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“Aye. I trimmed his hooves this morning and just wanted to see if it’s enough, or if I need to send for a farrier.”
“Oh.”
“What brings you down here?”
Oh yes, that. She’d nearly forgotten. “I just happened upon Powell, digging through Rose’s blanket chest. Evidently the little ones have been stealing since before their brother’s arrival, and the staff have been attempting to recover the items and return them to their rightful places. It seems to be a bit of a war, and I think the children may be winning.”
The groom snorted. “I knew Powell planned to go hunting for missing bits and bobs. No one’s come out here to look, though, so evidently I’m in on the dodge, or I’m sympathetic to the snabblers.” He grinned. “Or as I might say to a proper young lady, the rest of the house either thinks I’m in on the thefts, or thinks I’m not of a mind to stop them.”
“Are you? The second one, that is.”
Shrugging, he led Topper over to a fence where a blanket and saddle waited. “I think I understand why the little ones are taking things. If I had nothing and knew I was to be cast out of such an opulent palace, I might be nicking everything in sight myself.”
Hannah frowned. “They aren’t being cast out. The Pershings are finding a nice home for them.”
“I don’t know that the scamp and the sprite believe that.” The groom saddled the horse as he spoke. “How often do you reckon anything nice has happened to them? I know their own brother told them he’d find them all a proper place to live, too.”
“They don’t think it’ll last, you mean.”
“Exactly. They’re accustomed to looking after themselves.”
“Poor darlings.”
Billet swung up into the saddle. “So, when I tell you that they’ve been spending a fair amount of time in the orchard behind the old fallen tree, I’m thinking you might choose not to pass that bit of information on to Powell.”
He did know where they’d been stashing their treasures, clever man. She wondered if Billet was always so aware of everything going on about the property. He certainly paid more attention than she’d realized. “As I wasn’t included in the original plan,” she said, “I’m inclined to keep any information to myself.”
He grinned, the sight making her feel a bit light-headed. “Good lass.” Tom reached down an arm. “Come for a quick ride with me.”
“A ride? I—I have duties in the house. I cannot be galloping about the—”
“The family’s at luncheon,” he broke in over her rambling. “We’ll be but ten minutes. Twenty at most. No galloping.” He kept his hand outstretched.
She should be thinking of her reputation, of what the rest of the staff would think to see her riding off with Billet, but instead she took his hand, stepped into the stirrup as he indicated, and flew into the air to land across his thighs. Good heavens. Reflexively she put an arm around his shoulders.
“I’ve got you,” he said, smiling at her.
“Where are we going?”
“Just down the hill a bit. I want to show you something.”
Before she could ask for more information, he’d tapped his heels against the bay’s ribs, and they set off at an easy canter. It was the first time she’d ever ridden a horse, though this was actually more like just sitting on one. Tom was definitely the one doing the riding.
They descended the hill on the road to Birdlip, crossing the small stream on the stone bridge that she always thought of as marking the difference between Winnover Hall and the rest of the world. The Pershings owned the land here, as well, and all the way past Birdlip, but this was where their tenants lived, and it wasn’t the Pershing gardeners or staff who cared for it.
Tom pulled up the horse as they reached a small cottage at the edge of the village. It was a pretty thing, with a white fence half obscured by climbing roses, and baskets of flowers hung between the pair of windows overlooking the road. She looked up at the groom to find him gazing at the cottage, as well.
“Why are we stopping here?”
“What do you think of it?” He gestured toward the building.
“It’s lovely. Why… are we here?”
“I bought it yesterday,” he stated, as calmly as if he’d just said “horses eat hay.”
She twisted to look him in the eye. “You bought it? Why? You sleep in the stable, do you not?”
The groom nodded. “I told you that my mother pointed her finger at me.”