Page 21 of Miss Flibbertigibbet and the Barbarian
The earl nodded in understanding, but then his face clouded with puzzlement. “What I don’t understand is why the blighters thought to take the horse now. Just when we’ve got Mr. Cynster visiting.”
Nicholas exchanged a glance with Adriana. “I think we can assume that whoever is behind the theft heard the same rumor that brought me here.”
The earl’s frown deepened. “Oh, I don’t think that could be it.” He looked down the table at the countess. “It doesn’t seem likely, does it, my dear? That The Barbarian being here would be widely known?”
The countess patted her lips with her napkin, then replied, “I suspect we’ll never know, my dear.” With a gentle smile, she glanced up at Merriweather as the butler removed her plate. “Thank you, Merriweather. What have we for dessert this evening?”
The answer was a luscious raspberry charlotte russe that was so delicious that all conversation ceased while the company did it justice.
As he savored the sweet concoction, Nicholas decided that the earl’s rather naive view of the degree of interest a rumor about a horse such as The Barbarian would generate in Thoroughbred circles was merely a reflection of the earl’s lack of connection with that world. There was no real reason he would appreciate the avid attention that news of a horse like The Barbarian inevitably generated in such spheres.
The last mouthfuls of dessert were being consumed when a footman appeared in the doorway, all but quivering with eagerness as he paused on the threshold.
Addie saw and turned toward the doorway. “Yes, Phelps?”
The footman bowed. “A message from Rogers, my lady. They’ve a firm sighting of the rider leading The Barbarian out along the Grantham road.”
“Excellent!” Addie looked across the table at Nicholas. She was beyond keen to get him away from her father, and this was the perfect excuse. She’d been on tenterhooks throughout the meal and felt they’d stretched their luck to the limit. She pushed back her chair and looked down the table, then back at her father. “Mama, Papa. Please excuse us. Nicholas and I must be off. Immediately.”
Her father looked confused. “But… Surely, Mr. Cynster and Rogers can handle the business. No need for you to go, is there?”
Addie laid a comforting hand on her father’s. “I have to go. I’m the only one who can ride The Barbarian, and if he decides he no longer wishes to be led, well, it might be difficult for anyone else to bring him back.”
Her father’s frown held more confusion than anything else; Addie prayed Nicholas wouldn’t see that.
She glanced at him and caught his gaze, but continued speaking to her parents. “Given the hour, it’s possible our company—you’ll remember we mentioned taking several others—might be forced to spend the night at an inn, which is why Sally, my maid, will be accompanying me.” She transferred her gaze to her father and patted his hand. “It’ll all be perfectly above board. No reason to fret.”
He was clearly fretting regardless, but her mother came to the rescue. “Of course, dear.” She shifted her gaze to Nicholas. “And Mr. Cynster and his man will be with you as well. I’m quite sure everything will work out as it should.”
Her mother’s steady conviction sufficed to soothe and re-anchor her father. After studying her mother’s serene expression, he looked at Addie, turned his hand to grip and lightly squeeze her fingers, then nodded. “Very well, my dear. You and Mr. Cynster have clearly got things under control.” He looked at Nicholas and inclined his head. “We’ll leave the matter in your capable hands.”
Nicholas dipped his head as if accepting a commission. “Indeed, sir. You may rely on us.” He glanced at Addie and rose.
She all but sprang to her feet. She swooped and kissed her father’s cheek, then waved to her mother and siblings. “We’ll send word!”
She whirled and led the way out. Behind her, she heard Nicholas murmur farewells, then he was striding after her.
Once in the hall, she slowed, a species of relief trickling through her veins. There’d been a few tense moments, but all in all, they—the family collectively—had survived the interlude in reasonable shape.
She halted and turned to Nicholas. “I need to change.”
He nodded. “I’ll go and assemble our party. Let’s meet in the forecourt.”
“I’ll fetch Sally as well.” She snatched up her skirts and started up the stairs.
On the landing, she paused and glanced back in time to see Nicholas stride out of the front door. Reassured that he was safely out of the house, she turned up the next flight and rushed on.
* * *
In the small sitting room at the top of the main stairs, the earl and countess stood at the window that overlooked the forecourt and surveyed the gathering below.
When the company formed up and rode out, with Addie and Nicholas Cynster leading the way down the drive, the earl shook his head. “I have to confess, my dear, that I’m no longer so sure…well, about anything. It was supposed to be the younger brother who came, and I really had no idea that the horse would be so very valuable that someone else might hear of it and steal him.” Frowning worriedly, he glanced at his wife. “Did you?”
“No, indeed. But that fact might explain why old Wisthorpe never advertised his ownership of the horse.” The countess watched the riders head into the shadows of the avenue and patted her husband’s hand reassuringly. “Regardless, my dear, we have done our homework, and from all I’ve seen thus far of young Cynster... Well, he’s not that young, is he? Which is a point to note, as that might prove to be a good thing. Indeed, I’m starting to wonder if Fate hasn’t decided to lend our little project a helping hand.”
The earl grunted. “Fate, I will remind you, is a fickle female. God help us if she’s decided to dip her fingers into our pie, but if she has, then I expect we’ll just have to trust in her wisdom and hope that everything works out all right.”
The countess smiled in agreement, and by mutual accord, the pair turned away from the sight of their elder daughter riding away beside Nicholas Cynster.
