He dropped to the ground, badly shaken but miraculously unhurt. Dulcie came galloping down the ride toward him, Theo white with shock and dread.
"Are you all right?" She drew back on the reins and the mare hung her head, blowing vigorously after the strenuous ride.
"Just about," he said. "I couldn't knot the reins, so I hope to God he doesn't trip over them and break a leg."
"What could have happened to him?" Theo dismounted. "I've never seen a horse do that before."
"Certainly not Zeus," Sylvester agreed. "Is Dulcie up to both our weights?"
"We can't both ride with a sidesaddle," she pointed out, not without a hint of satisfaction, despite the grim circumstances.
"We'll ride bareback," he said brusquely, moving to unstrap the girths. "Zeus will have run himself out soon, and I have to catch him before he does himself some damage."
He lifted the saddle from the mare's back and offered Theo his cupped palms as a mounting block before swinging up behind her, reaching for the reins.
The mare walked wearily through the copse and out into the sunlight of a stretch of gorse-strewn common land. Zeus stood on a small hill, pawing the ground and snorting. His neck and flanks were in a lather, and green foam bubbled around the bit. The reins dangled to the ground, and he had one hoof inside them.
"If he takes off again, he'll catch his foot," Theo said, even in her anxiety aware of the powerful body at her back, the earthy scent of his skin, the strength in the arms encircling her.
Stoneridge, however, seemed unaware of her proximity. He dismounted rapidly when they were about ten yards from Zeus. "Stay here, I've a better chance of not spooking him if I approach on foot."
Theo stayed where she was, watching, her heart in her mouth. Zeus lifted his head as the man drew near. He snorted, pawing the earth, his eyes still rolling wildly.
Sylvester spoke softly to him, extending his hand, stepping purposefully toward him. The familiar voice seemed to pierce the animal's terror and weariness, and although he tossed his head and blew through his flared nostrils, he didn't take off.
Sylvester lunged for the reins, grabbing them, and Theo heaved a sigh of relief, trotting over to them.
"Now, let's have a look at you," Sylvester said, looping the reins around his wrist, stroking the sweat-lathered neck. The animal whimpered and showed the whites of his eyes.
Theo dismounted and tethered Dulcie to a gorse bush. "There's blood on his flank," she said as Sylvester bent to run his hands down the horse's fetlocks and under his belly, beneath the girth. "It looks as if it's coming from the saddle."
Sylvester unstrapped the girths and lifted the saddle away. Zeus snorted and stamped, tossing his head as the leather left his back.
"Dear God!" Sylvester breathed, and Theo gasped in horror. The animal's back was pouring blood.
Sylvester tossed the saddle to the ground, turning it over. He bent over it and then swore savagely. "Bastards! Vile bastards!"
Theo dropped to her knees beside him, running her hand over the bloody saddle. A line of sharp tacks had been hammered into the leather, so that the minute Sylvester's weight had dropped onto the saddle, they'd buried themselves agonizingly into the animal's hide.
"Who could have done such a thing?" Theo stared, horrorstruck.
"Some vicious piece of scum in the stables," he declared. "And, by God, when I find him, I'll thrash him to within an inch of his life."
"Of course it's not someone from our stables," Theo said, her eyes flashing at this insult to Belmont people. "No one would do such a thing."
"Someone did," he stated flatly, twisting out the tacks. "Some rat with a grudge."
"No!" Theo jumped up. "It's impossible that one of my people would do such a thing."
"Your people!" he said. "Exactly so. People who resent a Gilbraith -"
"No!" she cried again. "It's impossible for one of the Belmont people to have done such a thing. I've known them all since I was a child."
"My dear girl, you don't know the first thing about human nature," he declared. "Your faith is touching, but this was done by someone in the stables; where else could it have been done?"
"I don't know," Theo said. "But I do know that no one there is that vicious. They wouldn't hurt a horse in that fashion, even if they did have some kind of a grudge against you. And, anyway, they don't."
"I'm well aware of how Belmont people regard a Gilbraith," he said, his mouth a taut line. "And this is the work of some twisted cur. I will get to the bottom of it if I have to confront every member of the estate."
"If you accuse someone of doing this ghastly thing, you'll never be accepted by them," Theo said, her eyes flaring with the passion of her conviction.
"I'm not interested in acceptance," he told her. "I'm interested in respect and obedience. And I intend to have both. Someone is going to pay dearly for this. And if I can't find the culprit, then they'll all pay."
He strode back to the horse, now standing quietly on the grass.
"Come on, old fellow, let's get you home."
Theo bounded after him. "Just you listen to me, Stoneridge. These people are tenants, hardworking farmers, not feudal bondsmen, and they'll respect you if you respect them. You don't know them and you have no right… no right at all… to accuse any one of them of such a dastardly act. You have no justification and no right!"
"Get on your horse," he said, paying no attention to this tirade. "We'll lead Zeus and send someone back for both saddles."
"Are you listening to me?"
"No," he said, lifting her willy-nilly onto Dulcie and swinging up behind her, taking Zeus's reins in his free hand. "I quite understand why you would wish to defend these people, it's perfectly natural. But you're ignoring reality. I've already had several confrontations with people who don't wish to change their ways, and some spiteful brute clearly thought he would get his own back."
Theo looked over her shoulder at him with withering contempt. "Obviously, my lord, you don't have the first idea of how to establish good relations with your tenants. You'll find, as a result, that you'll never know any of the important things going on around the estate. If they don't trust you, they won't talk to you."
"I have no particular desire to be talked to," he stated, tight-lipped. "And trust does not depend on overfamiliarity with villagers and laborers."
"That just goes to show how little you know," she said scornfully. "My grandfather knew every one of his tenants and all their families -"
"I am not your grandfather," he interrupted. "Trust comes from respect and the knowledge that the lord of the manor has their best interests at heart, even if they don't always agree with his methods. It's not necessary to joke and gossip with every milkmaid and stable hand in the district. And I tell you, now, Theo, you are going to have to curb your free and easy ways once we're married. It's not appropriate for the Countess of Stoneridge to behave as you do."
"How would you know what's appropriate?" she demanded with icy scorn. "If my grandfather didn't consider it inappropriate, what makes you think you might know better? You've no experience of running an estate. My grandfather always said the Gilbraith estate was another Lilliput. You can't learn to manage tenants if you don't have them, my lord. I suggest you leave well alone what you don't understand."
She was only vaguely aware that her tongue had run away with her. Criticism of her grandfather on top of the insults to loyal Belmont people were not to be borne, and she'd jumped to the defense with blind passion.
But her angry, contemptuous words fell into a dreadful silence. The earl's fingers tightened around the reins, his knuckles whitening, but he said not a word until they reached the stableyard, Zeus now wearied and docile, his injured back bleeding sluggishly.