“Logical,” said James. “Your physician, Edmund. He’s reliable?”
“Very,” replied Edmund. “And the staff—well, they’re good with gunshot wounds. That’s for certain.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “You must live an interesting life in the country. Or you’re all quite clumsy with your weapons, which I doubt.”
“Everyone adores Hecate.” Simon’s statement caught their attention. “There’s not a family within ten miles she’s not touched with her charm or her unique gifts. Once word of her accident gets out, Ridlington will be under siege. Everyone will want to help.” He looked at his brother. “If Elsie Dwyer brings any of her apple pies, you let me know.”
“Then the decision is made,” concluded Max. “James, do you have a travelling carriage in town?”
“No,” James shook his head. “It’s at FitzArden Hall. I didn’t need it for this trip.”
“Then I’ll offer mine as transport. It’s already being prepared, since we had no idea where she might need to go from here.”
“I daresay Aunt Venetia might like to go with her,” mused Kitty. “She was saying only the other day she’d like to see Ridlington and baby Hugh.”
“An excellent notion, Kitty, let her know?” nodded Edmund.
The conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in,” called Max.
Deery appeared. “Mr. Dal is here, sir. He tells me you asked to see him as soon as he returned?”
“Ah, yes indeed. Have him come in, Deery.” He looked at the others. “I asked him to mastermind the collection of the damaged carriage. I will be interested to hear what he has to say.”
Dal walked in, still—to Kitty’s amazement—looking calm and collected. The man must have been awake for at least twenty-four hours by now, and yet there was not a sign to show he was exhausted.
“Sirs,” he bowed to the room. “At Mr. Seton-Mowbray’s command, I have brought the wrecked vehicle back here.” He turned to Max. “While I am by no means qualified to make definite statements on such things, I would like permission to relate my findings, if that is appropriate?”
“Indeed it is,” said Max. “These gentlemen are Miss Hecate’s family.”
Dal glanced at Edmund. “She speaks fondly of you all. There is much love amongst you, which strengthens her quite often.”
“Um, well then.” Edmund’s cheeks coloured.
“What did you find, Dal?” Max stepped in to cover Edmund’s embarrassment. Kitty wanted to hug him and made a mental note to do so at a more appropriate moment.
“I found many pieces, sir. The carriage had hit a large rocky bank and much had shattered or splintered.” He took a breath. “As I mentioned, I am not an expert. But I do know the difference between a shattered spoke and sawn through spoke.”
Silence fell for a few moments, while the impact of this statement registered in the minds of those in the room.
Max was first to find his voice. “Are you saying one of the spokes on the wheels of my carriage was deliberately sawn through?”
“Good lord,” said Edmund, rising to his feet. “What on earth…”
“Yes, sir.” Dal gave Max a brief nodded assent. “I did indeed find the remnants of the wheels. And the spokes were severely damaged. But two retained obvious markings. They had been sawn almost through. Whether more had been similarly affected, I could not say. I can only assume that when the carriage hit a particularly rough piece of road, and at speed, they broke and thus caused the crash.”
“You have them here?” Simon stepped forward, shock on his face.
“I do, sir.”
Simon looked at Max. “I’d like to see them, if that’s all right?”
“As would we all,” added James.
Max turned to Dal. “Would you be so kind as to take the Baron and the others to see the damage, Dal? I will have chance to go over everything at my leisure, but they will be leaving shortly.”
“Of course, sir.” The tall man turned, his turban pristine white, his long robe still almost creaseless. “If you will follow me, gentlemen…”
Kitty turned to Max as the others left, her heart thundering. “Max,” she gulped. “Is someone trying to kill you?”
~~~~*
“I would be surprised to find that were the case.”
She watched Max’s face as he thought about her question. He was giving it due consideration, she guessed, because it was a logical assumption from what they’d been told.
“I’m quite sure I’ve made a few enemies throughout my life, but to the best of my recollection, I don’t owe anyone money, I’ve never rendered anyone penniless, nor have I killed anyone.”
“Seduced any prominent wives lately?” Kitty managed a grin.
“I don’t seduce wives, Kitty. They try to seduce me.”
“God, you’re arrogant.”
He inclined his head in agreement. “Only if you view honesty as arrogance.”
“In some things, yes. In others, no. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment,” she waved the philosophical discussion aside. “So you can’t think of anyone who might be out to do you harm?”
He slowly shrugged. “Not a soul.”
“Any staff difficulties here? Or at any of your other properties?”
He blinked, and took a moment to think about that possibility. “Not that I’m aware of. I have many servants that have been with the family for years, and I’m sure if there had been trouble, I’d have been informed immediately. We Seton-Mowbrays value good service and we’re not shy about making that known.”
“Definitely arrogant,” she muttered.
“I heard that.” He glanced at her. “I don’t have a lot of properties, actually. Besides Mowbray House, there’s a small estate just outside Southampton, that I visit in the summer sometimes. Then there’s Seton’s Folly for the hunting, and the family burden—Oakhall Manor. M’sister likes the place, but it’s always seemed more of a mausoleum to me.”
“Sister? That would be the lady whose clothes I’ve been borrowing?”
“Yes, Grace. She doesn’t care for town life. Prefers the quiet of the country. Oakhall is on the south coast, so she has the forests and the ocean near, which seems to make her happy. In the winter she moves closer to London. There’s a small hunting box she inherited, about twenty miles or so from here.”
Kitty was about to pursue her questioning, when the gentlemen returned.
Edmund’s face was dark with anger. “He’s right. Dal is accurate when he says the spokes were sawn—at least two, maybe more. Just enough, I would guess a good bump would do it.” His eyes met Max’s. “Someone’s trying to kill you, sir. And they’ve damn near killed my sister instead.”