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“May I ask that you inform me of any further developments in your efforts to catch the thief?”
“Of course, my lord.” Now that he had taken one small step toward solving his problem, Mr. Wellington’s self-assurance was reemerging. “I shall not allow such criminal behavior to go unchecked. Have no fear. I will get to the bottom of this.”
“I certainly hope so, Wellington. The more people affected by this thievery, the harder it will be to hide.”
Mr. Wellington blanched. “How right you are, my lord. I believe I shall make a visit to Mr. Crawley straight away.”
Charlotte had walked farther than she’d intended. She’d followed the curve of the bay, collecting seashells and marveling at the beauty of the rugged coastline along the way. To her right, the tide was steadily advancing up the beach. To her left, the cliff face, which had been little more than a few feet high where the carriage was parked, now towered above her head like a castle wall.
A shadow flickered across the sand ahead of her. She stopped, looking up in time to see a man’s head and shoulders disappear beyond the upper rim of the cliffs. Who could it have been? She turned. Grandmama was still sitting in the shade on the other side of the bay, the footman who’d assisted them visible a few yards away. It was unlikely that their carriage driver would roam so far from the vehicle since they’d given him no indication of how long they intended to stay.
Charlotte gave the spot where the figure had disappeared one last look. She was fairly certain that the land butting up against the bay belonged to Lord Cheston. Could it have been him? Her heart tripped. What had Grandmama been thinking to orchestrate an introduction for Charlotte with the gentleman? A baron who was so devoted to his land that he worked in the barn delivering lambs could have no interest whatsoever in a young woman raised in the city who’d never even owned a pet rabbit. And she could have no interest in him. The logic was sound. Unfortunately, at that precise moment, she wasn’t feeling especially logical.
Pushing away the memory of Lord Cheston’s humor-filled amber eyes, she turned and started back toward her grandmother. A sheep bleated, a solitary, mournful cry. It sounded remarkably close. She paused once more to scour the cliff. Perhaps the man she’d seen had been a shepherd in search of a missing sheep. If so, he appeared to have moved on, for there was no sign of him on the ridge.
By the time she reached the waiting chairs, her shoes and hem were caked with sand, and she was panting slightly.
“Forgive me, Grandmama. I should not have left you alone for so long.”
“Nonsense,” Grandmama said. “We have both filled our time with the very things we came for—fresh sea air for me and walking the beach for you. Besides, I was not alone. Frederick was nearby the whole time.”
“Thank you, Frederick,” Charlotte said, glad to know the footman’s name.
“My pleasure, miss.” He moved a little closer. “Will you and Mrs. Densley be returning to the carriage now?”
Grandmama was already coming to her feet.
“I believe so,” Charlotte said.
“Very good, miss.”
He waited until Grandmama had tucked her arm through Charlotte’s and they had started back up the rocky slope before gathering up the chairs and the empty picnic basket.
“I must say,” Grandmama said. “I’m beginning to think there really might be something to the claim that sea air improves one’s appetite. I have rarely looked forward to a meal as much as I am anticipating dinner this evening.”
Charlotte smiled. She, too, was looking forward to dinner at Tribbley Hall. But whether it was for the food or the company, she could not tell.
Ralph ran a callused hand over the sheep’s abdomen. “Not much longer, m’lord. I reckon the little one’ll be ’ere within the hour.”
“I certainly hope so,” William said. “She’s been through enough already.”
“Aye, she’s had a rough go of it, this one,” Ralph said, sitting back on his heels as the ewe panted through her discomfort.
“I’m only sorry that you did not get the rest you were due after spending all day in the fields.”
Ralph shrugged and gave him a craggy smile that showed his missing teeth. “That’s ’ow these things go, I reckon. You’ll ’ave all these mothers waitin’ and waitin’ fer their time t’come, and then all of a sudden they’re all goin’ through it at once. Somethin’ to do with the moon, is what I’m thinkin’.”
“You might be right,” William said. “These lambs seem to prefer to arrive in the dead of night.”
Ralph chuckled. “I reckon they don’ know what’s day and what’s night, m’lord. They’re jus’ ready to stretch them long legs of theirs.”
There was no denying that. Watching a newborn lamb come to its feet within minutes of its birth was something he would never take for granted. It was a miracle every single time.
He pulled his watch from his pocket and glanced at it. The dinner hour was long gone. Most of the household would be abed already. Disappointment that he’d missed seeing Miss Densley lingered, surprising him in its intensity. He had not planned on dining with his mother’s guests beyond the dinner party last night, but thoughts of Miss Densley had remained with him throughout the day, and he had caught himself watching for her whenever he was near the house.
That the young lady was attractive went without saying; her golden hair and blue eyes were stunning. But what set her apart from other young ladies of his acquaintance was her willingness to openly share her emotions. There was no hiding behind fans for Miss Densley. He had yet to see her feign indifference or enthusiasm. Her fear of Patch had been real, as had her thrill at seeing the lambs and puppies. She had not covered her embarrassment over their first meeting, but neither had she withheld her forgiveness. To see the humor shining in her eyes over the ridiculous dinner conversation had been as heartwarming as it was unusual.
He shook his head as though it would somehow rid him of all perplexing thoughts of the lady. He had no time for such unsettling contemplation now. The sheep and their lambs needed his attention.