not tempted fate, that he had an almost tender memory of the end of the evening.
Of course, he must not be overoptimistic. He had not failed to notice that Aled had disappeared during the singing and had not returned. Aled had avoided him. Perhaps because he had not wanted to be trapped into having either to show open friendship or to openly snub his friend.
Were they friends? Geraint was not sure. He doubted Aled was sure either. And he guessed that neither of them really wanted to find out at the moment.
But Geraint felt hopeful. For a few days there had been no “accidents.” And tomorrow he had an appointment with the man who had leased the toll roads and gates from the trust of which he, Geraint, was part owner. He was going to see if something could be done about lessening the burden on the farmers. It seemed they had two particular grievances. They paid tolls on the vast quantities of lime they had to haul for fertilizing their fields, and they paid frequent tolls because there were several different trusts in Carmarthenshire and they all had their gates and their charges.
Surely something could be arranged. Surely landowners like himself would consent to paying tolls on the roads too—it seemed only fair. And perhaps too they could lower the cost of the lease so that the man leasing from them would not be out of pocket for easing the burden on the poor.
It was going to mean several meetings with several people, and some of them—like his aunt and uncle—would doubtless be resistant at first. But he could get them to see sense. He had never lacked for persuasive powers.
He went to bed that night quite early and slept soundly after his sleeplessness of the night before. He woke up later, feeling angry, wondering what sort of drunken brawl was going on in the street outside until he remembered that he was at Tegfan, in the country. But what the devil was going on outside? He could not have been sleeping for longer than a few hours. It must be the very dead of night. And yet he could hear yelling voices and the crunch of boots on the gravel of the terrace. He could hear at least one horse whinnying.
He looked down from his window a few moments later on a scene of chaos. There was plenty of moonlight tonight. He could see the stable block over to his right. A couple of grooms were standing outside it, one hopping about as he tried to pull on a boot, the other seeming to have a hard time getting his arms inside the sleeves of a shirt. Other grooms were dashing after disappearing horses, in various states of undress.
It did not take a genius to understand what had happened. By some strange chance—doubtless an accident—the stable doors had been left open as well as all the doors into the horses’ stalls, and the horses had bolted. No one could be blamed. Accidents happened, after all.
Geraint’s jaw hardened and he felt fury ball inside him. And disappointment. And frustration. It would take his men perhaps the rest of the night to round up the frightened animals—they had clearly not wandered out of those unlatched doors. They had been driven out.
He turned and strode toward his dressing room.
They were fortunate that at least they were not hampered by the darkness. It took them less than an hour to round up all but two of the horses. One of those was Geraint’s own. It and the other missing one were nowhere to be found.
“Leave it,” Geraint said wearily to his head groom sometime later when the two of them were at the northern end of the park, uphill from the house, and could see down and across a whole expanse of land. Nothing was moving except for a few servants, halfheartedly searching for the missing animals. “Tell the men to go back to bed. We will find them in the morning, or more likely they will return on their own when they discover they are ready for their morning feed.”
The head groom did not argue. He made his way back downhill, leaving Geraint where he was.
The trouble with foolish pranks like this, Geraint thought, was that one dared not show how furious one was. For that was just what the pranksters hoped to provoke. They would like nothing better than to have him storm into the village tomorrow and about the