Page 63 of Lies in Little Sutherland
“He must be up at the house,” I said when no response came.“There’s no need for him to be here, is there?I’m sure Uncle Harold isn’t planning to go anywhere before supper.And Alfie has duties inside, as well.”
“He wasn’t at tea in the servants’ hall,” Christopher said as he followed me out.
“Nor was Tidwell.”I closed the door behind him.“The two of them were probably cleaning up after the family before sitting down for their own meal.”
Christopher gave a shrug.“Let’s take a look at the horses, then.”
We headed for the stables, where the air was much warmer, and full of snorting and movement.Manes tossed and tails flicked as horses nickered.
“All present,” I said.
Christopher nodded.“But if anyone had ridden to the village this morning, the horse would be back now.”
I looked around.“Where are the grooms?”
“Having their tea, too, I wager.”Christopher looked around as well.“Or a sit-down when they’re not needed.Back there.”
He pointed to a door in the back of the stable, through which we did indeed find the two grooms sharing… not tea, but a pint and a game of cards across a rickety table.
When Christopher pushed the door open, they both jumped to their feet, one of them so quickly that his chair turned over.Guilt was marked clearly across both of their faces.One of them gulped.“My?—”
Christopher waved a hand.“Not Crispin.Christopher Astley.”
Neither of them said anything, but they did look a bit more relaxed once they knew that it wasn’t Uncle Harold or his son who had caught them soldiering in the middle of the workday.Knowing Crispin, I would have thought that he’d be more likely to join them than tell his father what he’d seen, although I suppose I might be wrong.Uncle Harold might have beaten those sorts of egalitarian inclinations out of him.
“We wanted to know whether anyone had taken any of the horses out today,” Christopher said.“Sometime this morning, perhaps.”
The two grooms exchanged a glance.“We did,” one of them said.I didn’t know his name, I was chagrined to realize.I ride, but only when I can’t get out of it, and they were both new since the last time I had visited the Sutherland Hall stable.Perhaps I wasn’t as egalitarian as I’d like to think.
The other groom added, “The weather’s not good enough for any of the guests to want to ride today.”
There was a trace of something in his voice that might have been humor, but that might equally well have been the condescension of a man—or boy, he wasn’t much more—to the upper class who was too delicate to do what was necessary.
Christopher, to his credit, ignored it.
“When was this?”I wanted to know.“That you rode out?”
They both turned to me.A second passed before the first chap told me that it had been this morning after breakfast.
“Did you happen to see anyone on your ride?Where did you go?”
They had gone across the fields, it seemed, and they both agreed that they hadn’t seen a soul.
“Not even Christopher and myself walking down to the village?”
They exchanged a glance, but were adamant that no, they hadn’t seen anyone.“Sorry, Miss Darling,” one of them said.
“That’s all right.”I smiled pleasantly.“Carry on.We’ll see ourselves out.”
I stepped back and Christopher shut the door.We didn’t speak until we had left the stable and were outside in the wet again.
“They could have done it,” I said.“They were out here by themselves.No one kept tabs on them.They could have ridden to the village, killed Doctor Meadows, and tried to frame me.”
Christopher nodded, although he seemed to disagree, or at least he delighted in playing devil’s advocate.“Why would they do, though, Pippa?You don’t even know their names.I’m surprised that they know yours.”
I was too, frankly.“Be that as it may, they do know it.One of them could have written the note.”
“Would they have access to the note paper?”
