Chapter 12 #2
“No, just curious. I’ll have coffee.”
Once poured, he drank it slowly, trying to discern anything odd about the taste, but there was nothing wrong with the coffee, either.
In fact, it was quite good.
What was going on here?
Not that he should be irritated that a hearty breakfast had been served.
So what had Tulip taken last night to knock her out cold?
He did not like puzzles he could not solve.
Mr. Carver was waiting for them by the carriage when he and Tulip walked out of the manor house a short while later. “Climb in with us, Carver.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” He scampered in after them and took a seat across from him and Tulip.
It was a blustery morning, but the sun was still shining and the sky was a vivid blue. There was no threat of rain anywhere in sight, but English weather was always unpredictable. It was best to complete their tour of the local Davenport farms as soon as possible.
Alex kept the conversation light and pleasant as they rode toward the first farm.
He stared out of the carriage window as Mr. Carver and Tulip pointed to various places of interest.
For the most part, however, their carriage rolled swiftly along these rural roads that were fairly isolated.
The scenery was beautiful, a refreshing change from the crowded London streets, but the quiet was a bit disconcerting to Alex.
He’d grown used to the noises and odors of London.
He looked north and saw glistening water in the distance, the sun-dappled gleam of the Bristol Channel.
They rode past salt marshes and streams that were offshoots of the channel.
But as their carriage moved further inland, the terrain became lush and green. Those salt marshes were replaced by rolling hills and flower-dotted meadows.
Pastures were plentiful and divided by ancient stone fences.
Some of these pastures held sheep grazing on the grass while others had cows wandering in them.
He noticed several apple orchards on their approach to the first of his farms.
“Here we are, Your Grace. Lollibridge Farm,” his estate manager said with obvious pride, and then proceeded to give them a tour. “This one’s your largest and best producer.”
The farmer who ran the place came out to greet them as they began to walk around the grounds that were comprised mostly of apple orchards.
“This is Mr. Rawlings,” said Mr. Carver.
Tulip apparently knew him from church, for she stepped forward to greet him warmly. “How lovely to see you again, Mr. Rawlings.”
The man’s smile was from ear to ear. “And you, Miss Tulip…that is, er…Your Grace. Your uncle said you’d gone to London to find yourself a husband.”
“I got the best,” she replied, smiling up at Alex.
After a round of genial conversation and a brief tour, Rawlings returned to his tasks while they continued to have a look around.
There was a cider press that appeared to be in good order, and a small chicken coop on the property as well as a barn that held a substantial number of milking cows.
“But this is not the Davenport dairy,” Mr. Carver explained.
“This farm is known primarily for its apple orchards. We sell the apples and cider come autumn. The apples will be at their best in about a month. That’s when we’ll hire day laborers to pick them, press some into cider, and take our wares to market. ”
“What is done with the milking cows?” Alex asked.
“These pastures have the best grass feed and our Somerset milk is particularly creamy because our cows are so well treated. Their milk is perfect for churning into butter or making the best cheese. We supply milk to the town of Cheddar where their cheeses have become quite popular because of their distinctive, deep yellow color. That is a sign of healthy cows. We also sell our milk to markets as far south as Exeter and as far north as Bristol. Of course, we are close to Bath and regularly sell all our products there. These farms supply not only milk, butter, and eggs, but salt, apples, and cider, too. Extracting salt from the marshes is another important use of the land.”
The next two farms were similarly run, their primary products being milk, cream, cider, and apples. But there were also some plum trees, acres of vegetable patches, and blackberries and strawberries growing wild on these two farms.
The fourth farm was where the Davenport cheeses were once produced and Alex was most interested in touring that farm next and seeing what could be done about reviving the abandoned cheesemaking operation.
Mr. Carver was delighted when he mentioned it.
“Aye, Your Grace. I would love to have us make our own cheeses again. We have everything we need for it, starting with the excellent grass feed for our cows. Milk, rennet, salt, but it will take time for the cheese to properly age and ripen. You would be sinking money into the production without seeing any financial return for several years.”
“How much do you think it will cost to get the cheese works running again?”
“Not sure, Your Grace. Depends on how badly the machinery has fallen into disrepair.”
