And so they’d headed out, Serena and Oliver on their new mounts, followed by the nine young dogs they had found living in the stables on their arrival. The stable master, Horrocks, had told them Oliver was welcome to them—if he would train them. The dogs had gone from a half-mad hoard to reasonably obedient companions over the past five weeks and she was proud of her son. So when he’d asked this morning if he might bring them along, she had assented.

“You may take the dogs today, Oliver. But I want you to take them for a run and exhaust some of their enthusiasm before you come to watch the workers.”

Her son nodded, but she could tell his head was elsewhere—flying across the hillside on his new steed, which he had immediately named Starling because of his unusual mottled coat.

Her own horse, a pretty chestnut mare with a sweet disposition, suited Serena’s abilities to the ground. She must thank Jessup, who had apparently paid close attention to both her and Oliver to be able to make such a report.

Her son’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Mama?” Oliver was twisted sideways in his saddle, looking at her with a mournful expression.

Serena laughed. “Go on, already, and ride. But be careful.” He was gone before the second word left her mouth, his pack of hounds like a noisy tail to his comet. She had ceased worrying about his horsemanship several years ago, when she learned he raced the countryside unattended by adults with his herd of cousins.

It took her only a few minutes on horseback to reach the worksite. At first she’d thought not to need a horse, but after two weeks of making five or more trips a day, she’d realized that was foolish—and not efficient.

She saw Mr. Lockheart’s horse before she saw him—that was because he had taken off his coat and was down in a ditch, using a stick to draw something for a group of men standing about watching.

She dismounted and left her horse beside his. He looked up as she approached.

“I hope you don’t mind, Mrs. Lombard, but I have taken the liberty of showing the men how they might save part of this work and only re-dig a small section.”

“Of course I do not mind. I am only glad you came before we had positioned the entire berm.”

The foreman chuckled. “Aye, as much as we like the work, doing a job twice ain’t something to be wished for.”

Lockheart turned back to the drawing with his customary abruptness, not interested in banter. “The only problem I foresee with this new path is that boulder.”

“Aye, sir, that be why we thought to move the berm up here.” He looked at Serena, “Yon gent that walked the land with Mrs. Lombard argued it made no matter.”

The foreman, Mr. Flowers, was right. She had drawn her initial plans very near to where Mr. Lockheart was moving the berm. She was pleased that Flowers, a stout Kentish gentleman who worked with his group of laborers more than merely overseeing them, had pointed this out to their employer. Serena had earned his respect in the weeks since coming to begin the job and they had an excellent understanding and working relationship. And now, she realized, she had earned his loyalty, as well.