"Well, I—it did take me a moment to realize—but, I'm sure anyone who knew Hubert would see it quickly."

"How many in Hereford know him that well? He doesn't have any scars or nicks. It's not so easy to recognize an animal with no markings as one might suppose. I've seen enough dark horses to know, you may believe me."

She turned and gazed at Hubert, assessing his generous bulk and shaking her head. Trev could see that she was about to dispute him, when a faint cough from the door made them both look round quickly.

"Maman!" Trev exclaimed. "What are you doing down here?"

The duchesse leaned one white hand on the door jamb, peering into the kitchen. "No, I ask you!" she whispered. "What does this animal do here?" Her eyes danced. "You and Lady Callista… have a scheme together, eh?"

"We're taking him out directly," Trev said. He moved toward the door, avoiding the smashed pie. "As soon as I help you back to bed."

"Oh no, do not suppose—" She coughed, clinging to the door. "You expect me to… be in bed… while all my house falls down!"

"Better that, than you fall down," he said, taking her arm.

"I will… sit up in the parlor," she said with dignity. Her voice strengthened. "I am much… better. We have a great deal to discuss, I think, Trevelyan."

"And where is that nurse?" Trev asked. He guided her away from the door, but she set herself against climbing the stairs.

"No. And no. I will… sit up," she said as firmly as her weak voice could manage. "And we will discuss, Trevelyan!"

"May I remove this bull from the premises first?" he asked courteously.

"You may," she said with a little smirk at him. "Only do not… destroy what Limoges ware I have left to me."

"I make no guarantee of that," Trev said, guiding her to a chair in the modest drawing room. "I can only hope he doesn't lodge at the turning and pull the whole place down around us."

Hubert proved himself a splendid gentleman, worthy of his exalted lineage and genteel upbringing, in his transit from the kitchen to the front door. Following Callie and a trail of carrots, he moved one ponderous step at time, his big head swaying gently under the replaced blindfold. There were a few breathless moments at the turning, in which his hip caught on the doorjamb and the ancient f loorboards squealed in protest at his weight, but a mighty shove against his rib cage by Trev, and Callie's encouraging voice, swayed him just enough. His hind foot found purchase on the top stone stair, and he pushed through.