Chapter 114

“Tristan, Tristan,” he called. “Alfie thinks they are leaving. Wallingford’s coach has just raced down the drive at full tilt.

“Bastard,” whispered Tristan. “We have to follow.”

Tristan and Gareth ran to the stables, but they had to be about half a mile from the house. They arrived, out of breath and sweating, to find Alfie arguing with a groom, hands on hips.

“What is it?” Tristan said, mopping his head with his handkerchief as he approached the two

“All the horses are gone.”

“What do you mean, gone?” Tristan said, shoving the handkerchief back in his pocket. Gareth pushed past to go into the stalls.

“Sir, his lordship bade us exercise the remaining ones this morning. The grooms have them out on the hills. They won’t be very long as they are back, maybe a couple of hours or so?”

“Remaining horses? Where are the other guests?”

“Mostly they have left, sir.”

Tristan wanted to scream. They had been outmanoeuvred. Comprehensively.