Page 64 of The Cornish Inheritance

“No running,” Caroline called, but it was already too late as they charged out of the door.

She turned back to Sir Hugh. “I think someone has tried to kill Nat.”

To do him credit, he didn’t look at all surprised. “What makes you think that?”

“The saddle. And I only found out yesterday that he’s not Mrs. Treloar’s real son. Trefusis is after the inheritance, I’m certain. Mrs. Treloar thinks he’s interested in her, but he’s not. It’s Hetty he’s after. And Hetty’s terrified of him.”

He did look surprised this time. “Good heavens, girl, what are you, some sort of detective? You sound like you’ve been very busy. How do you know this is all true?”

She glanced toward the door, still slightly ajar. “Firstly, Nat is a cavalryman. He wouldn’t just fall off a horse. And Old Pascoe is, as you say, a stickler for maintaining the saddlery.” Were that footsteps outside? “I’ve been at dinner with the family, and Trefusis was there too. When Mrs. Treloar isn’t looking, you should see the way he ogles Hetty. She hates it. He even ogled me a bit too. But I’m twenty-seven, and I know the difference between a simple ogle and one that means more. He intends to have Hetty for himself, and I’m sure he must want the estate and mines as well. He’s got Mrs. Treloar in his pocket because she fancies herself in love with him and thinks he loves her back. There’s no fool like an old fool, as my mother would say.” Frequently about her father, but she wasn’t going to add that bit.

“Slow down, slow down. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

Caroline threw another glance at the door. She could now hear running footsteps and the scampering of paws.

“I think you could be in danger too,” she got out, just before Dash ran into the room and launched himself at the bed. No respecter of etiquette, he climbed into Sir Hugh’s lap and began licking his face with enthusiasm.

Yves and Hetty ran in.

Yves was clutching the draughts set to his chest. “We saw Old Pascoe take the cart out. Mrs. Teague wouldn’t let us go with him.”

Thank goodness for Mrs. Teague.

Hetty ran to the window. “There he goes now. I do hope they find Nat and nothing’s happened to him.”

Caroline suppressed a shiver. The longer the search went on, the more likely it seemed that something had befallen Nat to prevent him coming home on foot in pursuit of his horse.

“Use that table and those stools,” Sir Hugh said, waving a hand at the far side of the room. “Set your game up by the window, over there.”

They did as they were told, and Caroline moved her own chair closer to the head of Sir Hugh’s bed. “What are we going to do?” She kept her voice down but needn’t have bothered as Yves and Hetty were now arguing as to who should have which color.

“We don’t have any proof,” Sir Hugh muttered. “But if Nat’s found, he might be able to offer some.”

Caroline nodded. “And you shouldn’t take any medicines from Rodgers. Whoever is providing the laudanum must be getting it from her, I’m sure. She must know what they’re doing. And Nat and Yves aren’t the only ones standing in the way of Trefusis. You are too.”

He nodded. “I realize that. But I can’t do without my laudanum. I have to have it in order to sleep.”

Caroline glanced at Hetty and Yves. “Well, don’t let her give you too much. Try to take the minimum amount necessary, if you can.”

The old man’s eyes clouded. “That’ll be hard to do.”