"Only since last night." The major turned toward her, keeping his neck stiff. "The lad fed him in the evening and found the fence broke right through when he went out at dawn. Davenport's put out several of his men to search. He's a little apprehen sive, since he had an inquiry from some low fellow the other day to purchase the animal. He turned it down f lat, of course, but the man was offering an enormous sum."

"A low fellow?" Callie frowned. "What sort of fellow?"

Major Sturgeon cleared his throat. "I don't know if you are aware, Lady Callista, of the men they call sharpers. The colonel is slightly concerned, since he's had word that some celebrated fighting dog has come into the county in the past week. It's unlikely, of course, but with the sort of sum the fellow claimed to be offering, undoubtedly he had some idea of arranging a match for the betting crowd."

"A match?" Callie exclaimed. "Dear God, do you mean a baiting?"

"Nothing of the sort," the new earl cried. "Nonsense! Davenport's the magistrate; he won't allow any of that sort of thing hereabouts. Calm yourself, my dear. Oh please, don't look so frightened!"

"I am frightened!" Callie started for the door. "We must discover him. John, never mind that." She passed the footman carrying a tray of coffee. "Leave it here; my horse is to be readied instantly. I'll be down in five minutes."

"You're going to search, my lady?" Major Sturgeon was a step behind her. "May I have the honor of aiding you?"

"Yes, yes, of course," she said distractedly. "The more eyes the better. Are you mounted?"

"The groom is walking my horse."

"I hope it doesn't throw you again," she said. "If it does, I must leave you. We've lost hours already."

"You may abandon me bleeding on the road," he said. "I can see that this bull is of the foremost importance."

"He's my finest calf!" she said, leaving him in the corridor as she mounted the stairs. "And my best friend too. I should never have let him be taken off, never! Stupid wagers. Stupid gentlemen!" She hiked her skirt and pounded up the steps, wrinkling her nose. "I detest the whole lot of you!"

Nine

Nine

"A NEAT BANDAGE, SIR," JOCK SAID, GLANCING DOWN AT Trev's swollen fingertips. "Poleaxed him, I'll wager?"

"Went down like a dead tree." Trev leaned behind the door of the small stable at Dove House, brushing straw off his coat. "How is my mother?"

"Asking for you this morning," Jock said. "I said you was sleepin' late, havin' been out all hours conducting yourself ungentlemanly. Made her laugh. She wouldn't be bled, 'less you approved it."

Trev wiped his good hand over his face, trying to order his thoughts in the aftermath of too much ale and too little sleep. "Well, I don't approve it. Why put her through that, if there's no hope?"