Page 14 of The Moonstone Major
Fionn nodded. “I’ll come with you. I want to question him.”
“I’m sure Constable Angel has done this already.”
“Still, an added warning from me cannot hurt. He and his friends have been recklessly racing about Moonstone Landing. I don’t care that they are racing—they just need to do it away from our busier roads. By the way, is everything all right at the Harbison farm?”
“Yes, one of their boys fell out of a tree and broke his arm. It is a clean break, not too bad. He will recover.”
“Good.”
It was not too long before they reached the inn.
The ostler, a wizened, older man with a leathery face, ran forward to take the doctor’s carriage. “Ye’re here to see Lord Claymore, I expect. Constable Angel and his men brought him back here a while ago. Soaking wet, he was. And quite angry as he strode into the inn.”
“So he was able to walk on his own, Mr. Matchett? Fool lord, he’s lucky to be alive,” Dr. Hewitt muttered.
“Odd thing, though. I don’t think it was his fault those horses went wild. Constable Angel said one of them had a dart stuck in its rump. Some prankster must have shot him with it. The constable is going to investigate. Probably some wayward lad, although no one saw any children around. Who else would have been stupid enough to pull a jest like this? Well, he’ll keep asking around and get to the bottom of it.”
Fionn and the doctor exchanged glances.
So, this was more than some pampered lord behaving recklessly. Fionn was even more eager to question him now.
“Sounds like the viscount was not hurt at all, or else everyone would have been rushing up to me and dragging me to his bedside,” the doctor muttered. “How about I meet you back here in fifteen minutes, Major Brennan? We can walk in to see him together.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Fionn took a moment to return to his quarters and don a fresh uniform. It would not do to approach Lord Claymore dressed in the marquess’s borrowed clothing, even if the shirt was of finest lawn and the vest was silk.
The doctor also returned to his infirmary to clean up.
Thaddius Angel, the inn’s new owner, hurried forward to greet them when they strode in together a short while later. “How is Lady Chloe? We are all so worried about her.”
“She will be fine,” Dr. Hewitt assured him. “But we’re here to see Lord Claymore. I gather he took a rather nasty spill into the water.”
Thaddius nodded and began to chatter as he led the way to the viscount’s quarters. “Good thing he did not break his neck. He seems all right, but you had better examine him. Did you hear what they say happened? One of his horses was struck with a dart. Malicious trick. Could have killed Lord Claymore, Lady Chloe, and other innocent bystanders.”
The door happened to be open, providing Fionn with a view of what turned out to be an entire suite comprised of an elegantly furnished parlor with bedchambers and dressing rooms on either side of it. The parlor itself had a seating area and a small dining table, all of it finely furnished with mahogany furniture, blue silk chairs, and damask settees.
A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. The wall sconces were of burnished silver. Everything was highly polished and gleaming.
Of course, a viscount would be used to this luxury and expect no less.
Several of the viscount’s friends were seated around him, their postures languid and exuding privilege.
“Do come in, Dr. Hewitt,” the viscount said with surprising politeness. “And you, Major Brennan. I am entirely in your debt for averting disaster. How is Lady Chloe? I understand she is the sister-in-law of the Marquess of Burness and the Duke of Malvern, two gentlemen I have no wish to make my enemies.”
“She has a sprained ankle and a few bruised ribs, but she will recover,” the doctor assured him.
Fionn said nothing, still taking the measure of the man.
Since his clothes were obviously dry, it was clear Lord Claymore had been fit enough to change out of his soaked garments. Of course, such men had valets to assist them. Still, the viscount looked hale and no worse for wear after tumbling headlong into the water. His hair was still damp and he had a small bruise on his cheek under his left eye. Other than those few telltale signs, one would never guess he had taken what could have been a deadly spill mere hours ago.
“I will ride over to Westgate Hall tomorrow to deliver my sincerest apologies.” He now turned to Fionn, assessing him in return. “You took quite a fall. I noticed you are limping. I—”
“It is an old injury, that’s all.”
“Ah, then it is not a result of the unfortunate incident?”
“No, my lord. I may have an ache or two come tomorrow, but that is about all. What of you?”
The viscount chuckled with surprising good nature. “The horses came to an abrupt stop at the harbor, fortunately separating from the phaeton at that moment. The phaeton kept rolling straight into the water and took me splashing in along with it. Thankfully, this is where I landed…in the harbor at full tide. Had I hit hard ground, I doubt I would be alive to talk about it now.”
