In the Brazilian's Debt(74)

                Even the moon had gone behind a cloud, Lizzie realised ruefully as she stared out of the window in her bedroom. She had one more night in the old house, burning the last of the logs gifted to her, and remembering happier times with her grandmother.

                Her parents—not so much, Lizzie accepted wryly as she hunkered down on the window seat to hug her knees. It was vital to keep a sense of humour if she was going to survive the next few days. She stared out over the lake where moonlight was streaming like a silver banner, remembering that tomorrow the last of the horses would go, even the precious colts her grandmother had bred, and next to go would be all the contents in the house, until finally the house itself was sold. A professional auctioneer from the local town was coming to conduct the sale, and whether it was the developer who bought the estate, or the town council who rushed in last minute to save it—in the unlikely event that Lizzie’s pleading letter had arrived before the council went into recess for Christmas—this would be the last time she looked out over this view.

                * * *

                She had intended to stay awake all night so she wouldn’t miss a minute of her last night at Rottingdean House, but in the end exhaustion drove her to bed, and she was woken by the sound of an engine—several engines—

                The horseboxes! Lizzie remembered, jumping out of bed. They had come to take the horses away. Running to the window, she threw back the curtains and peered out. Several big vehicles were already lined up in the yard. She would have to put the bravest face of all on today. Brave and practical, Lizzie concluded, her thoughts racing. There was work to do. The sale and the scandal of a second bankruptcy wouldn’t just bring serious buyers in droves to Rottingdean, it would bring rubberneckers from all over the county who would trample the good pastureland to mud, unless she did something about it.

                She showered and dressed quickly before running downstairs to the yard. But what she saw confused her. Horses arriving? That couldn’t be right.

                ‘You’ll have to take them back,’ she told the lead driver when he came round to help the grooms to lead the ponies out of their confinement. ‘They can’t stay here. Everything is being sold today.’

                ‘Sorry, miss, we’ve got our orders. The horses are being delivered, not taken away,’ he informed her as he gestured to his men, who had briefly halted at Lizzie’s arrival, to get on with the job.

                ‘But who sent them?’

                The man shrugged. ‘The new owner? I really don’t know. I just have my orders. Six ponies in my care, and another sixteen in the other vehicles.’

                ‘Twenty-two ponies?’ Lizzie exclaimed with alarm. ‘And how can there be a new owner when the sale hasn’t even begun?’ She didn’t know whether to be glad that a developer would hardly deliver so many horses to a property he intended to demolish, or concerned that the new owner hadn’t even troubled to look the place over before dispatching what were clearly valuable animals.

                ‘As I said, I’m afraid I can’t give you any more details than I already have, because I don’t know anything more,’ the man told her, turning away. ‘These are the stables?” he asked over his shoulder.

                ‘Yes. And the home paddock is empty, if you want to use it,’ she said, pointing away from the house.

                Was Chico the new owner? Her heart began to race. He had been locked away with his lawyers. Snatches of conversation they’d had earlier came back to her. ‘...the estate is in danger of being lost, and I’d like to help so you can keep it in the family. As your grandmother helped me.’ But she had refused Chico’s offer of help, suspecting too many conditions would be attached. Had he just ignored her wishes and gone ahead without telling her?