Page 68 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
“Phillip, that’s whom.” Dickie’s jaw set pugnaciously. “He’s our thief, the one who took the horse.”
“What?” Addie was stunned.
Grimly, Dickie nodded. “I know—who would have thought it of pompous Phil? But the stable lads at the manor recognized him as the gentleman who’s been staying here—at the inn, would you believe it?—and hanging around at Styles Place. That’s a small estate just up the road, a little beyond the manor on the opposite side.”
“Yes, we know.” Addie glanced at Nicholas, then looked back at Dickie. “One of the serving girls told us a widow owns the property now, a Mrs. Styles. Her husband was beaten to death in London some months ago. He sounds to have been an unsavory sort, and his passing isn’t much mourned by the town.”
Dickie snorted. “He’s certainly not mourned by our dear Phillip. Or by the widow, it seems.” Dickie looked at Nicholas. “When the stable lads identified the gentleman as staying at the inn and spending his time at Styles Place, given we know The Barbarian isn’t stabled here, I wanted to check if the horse was in the stable at Styles Place.” Dickie glanced at Addie. “I didn’t know who the gentleman was at that point.” He shrugged. “It was easy enough to climb over the wall and creep up to the stable.”
Nicholas moved to the table and tapped his finger on the map. “This is Styles Place.”
Dickie looked, then put his finger on a spot within the estate. “The stables are here. Young Gillies and I went over the wall about here”—he indicated a point along Church Lane—“and sneaked up behind the stable. We could look through gaps around the rear doors and shutters, and sure enough, we found The Barbarian.”
“He’s in a large stall,” Young Gillies reported, “and looking well enough, but he seemed restless, like he’s waiting for someone to take him for a run and is getting frustrated that no one has come.”
Addie nodded. “He expects a run every few days and gets annoyed if no one obliges.”
Nicholas looked at her. “And you’re the only one he’ll allow on his back?”
“For my sins.”
“The chestnut was in the stable there, too,” Young Gillies said. “A few stalls away. He’s a nice-looking horse as well.”
Addie frowned. “I’ve seen Phillip riding a good-looking chestnut in town.”
She glanced at Dickie, who immediately answered the question she hadn’t asked.
“Once we knew the horses were there, we thought to scout about a bit, get the lie of the land, so to speak, so when we visit, we’ll have some idea of the place. We were skulking about the rear garden when we saw two people—Phillip and the widow—strolling the lawns. That’s when it struck me that Phillip, of all people, is our thief. He fits the description perfectly, and there he was”—Dickie gestured—“right in front of me, with The Barbarian and the chestnut in the stable nearby. You could have knocked me down with a feather.”
He paused, then went on, “They were talking, so as soon as I stopped gaping, I tried to get close enough to overhear.”
Young Gillies snorted. “Gave me a heart attack, he did, edging so close. I thought sure as hell they’d see him.”
“Yes, well, they weren’t expecting anyone to be there,” Dickie explained, “so they weren’t looking. And I overheard enough to know that Phillip and the widow are decidedly chummy, and the widow invited Phillip to stay to dine, and he accepted.” Dickie drew in a breath. “So that’s where he is, and that’s where he’ll be for the rest of the day into the evening.”
Nicholas pinned Adriana with his gaze. “This is Phillip, your half brother?”
She nodded. “Phillip Sommerville, our father’s heir. He’s eleven years older than Dickie, and the only child of our father’s first marriage. His mother died when he was nine. Papa married again just over a year later, and Phillip has never forgiven him for that. Phillip and the family have been estranged”—Adriana shrugged—“ever since.” She looked at Dickie. “Certainly for all of our lives.”
“I see.” Nicholas juggled all that they’d learned in the past hour. “Why do you think Phillip took The Barbarian?”
“No idea,” Dickie avowed.
Adriana frowned. “I can’t even imagine how he came to know the horse was at the Grange.” She met Nicholas’s gaze. “Phillip gives the place a wide berth. I can’t remember the last time he visited.” She glanced at her brother. “Truly, Phillip is the last man I would have imagined as our thief.”
Rory was nodding. From their expressions, it was clear he, Jed, and Mike all agreed with Adriana’s assessment.
Nicholas thought, then glanced at Young Gillies. “The horse looked well cared for?”
Young Gillies nodded. “The beast seemed fine, and the stable was well-kept, neat and tidy with plenty of clean straw about. Smelled right, too.”
“Good. So at this moment, we know where The Barbarian is and that he’s in no immediate danger.” Nicholas looked at Dickie. “The stable lads said your half brother was staying here.”
Dickie nodded. “I was thinking about that. If Phillip’s been spending his days with the widow, he wouldn’t have been around here to see us going in and out.”
“Quilley doesn’t know us.” Adriana turned to Nicholas. “And you organized the rooms, so the Sommerville name isn’t in the register.”
Nicholas tipped his head her way. “Wait here while I check with Quilley.” He strode for the door, then paused and looked back. “Lord Phillip Sommerville?”
