"I can walk. I’m just a little bruised. I think my confidence is a bit bruised as well."
James let her walk around, seeing nothing broken, and then picked her up and set her on Apollo’s back.
Roth returned with a grim look on his face. "Check the saddle."
James didn’t need to uncinch the saddle. He followed the trail of blood to the burrs that had been shoved underneath the leather. Someone would know an inexperienced rider was sure to lean forward trying to find her seat. The culprit would not even have to remove the saddle for the damage to be done. Rage filled him. Calliope could have died.
"Could have been done anytime at the lake. The question is, why?" Roth asked.
"What are you two talking about?" Calliope inquired.
Roth looked from one to the other. James wished he knew what the man was thinking. He was always so bloody hard to read.
"Fine, keep your secrets, but gentlemen, do you think we can head back now?" Her voice was dulled by pain.
James mounted behind her, his rage simmering beneath the surface. He enveloped her in his arms and she immediately relaxed against him.
Pettigrew and a few of the other guests burst into the trees. They had to bring their horses up short before colliding with them.
"What happened? Is Esmerelda all right?" Pettigrew looked concerned.
"Yes, a bit shaken but otherwise unharmed. We are returning to the house."
"Of course. I’ll come with you. Can’t leave an injured guest."
They rode back to the stables. James kept up a quick pace, holding Calliope carefully in his arms, and trying to avoid Pettigrew’s questions.
They arrived at the stables. James lowered Calliope into Roth’s arms, jumped down and reached for Damsel’s reins. Pettigrew dismounted and hurried over. He saw the blood and investigated the saddle.
"Tanner!"
The head groom ran out of the stable. "Yes, my lord?"
"What is the meaning of this? Who put the saddle on this horse? Someone is not doing his job properly!" Pettigrew continued to yell at the groom. "One of my guests could have been killed! I will have someone’s head. Yours if no one else’s!"
Pettigrew was overdoing the outrage. He could have been convincing with a bit less fervor. He stomped off to the manor.
James walked over to the abashed groom. "I know you and your staff didn’t have anything to do with the accident. I will speak with Pettigrew. Here is my card. If you or anyone else is turned out as a result of this incident, go to this address and ask for Stubbins. If you could take care of Damsel’s injuries, I’d appreciate it."
"Thank you, my lord." The groom’s eyes regained a spark of life. He wiped a hand over his brow, took Damsel’s and Apollo’s reins and hurried inside.
Calliope was leaning against Roth. She looked at James strangely, and nodded approvingly.
James gently lifted her and carried her into the house.
Calliope rested a cold cheek against his shoulder. Roth was keeping up with the quick pace he had set.
"Roth, would you send Esmerelda’s maid, Betsy, to her room with some hot tea and a warming pan?"
He nodded. "Think I’ll have a talk with Pettigrew too."
James frowned and nodded in return. There was nothing he could do about Roth now. He’d have to talk with him later.
"Lord Pettigrew certainly seemed upset," Calliope mumbled against his chest.
"Yes, we’ll have to keep a closer eye on him."
She tilted her head back, her face only inches from his. "Wasn’t he just expressing concern as a host?"
"Shh. We’ll talk when we reach your room."
She tucked her head into his shoulder. Her body was beginning to feel warmer. That was a good sign.
He unlocked her room and set her down on the bed. "Remove your riding habit. You’ll feel better after a nap."
She frowned. "No, I’m going to have tea. You just sent Roth for some."
"Change your clothes and get under the covers, or I’ll do it for you."
Her face assumed the disgruntled look she was so fond of, but she must have read his intent, because she hurriedly changed while James walked to the window overlooking one of the gardens. He could see her out of the corner of his eye.
Someone knocked at the door.
"Enter."
Calliope’s maid placed the tea tray on the table and lit a fire in the fireplace. James’s body was heating the room better than a fire, but the added heat couldn’t hurt.
The maid left and Calliope padded to the tray. Her feet were bare.
"Get in bed." His voice was a bit raw.
She looked like she was going to argue but padded to the bed and crawled under the covers, militantly thumping her hands down on the soft coverlet.
James poured two cups of tea and brought one to her. He sat on the edge of the bed, forcing her to scoot inward or be crushed. She gave him a dark look and took the cup.
"Did you see anyone near Damsel? Someone put burrs under her saddle," he said.
Calliope put the cup down and her gaze turned thoughtful. "There were men poking Apollo right before we remounted."
James nodded. "I wasn’t paying as close attention as I should have." He had been watching Calliope and soaking up her pleasure.
"What should we do?"
"I don’t think there is much we can do at this point. I will have a look around the lake, but whoever did this is probably long gone. And the evidence with him."
"Come back as soon as you are finished."
He nodded. "I will send your maid back up. She will keep people away."
He walked out and Calliope’s maid was walking toward him with Roth. Yes, Roth knew a bit too much, as usual.
James gave the maid strict instructions and she disappeared inside. Roth studied him, waiting.
"I’m going to the lake. Would you like to join me?"
Roth nodded and they walked back to the stables.
Only after they entered the trail to the lake did Roth speak. "You have secrets. I have secrets. Esmerelda seems to have many. Let’s only speak of today. Something foul is afoot. Be careful."
He could trust Roth. He felt it. He should tell him the entire tale. But something held him back.
" Agreed. You didn’t happen to see anyone around the horses before we left, did you?"
Roth nodded. "Half of the party ventured past, including servants. Even Lady Flanders. I don’t have to warn you not to underestimate her."
"No, you don’t."
They discussed the rest of the members of the party until they reached the lake. Most of the guests had joined in one of the other afternoon pursuits.
A movement caught his attention. A small man stood far off in the trees. The hairs on James’s neck started tingling. The man hadn’t the look of a servant. Roth was staring at the man as well. They rode to the spot but the man had disappeared. It was the same copse of trees into which Damsel had dashed.
Searching the grounds turned up nothing and they returned to the house two hours later.
James headed for Calliope’s room. Roth put a hand on his arm.
"James, don’t overlook anyone." James nodded and Roth turned and strode down the hall.
The maid let him in and he instructed her to return in a few hours. Calliope was sleeping, one hand curled under her chin. He pulled up a chair and sat down to wait until dinner.
The maid had left some old papers for him to read. He flipped through one. He had already read this paper some weeks before. A caricature popped from the page. He remembered this set of cartoons clearly. They were illustrated by Thomas Landes and James had kept track of the artist’s work.
The first one depicted a debutante, who bore a striking resemblance to Sarah Jones, talking to a wilting fern as several gentlemen tiptoed away. Her vacant expression and uplifted nose prevented her from seeing her escaping prey.