spotted him immediately. The lone man wearing a dark jacket and breeches turned his brown stallion onto the Tribbley Hall drive. By the time the rider had reached the first bend, he’d recognized him. Mr. Wellington. What business did the local magistrate have at Tribbley Hall? Touching his heels to his mount’s sides, William urged the horse into a canter. Thomas kept pace until, with a clatter of hooves, they entered the small courtyard near the barn. Mr. Wellington was waiting for them.

“Well met, my lord,” Mr. Wellington said, inclining his head.

“Wellington.” William returned the gesture. “What brings you to Tribbley Hall again so soon?”

“I am come to ask about the puppies you mentioned last evening.”

William frowned. “I thought I made it quite clear that they are not of an age to leave their mother.”

“Indeed, you did.” The gentleman was looking distinctly uncomfortable. “And although I have no desire to be an irritant, I find myself in a rather difficult situation. I wondered if I might secure a guarantee that you will sell me one of them at the earliest possible date.”

“May I be so bold as to ask what is so urgent?”

Mr. Wellington looked as though his cravat might be strangling him. “Sheep stealers, my lord.”

“I beg your pardon?”

The magistrate swallowed. “A few of my sheep have gone missing. Not many, mind you, but sufficient to cause concern. I understand that it does not bode well for the community if the magistrate himself cannot maintain the law on his own property.” He withdrew a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “I thought that perhaps if I were to acquire a dog that could be both a sheepdog and watchdog, I might have success in apprehending the criminal.”

“A young puppy is hardly a trained sheepdog, Mr. Wellington.” It was an obvious observation, but William used it to buy himself time to absorb this stunning new development.

“I realize that, my lord, but border collies are born for this work. It will not take one long to learn to do the job.”

“They are fast learners, I grant you. But surely not so fast as all that.” He kept his eyes on Mr. Wellington’s face. “Are you aware of any others who have lost sheep?”

“Mr. Crawley down Biddington way wrote to say that he had lost half a dozen ewes over the last three weeks.”

The Crawleys’ land was about ten miles south of Tribbley Hall.

“Any others?”

“Only the four of my own, my lord.”

That was ten. And there may be those who, like him, had not reported their losses. By the last count, William was missing over two dozen head. The criminal had already amassed a decent flock.

“Five weeks from now, you may have first pick of the litter,” William said. “But until that time, you had best exert your efforts to apprehending the thief yourself.” He paused. Should he mention his own losses? He had only just drawn Harry and Simon into his circle of trusted men. Unfortunately, no matter his elevated position in the community, Mr. Wellington had yet to pass muster.