Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(11)

Everett nodded. “Good. Avery and I can have this conversation without you being compromised. We now have two incidents to talk with Avery about.”

Everett and Nash talked together in Nash’s bedchamber before going to meet Avery.

“Son, he’ll try to kick you out, but I won’t let him. I need you as a witness to this conversation. Do not speak unless he asks you a specific question and only answer after you’ve thought through the repercussions. You can always answer, ‘I’d rather not say,’ if you’re not sure what to say. Got it?”

Nash nodded. “I’m ready.”

Everett slapped him on the back. “Good man.”

Everett and Nash took seats. Avery eyed Nash, his displeasure obvious, but neither Everett nor Nash moved a muscle.

Avery brought them both drinks then sat behind his desk in a position of power.

“Your letter sounded urgent. I hope nothing is wrong. How may I help you?”

Everett leaned forward. “We’ve had a serious problem with our sheep being slaughtered over the past month. They have been gutted from below their necks to their tails in one long cut. Then their insides have been removed, or as much of their insides as possible have been removed with a knife.

“We found it disturbing that someone would kill sheep, but we also found it disturbing at the manner they were killed.”

Avery interrupted. “That’s terrible. I can understand why you are upset, but we know nothing about your sheep and can’t help you, I’m sorry to say.”

Everett leaned back in his chair. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Avery. After two weeks of sheep slaughters, I ordered my men to watch the sheep at night. I had ten men out at night every night.

“It didn’t take long for the men to see Henry coming into the field. I told my men to wait until the man they found started gutting the sheep before they moved in. It was Henry cutting down the belly of a sheep. My men, ten witnesses, told him clearly never to come back. If he returns to my land, he does so at his own peril. The men will continue to watch the sheep, and they will be armed.”

Avery nodded. In a voice more appropriate for tea than for talk about gutting sheep, Avery said, “I understand. Who knows about this incident?”

Everett blinked. It took him a minute to figure out Avery wanted to know how his reputation would suffer. “Ten men and anyone else they’ve told.”

Avery took a drink, “And will you keep them quiet?”

Everett shook his head. “I don’t see how. My village is buzzing about what happened to Penelope. There aren’t very many, save the deaf, who don’t know that story. The sheep story is just the jam that is spread on the bread.”

Avery slammed his palms against the top of his desk. This was the first time Everett had ever seen him lose his control. “The story you heard about Penelope is not true.”

Everett smiled. “Not true? How can you say it is not true without knowing the story I heard about Penelope? Every villager has spoken to someone here wondering if something that horrifying could be true. I don’t know how many of my villagers have approached your healer, but she can hardly get any healing done she gets approached so often.

“Keep your son off my land, Avery. I am banishing him from my land, and I mean to enforce it.”

Everett and Nash stood. Before leaving Avery’s study, Everett turned and said, “Something unexpected came up. We cannot accept your invitation to stay the night. After the evening meal, we will be on our way.”

Avery nodded. In a sarcastic voice, he said, “I think that’s best.”

In Nash’s bedchamber, Everett said, “Henry’s not right in the head. I’d call him the village idiot, but he’s worse. Pack everything and bring it to the stables. As soon as the meal is over, we ride.”

Everett and Nash skipped the drinks before dinner, and a footman knocked on Nash’s bedchamber door when the family made its way into the dining room.

They entered the dining room and everyone stood. The ladies curtsied, and the gentlemen bowed. They did the same and were shown to their seats.

Everett was seated next to Cecilia, and Nash saw them begin a cordial conversation. She looked like a lovely woman, he thought. She probably didn’t have many guests so entertaining them was novel.

Nash sat across from Penelope. She had bandages covering one side of her face wrapped under her chin and around the back of her head.

He didn’t look at her bandages long because his gaze landed on her warm brown eyes looking at him. Could a twenty-year-old make a connection with a fourteen-year-old? It wasn’t that kind of connection; he was sure of it. It was a two-people-in-the–world-are-on-the–same-hill connection. They stood on the hill. They looked out on the same thing. They agreed they liked what they saw. Brothers had it. Best friends had it. He had it – with her.

He knew it wasn’t from the sympathy of seeing her head bandaged. It was from the way she spoke to him with her eyes. She spoke volumes with the blink of an eye.

Nash was jolted out of his reverie by Henry’s uninviting, harsh whiny voice. Nash pictured him differently from what he saw in front of him. He looked . . . normal.

He leaned forward and repeated, “Nash?”

“I beg your pardon, Henry.”

“I said I’ve heard you have a problem with your sheep.”