Months after the mysterious letter had arrived, he had stumbled across it again while riffling through papers on his desk. He had set it aside a second time, but like a splinter wedged under his skin, the words stuck. They reminded him of questions that ten years later still begged to be answered.
It is time.
It was time. After all, a man deserved to know if someone had tried to murder him.
He clenched his jaw, the pain in his cheek reminding him of another pressing matter. He needed to determine how to save Lady Julia Chandler from marriage to his brother.
Her parting words forced him to rephrase his thought.
Would the lady let him save her?
It did not matter. He had made up his mind the minute his lips had touched hers.
She deserved better than Edmund. He just needed to convince her of it.
THE BLACK STALLION was a stunning example of equine beauty, all undulating muscle and whipcord strength as he circled the paddock, avoiding the large man with the coiled rope held loosely at his side. Daniel leaned over the paddock fence, resting his arms on the top rail. He grinned when the stallion rose on his hind legs and pawed the air, nostrils flaring, eyes wild.
“I think you have met your match in this one, Tanner. Why don’t you let a real horseman have a go at him?”
The man whirled, his impatient scowl transforming into surprise. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed like a buoy as he swallowed. “Your Grace, I didn’t know you were here. I—”
Daniel snorted. “Please. As if my brother would risk being tossed on his precious aristocratic arse. If he survived the fall, the indignity of it would scar him for life.”
Robbie Tanner’s brown eyes homed in on Daniel’s features. Soon a broad smile split his face, and he planted his hands on his hips. “I’ll be. The prodigal son returns, and here I am fresh out of fatted calves.”
“You never did leave any extras,” he rejoined, eyeing a frame that carried well over eighteen stone and peaked above six feet.
Robbie grunted. “Good thing you no longer need any. America must agree with you. You’ve added a few stone, but could carry a bit more.” He cut the distance separating them and tossed his rope over the fence. With an agility that belied his size, he vaulted over it. “It’s been too damn long.” He beamed a smile.
Daniel ignored the beefy hand thrust at him and pulled his friend into a hug. As Robbie pounded his back, he feared a bruising if he did not extricate himself soon. Disentangling himself, he smiled at his friend. Not all his childhood memories were bad. Some were good, and Robbie Tanner often played a role in the happier ones.
The Tanner family was the local landed gentry. They owned well over a hundred acres, and for generations, they had prospered in the breeding and trade of prime bloodstock. If one sought quality horseflesh at a fair price, they found their way to the Tanner Stables. Having an affinity for horses and coveting an escape from the echoing silence in Bedford Hall, Daniel had often gravitated to the Tanners’ household.
Robbie nodded toward High Street. “Did you come through the village proper?”
“No, I rode the back way. I was forewarned that the fall festival was in full swing.”
Taunton Village was known for it its abundance of wildlife and the bountiful fish populating its rivers, but come September, those assets fell secondary to the fall festival. Striped booths sprung up to host vendors peddling their wares, magicians weaving their magic, and fortune-tellers spinning prophesies. Aromas of fresh-baked goods and mouthwatering pastries competed with the succulent smells of roasted pig, duck, and beef.
Games and contests were organized, as well as exhibitions demonstrating daring feats of horsemanship, fine marksmanship, or athletic prowess. It was a plethora of activities to entice the patrons into emptying their pockets of coveted coins. He recalled losing a few quid on various ventures.
Today he had given the village a wide berth, not wanting word of his return to reach Edmund until he was ready. His brother had a canny ability of knocking one’s plans awry. Daniel had no intention of tipping his hand until he was prepared to deflect his brother’s interference.
“Good. It’s a madhouse out there, and your arrival would have been like tossing a stick into a beehive. Best stay clear of it until you are ready to weather the response. Now then, absent a fatted calf, we will have to settle for breaking out my good whiskey. Shall we retire to my office?”
“After you,” he said. “Ah, is it still in the loft above the stables?”
Robbie looked affronted. “I’ll have you know that like you, my prospects have improved over the past decade. As the heir apparent, I have a real office now.”