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“Have either of them given you or Ralph any cause for complaint?” William asked.

“No, my lord. They do their work without being supervised and have learned to signal the dogs well enough to get by.”

The dogs. William paused his pacing. Why had the sheepdogs not barked a warning about intruders in the fields? Dex was Ralph’s shadow. If Ralph was in the fields, his faithful dog was too. But what of Patch?

“Do Harry and Simon take Patch with them when they’re in the fields?”

“They have in the past, my lord. Seeing as she just delivered her litter, we’re down to only Dex at the moment.”

Of course. He was not thinking clearly. He’d stopped by to see the puppies in the barn only yesterday.

“Tell Ralph to have Dex patrolling the fields on a regular basis. I want at least one man in the pastures around the clock until we’ve caught the perpetrator of this crime.”

“We are trusting Harry and Simon with this assignment, then?”

William set his jaw. “We have to. It’s too big a job for three men to do alone.”

“Three men?” Thomas looked at him questioningly.

“I wish to be put in the rotation,” William said. “Write up a schedule and inform the others. It is to be effective immediately.”

His manager bowed his head. “Right away, my lord.”

A knock sounded on the door, and both men turned to see William’s mother walk in. Her white hair was coiffured to perfection, and her lilac gown billowed out around her. In one hand, she held the ivory handle of a walking cane; in the other hand, she held a letter.

“Good day, Lady Cheston.” Thomas bowed lower.

William’s mother breezed into the room without bothering to ask if she were interrupting. “Good day to you, Thomas,” she said. “I assume you are well.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Good.” She turned her attention to William. “A word, if you please, William.”

William attempted to curb his irritation at her peremptory approach, but Thomas evidently recognized the dismissal.

“If you will excuse me, my lord, my lady,” he said. “I have much to do.”

“Yes, of course,” his mother said.

William nodded his appreciation. “I shall expect the schedule by day’s end, Thomas.”

“Yes, my lord.” He slipped out of the room, and William’s mother lifted the letter in her hand.

“Speaking of schedules, William, I hope you have remembered the dinner party I have arranged for this Saturday.”

Lud. His brain must have developed a leak. First Patch’s puppies and now the dinner party his mother had been talking of for the last fortnight. He would have to tell Thomas that he was unavailable to be in the fields on Saturday evening.

“How could I forget?” he said, hoping his mother’s enthusiasm for the event would blind her to the fact that it had obviously slipped his mind. He spent a moment dredging his failing memory. “Mr. and Mrs. Fitzroy, their daughter, and Mr. Ryland. Is that correct?”

His mother pursed her lips. “It is. But as I told you only yesterday, I have also invited Mr. Wellington.”

William pinned a smile to his face. He wasn’t sure who was the greater bore: Mr. Ryland, who spoke incessantly about the flora and fauna indigenous to the Norfolk Broads, or Mr. Wellington, who took his position as magistrate so seriously that he felt obliged to share every detail of his responsibilities each time they met.

“Forgive me. So you did.”

“Yes, well, I shall now need to also reach out to Mr. Beeker. It is late notice, I realize, but it really would be preferable to have an even number of gentlemen and ladies, and I daresay the minister would be happy to receive an invitation to dine out.”

It appeared that not only was his memory failing him, his ability to count was also in question.