They completed a cursory inspection of the cheesemaking machinery that did, unfortunately, require significant repair.
Alex felt some disappointment, but all in all the morning had gone well. “Let’s get those cost estimates as soon as possible, and we’ll decide what to do once we have the answer.”
Tulip tugged on his jacket sleeve to hold him back while Mr. Carver walked ahead to say farewell to the pleasant, older fellow who ran this fourth farm they had been touring. “There’s also my dowry,” she said quietly. “Uncle John will have it paid over to you before the end of the month.”
He placed his hand over hers as it rested on his arm. “No, that is to be preserved for you and our children.”
“But what is the point of a dowry if you will not put it to good use?”
“It is being put to good use, protecting you and our children. Those funds will be placed in your name alone so that no subsequent Davenport duke can ever get his grasping hands on it. If the cheese production proves successful, then I will consider investing some of your dowry funds into it, but that ownership interest will remain in your name. However, I will not allow it until I know this will be a profitable venture.”
“Did Uncle John insist on your holding my dowry apart?”
“No,” he said, smiling wryly. “I demanded that this be done. Whatever comes to you from your family shall remain yours always.”
She cast him a heartwarming smile. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”
He laughed. “Shall we move on to the dairy?”
It was the fifth and final Davenport asset they were to visit today.
“It is only a mile from here,” Mr. Carver said when they approached the carriage.
They all climbed back in.
However, this time his estate manager sat up front with Trent to show him the way. “There are a few turns that are easy to miss,” he explained.
Alex did not mind, for it gave him time alone with Tulip.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, settling beside her and taking her hand.
“Much more alert,” she assured him. “I don’t know what came over me this morning. My entire body felt like stone.”
He was almost certain she had been drugged.
But how?
And why?
Well, the answer to the ‘why’ was easy. The villain did not want her waking up while he…or she…tried to kill Alex. But why attack him in the bedchamber? It would look too much like murder if he were found dead in his bed.
Why not keep to what had worked in the past? Killings made to look like accidental deaths.
The perfect crimes.
A sabotaged carriage wheel would do the trick. A drowning. Falling off a horse.
Perhaps that last idea had been used too much.
Two of the last dukes had fallen off their horses.
Two dead dukes. Two broken necks.
A third duke dying of a broken neck while out riding would raise too many questions.
Another problem to be addressed by the killer was Alex’s manner of living. He was not profligate like his predecessors. Anyone who knew him would never believe he was drunk or reckless.
So, how would the killer do him in?
More important, who was the killer?
And how was Alex to stop him?
Of course, this still assumed there was an actual killer and an actual threat, not just his instincts on fire and sensing danger.
He needed to find out more as fast as possible.
“Tulip, would you mind if we rode to Burnham after we tour the dairy?”
Her eyes widened. “Not at all. Are we to visit my Hester family?”
He nodded. “I know it is not polite to drop in on them unannounced, but they must be eager to see you. And I know you are eager to see them. We would not stay long, just a quick visit.”
She nodded enthusiastically. “They would love it. So would I. They’ll invite us to stay for supper.”
Alex shook his head. “Would you mind if we refused? Trent is not familiar with the roads yet and I prefer to have him navigate them in daylight. Also, I expect Mr. Carver would like to return to his home at a decent hour. He’ll need a ride back to Thornwycke Hall where he’s left his horse.”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled at him.
“Mr. Carver lives in Burnham. On the same street as my aunt and uncle, in fact. He has only to walk down the street to arrive at his home. Oh, but his horse is at Thornwycke, that is true. He’ll need to retrieve his mount or else he’ll have to walk there tomorrow morning.
But I’m sure someone will give him a ride, if it comes to that. Uncle William would do him the favor.”
“Good, then it is settled. We ride to Burnham after we tour the dairy.”
He saw the brightness in Tulip’s eyes and her satisfied smile. Indeed, the smile never left her face the entire while they toured the dairy and visited the cow pens.
Alex even tried milking a cow.
Tulip took a turn, as well, and was obviously experienced because every drop she squeezed went straight into her bucket, while he got more milk on his boots than in his bucket when he’d taken his turn.