* * *
Will was reading a letter from his friend Cameron, who had been apprenticed with him to the old smithy in Norfolk, many years ago.
Cameron had emigrated to Europe, and, by way of hard work, dedication and a natural affinity for both people and horses, he now worked with the beautiful white Lipizzaner stallions in the Spanish Riding School, in Vienna. It always made Will smile when he read that — he had never been good at geography, but the idea of a Spanish riding school in Vienna, which even he knew was not in Spain, puzzled him.
Cameron had progressed to training and even riding the horses, and his tales always made Will yearn to see the beautiful animals for himself. Today, in his expansive, cheerful manner, Cameron was encouraging him to come to Vienna and work at the school with him.
We need a bloody blacksmith who bloody well knows what he is doing, Cameron had written, his strong, Scottish accent coming through clearly in the inky, blotched words. Bloody horseshoe fell off during bloody practice last week — impossible bloody rogue they had working that forge!
Will grinned and folded the letter carefully, tucking it in a drawer to answer later. He walked out of the house and whistled to Hector who appeared from a rabbit hole, burrs sticking to his fur, but smiling a greeting nonetheless.
‘Hector, my lad!’ Will scolded as he reached down to pick the stubborn seeds out of his fur, ‘I’d be inclined to leave you behind if I went overseas. I can’t spend my time fussing you, boy, if I need to shoe those stallions.’ He ruffled the dog’s fur and headed into the forge. He shovelled some coal onto the fire and wiped his brow as the heat blasted out at him, dampening his hair into curling tendrils.
‘Haddon! William Haddon!’ An imperious voice he didn’t recognise called from somewhere outside and a horse whinnied. Will frowned. Passing trade wasn’t unknown, but those customers rarely knew his name.
‘William Haddon, at your service!’ he called as he strode outside. He pulled up short as he saw a tall, dark-haired man astride a horse that he recognised as one of the Earl’s hunters.
‘Ah. Good man.’ The stranger smiled, but it didn’t reach his flinty grey eyes. ‘Check this beast’s shoes. I’m going for a hack with Miss Tredegar and I don’t trust it not to lose one on the way. God knows what state they’re in.’
The horse shied and whinnied, happy to see Will, and the stranger pulled tightly on the reins, bringing it into order again. ‘Now, please. I would be most grateful.’
Thrown a little, Will put his hand on the horse’s neck and crooned something nonsensical to it as he looked over the man’s shoulders. Behind him, the sweet palomino mare trotted slowly down from the Hall, Cat sitting on her back. Even from this distance, he could see she wasn’t exactly confident. It had been a few months since she had ridden, and personally he thought a hack into the countryside was rather much to expect from her.
As she approached, he could see her face was dark and her mouth was set unhappily. It was a look that spoke of anger, pain and helplessness.
‘Certainly, Sir,’ Will said, tonelessly. This man, then, must be Edward Mountfort. The man Charles had told him about.
And the bastard hadn’t even waited for her.
‘Will!’ Cat’s face lightened briefly as she saw him and brought Beauty up beside Mountfort. ‘How lovely to see you today. It’s a beautiful morning, is it not?’
‘Aye, Miss Tredegar, it is.’ Had they been alone, Will wouldn’t have hesitated to say “even more beautiful now I’ve seen you, Cat!” But of course he couldn’t say that now, could he?
‘We’re going for a hack.’ She cast a glance at Mountfort. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been on Beauty since . . .’ The words trailed off. He knew she had been about to say ‘since you helped me onto her’ and he bit his lip. ‘Since the accident,’ she amended and looked down; but she wasn’t quick enough to hide the colour in her cheeks.
‘Well, you take care, Miss,’ he said, his eyes burning into her. ‘I’d hate for anything untoward to happen.’
‘So perhaps it’s best you check her beast’s shoes as well.’ It was a statement, not a request and Will felt his own cheeks flush in anger.
Cat’s own anger flared momentarily as she shot a faintly disgusted look at Mountfort. ‘She isn’t simply a beast. Her name is Beauty. And the horse you are riding, the one my uncle encouraged you to ride, to escort me today, is called Merlin.’
‘Merlin. Thank you, Catriona.’ The man looked over at her and smiled. ‘So perhaps Haddon here can check Merlin and Beauty’s shoes before we head off? And perhaps he can be quick about it? Can you, Haddon?’
‘I can, Sir. I’ll get to it immediately.’ He wanted to punch the man, he really did. And by the look of things, Cat felt the same.
Will bent to his work, anger fuelling his actions. The memory of the letter from Cameron pierced his consciousness like a red-hot poker. He had to answer him. And, may God and Cat forgive him, but he had to answer him quickly.
Chapter Sixteen
The ice-cream bicycle had up-cycled a treat. Kate had managed to ride it around the grounds of the museum and then into the barn where it had been standing at the front of the agricultural display for the last few weeks. Doing the bike up had helped her focus her energy and not go over and over the fact that she had dumped Chris — although she didn’t regret that for a moment — in the hope that she could slip neatly into a relationship with Theo Kent. Well, it just went to show.
She’d also had a sign printed that told her visitors how the bicycle would be starring in the Country House Party Weekend at the Hall. Cassie had excitedly brought a whole ream of advertising leaflets over for Kate to display, so they were now in the basket of the bicycle and in the container where the ice-cream would be stashed, and there was a fanned-out pile on the reception desk as well. They were going quite quickly and Kate hoped, for Cassie’s sake, that the event would be a success. Also, of course, it might drive people to the museum that weekend, which would be very good. Kate had asked — no, insisted — that Jenna be fit for work the entire weekend; because of course Kate was manning — or woman-ing — the bicycle.
In truth, Cassie had been struggling to put all her ideas into practice, but then, luckily for her, help had arrived in the shape of Aidan Edwards, a fantastic civil engineer who had the added bonus of being drop-dead gorgeous and clearly smitten with his new employer. He seemed to delight in implementing her wild schemes, and it was pretty obvious that Cassie was in lust with Aidan too. Clearly a win-win situation.
It was about two weeks before the event, and Kate was looking forward to it. Elodie had managed to produce the twins at the end of July, a couple of weeks early much to her joy, and Kate was sure tiny Lady Freya and Lord Alfie would be the star attractions, despite all the work Cassie and the divine Aidan had put into the weekend.
Kate walked back out of the barn and saw a figure walking towards her. It was a figure she recognised all too well, and she wondered if it was possible to turn around and run back into the barn; then escape through a loose panel in the back and run away, all the way to Ipswich, perhaps.