Page 11 of Jaxon (Gentlemen of War #4)
Jaxon
As the thunder roared and the lightning crackled, Bella proved to be more skittish than the others as the skies unleashed a storm that confirmed Mr. Gentry’s dire prediction. I knew the horses would be restless, but I hadn’t expected Bella’s fright to be so distressing. I had acquired the two-year-old thoroughbred from Tattersalls in January but had difficulty getting the filly used to me or the surroundings, and this weather only reinforced the quandary.
Jesse rode her from London to The Unburdened precisely because I wanted to see how she might do in the country as opposed to the crowded city and the differences were not significant enough. In the last eight weeks, she had improved very little, and tonight, as she paced anxiously within her stall with both ears pointed forward and wide nostrils, I attempted to soothe her as the rain struck the sides of the stable with a force I hadn’t seen in ages.
Holding her bit with one hand, I brushed my other hand soothingly across her delicate muzzle, forehead, crest, and through her coarse mane before I reached her flank. I kept my touch soft, using a careful balance of firmness and slack, whispering words of comfort into her ears. Her muscles twitched and quivered beneath my hand, and I stole deep inhales of the earthy scent enveloping me. There was nothing like the rich, invigorating smell of a horse. If I had the freedom to choose an occupation, other than military, law, or church, I might have chosen to be a breeder.
Bella and Chesapeake were half-siblings, sired from the same steed, which was why I paid a hefty price for her. I was nearly out bid by Mr. Drummond who owned a horse establishment in Northumberland. Bella had the genetic potential to be a great thoroughbred broodmare herself, but not with her current proclivities.
“The wind ripped a hole in the roof, sir,” Diggs said as he descended the ladder from the rafters. “I tried to patch it as best I could, but the rain is making it difficult.”
The stable had suffered significantly in my absence. In its former state, it could house two dozen horses sufficiently, but at present, four of the stalls were in serious disrepair along with arbitrary parts of the structure. “Thank you, Diggs. Did you happen to check for any other holes while you were up there?” I asked as water trailed down from the wood beams, dripping into wooden buckets. I wasn’t entirely sure, at this moment, if the moisture came from additional damage or just pooled and leaked from the rafters.
“Yes, there are two more significant holes, but I need to get more nails from the tack room.”
“Very well, until they are fixed, I’ll move Bella to a different stall.”
Diggs pulled his coat collar closer to his neck and tugged his hat down to his brows in anticipation of braving the onslaught in order to get to the house. “Sir?” Diggs mumbled, glancing warily toward the door. “There is something that’s been on my mind that I wish to speak to you about.”
I arched a brow. “Sounds serious.”
He didn’t shake his head or nod. “It might be nothing…”
I continued to soothe Bella, curious at my man’s timing for such a peculiar discussion. “What might be nothing?” One lesson I have learned over time is that the smallest curiosities tend to be greater than we anticipated.
He cleared his voice. “I know you served in His Majesty’s military, but Lord Lucas offered a vague disclosure as to where you served or for what office.”
I found his inquiry odd for this precise moment. “Why do you ask?”
“I am not trying to intrude upon your privacy, sir. I only have some questions. Questions that have surfaced as of late.”
I said nothing, only leveled a stare in his direction, which he seemed to understand as his cue to continue.
“The letters you write are addressed to an M. Kilner, correct?”
“Yes,” I said with caution. Why was Diggs so concerned with my correspondence?
“And they are sent to Brooks’s in London?”
He already knew this because both he and O’Keefe were tasked to hire a messenger in the village to deliver the letters. “And?” I prodded.
He took a deep breath, and I noticed his hands were not as steady as before as they gripped the edge of his coat.
“Have you read my personal correspondence, Diggs?” I thought back to the papers on my study desk that could have been rifled through, but the letters were always hidden. Of course, he could have opened the letter en route and somehow sealed it again. It did not take much to find candle wax at an inn in town to replace a broken seal. But my uncle’s stamp? I kept it out in the open.
“No, of course not, sir,” he countered with conviction, then shifted weight in his stance. “I—”
Crash! Suddenly a plank fell from the ceiling, smashing into a beam and landing on the ground near my feet with a loud thud. Though it did not touch Bella, she grunted and snorted, rearing back on her hind legs in fright. I quickly tried to reach for her bit and tethers to settle her. “Go, Diggs!” I hollered. “Get the nails from the house so we can get those boards in place!”
Diggs rushed out through the door, slamming it tightly shut behind him.
I continued to calm my horse, though it took several minutes before I could get her to trust me long enough to lead her to a drier stall. By the time Diggs returned, our focus had shifted to the repairs and away from his earlier inquiry, though it had never entirely left my mind.
As we worked to secure the holes in the roof, the rain continued to pound down in sheets, drenching us and the upper floor of the stable. I wish I had taken Mr. Gentry’s forecast more seriously after all. This thunderstorm proved to be quite the beast.
“Whatever it is you must know or ask of me…” I turned to Diggs as I grabbed the lantern hanging from a hook near the door. “Can we speak of it tomorrow?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied just as the reverberating sounds of a collision shook my core.
“What was that?” Diggs asked frantically the very moment high-pitched sounds penetrated the walls of the stable.
“Someone is screaming!” I held still for only a brief moment, throwing the stable doors open and stepping outside. My flame was instantly doused by the rain.
“Where is it coming from?” Diggs hollered as he stepped out beside me, slamming the stable door shut and securing it with a wooden board.
Quickly glancing around, I took several steps toward the house as the cries grew louder, but realized they didn’t materialize ahead of me—I could tell they came from the opposite direction.
I didn’t wait to see if Diggs followed me, knowing he likely would, as I tore into a run toward the sounds… toward the river .