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“Tribbley Hall,” Charlotte said. “Is that the name of Lady Cheston’s residence?”

“It is. And it is quite lovely.”

“You’ve been there before, then?”

“I have. Many years ago,” Grandmama said. “Daphne and I have been friends since childhood. When she married, she moved to Norfolk, and since I was in Leicestershire, we rarely saw each other. She had five daughters—all of them now married and living elsewhere—and then twelve years after her youngest daughter was born, she gave birth to a son. Her husband died three years ago, and her son became Lord Cheston. From what Daphne tells me, he is taking his responsibilities quite seriously and is already making better use of the estate’s many acres.”

“What is he doing exactly?” Charlotte asked, intrigued.

“I cannot tell you,” her grandmother said. “But I daresay Lord Cheston will be happy to enlighten us both.”

The thought of being forced to listen to a middle-aged man extol the virtues of his wheat and barley fields was almost enough to dissuade Charlotte from making the trip. But not quite. Tribbley Hall was near the sea. She had seen the ocean only twice—both times from a carriage on a short excursion to Brighton—and she longed to actually walk the beach and perhaps even dip her fingers into the water.

“May I go, Mother?”

Her mother sighed. “Very well, as long as your grandmother ensures that you both return in plenty of time for the wedding.”

“Wild horses could not keep us away,” Grandmama said.

“Do they have wild horses in Norfolk?” Charlotte asked, rather hoping that they did.

“Not to my knowledge.” Her grandmother smiled. “But they certainly have sheep. Lots and lots of sheep.”

William Falkner, Lord Cheston, looked up from the report on his desk, a frown marring his forehead.

“What the blazes is happening, Thomas? Five sheep a fortnight ago. Another four this week. Sheep don’t simply disappear. Either the tally is wrong or we are being robbed.”

His steward shifted uncomfortably. “I would suggest that it’s the latter, my lord. Ralph maintained his own count while we were moving the flock from the lower pasture to the upper one. His numbers were the same as mine.”

“Blast it all.” William rose to his feet and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “This has to stop. We can’t afford to lose any more. Especially now, with lambing season upon us.”

“I agree, my lord.”

“Then what are we going to do about it?”

“With the flock grazing so far from the house, it’s quite possible that the sheep are being taken during daylight hours, but it may take setting watchmen around the clock to deter the thief. We can separate the ewes who are about to give birth and put them in the barn. If we lose them, we lose the mother and the lambs.”

William nodded. He’d sunk a great deal of money into increasing Tribbley Hall’s flock, counting on recouping his costs and making a substantial profit when shearing time came around. His desk contained hard-fought contracts with wool merchants in Antwerp and Genoa. He’d promised those gentlemen a certain quantity of Norfolk wool, and every sheep that went missing put his ability to deliver at greater risk.

“I could make some inquiries in the village,” Thomas continued. “There may be laborers looking for work who’d be willing to stand guard in the fields.”

“If we could guarantee that we weren’t bringing on the very man who is stealing the sheep in the first place, I’d agree,” William said.

Thomas inclined his head. “We’d be foolish not to consider that possibility.”

“We would, indeed. And until we’ve uncovered the identity of the thief, no one outside this room is above suspicion. Not even our own workers.”

“May I suggest that we include Ralph in our circle, my lord.”

It was a fair request. The old shepherd had been at Tribbley Hall since William was a boy and was as protective of his flock as most people were of their own children.

“I believe that goes without saying,” William said.

The sheep headcount had started dropping by one or two a week as long ago as November, but in the last month, they’d seen losses closer to four or five a week. Either the thief was getting greedy or he was becoming overconfident.

William paced the study, mentally reviewing the short list of employees he’d taken on since November. Other than a scullery maid, there was one young lad who’d started training as a groom, and two men who’d helped with the shearing in July and had asked to stay on as shepherds under Ralph.

“Harry and Simon are the only others who have reason to be out in the fields,” Thomas said, following William’s train of thought without prompting.