The horse startled, turned around. Fortunately, Ned had a good seat, and then, he felt something hit him in the back. He couldn’t discern what it was because Hippocrates had decided he wanted to return to the barn. Ned’s legs pressed his horse around, stopping him from bolting, even as another of her missiles hit his arm and broke into a wet, gooey mess.
Eggs? She was throwing eggs at him?
“What are you doing?” he shouted at her.
“Giving you back what you left behind.” This time the egg hit Hippocrates’s neck.
The gelding was not meant to be a war horse. He’d never learned how to stand his ground.
Realizing that he was losing the battle with his mount, Ned slid off before he was tossed off. Hippocrates didn’t wait but turned tail and went running for home.
Even then Mrs. Estep didn’t let up. She tossed two more eggs at him in quick succession. She’d moved closer and they hurt. She had a strong arm.
“Enough,” Ned ordered.
She picked up another egg, tossed it in the air, and deftly caught it in one hand. “Not even enough.” She threw the egg and it landed on one of his boots. The boots Royce had freshly polished. She’d aimed right for it.
By now they were gaining attention on the street.
Ned’s hat had been knocked off when he’d scrambled down from his horse. He ran an exasperated hand through his hair and said, “Mrs. Estep, stop this.”
“How dare you,” was her answer. She picked up another egg.
He held out his hand to ward her off. “Dare what? Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, you know. You know exactly what you did.” She started to pull her arm back.
“I don’t have a clue what you are talking about.”
Her arm came down. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe any of you. However, this was petty. Childish even. I will never let one of you through The Garland’s door. Not while it is in my name.” She threw her egg.
Ned managed to duck from this one and then he rushed her. She’d grabbed another egg and let down her skirts, so this had to be her last one.
Before she could let it fly at him, he reached for her arms and captured her by the wrists. She struggled against him, an angry wasp of a woman. His boots protected him from her kicks but he had to jump from side to side from her knee.
“Stop this,” he ordered.
Of course, she didn’t listen.
“What is this about?”
That caught her attention. She pulled back. “Oh, you know.”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to know. They wouldn’t have done it without your permission. What infuriates me is that it is so spiteful. Especially after I was attacked the other night and you knew about it. I can’t believe you put them up to this.”
“Put them up to what?”
Her answer was to glower mightily at him.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said. Her eyes narrowed as if she was measuring the truth of his words. “I don’t.”
“Someone, or someones, entered The Garland last night and filled it with chickens.”
Ned didn’t believe he’d heard her correctly. “Chickens?”
“Yes, chickens. Over a dozen of them. And a rooster.”
“Someone gave you chickens?” he repeated, trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“They didn’t give them to me. They turned them loose inside the building. The place is a mess. All my hard work is for naught. And I think we know who would play such a mean prank.”
“Who?” Ned was baffled.
“You and your Society.” She bit the words out. And then, taking advantage of his loosened grip on her wrists, she slammed her last egg into his chest.
Ned released his hold, feeling the crunch and the slimy wetness through his shirt. “Why did you do that?”
“Because it pleased me.” She turned on her heel and went walking to The Garland with her head high.
Close at hand, a woman said, “Oh, dear.” Ned looked up and was shocked to see how many villagers stood on the street gaping at him. But he wasn’t going to let an audience stop him. Mrs. Estep’s behavior was outrageous and she needed to answer for it.
He went after her. He scattered a little gathering of chickens and caught her just as she was entering the front door. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“See for yourself.” She pushed open the door, and his jaw dropped in surprise.
Chicken droppings were all over the place. He frowned, trying to make sense of it.
“I woke this morning to have chickens in my kitchen and in the main room. Someone came in while I was alone and asleep. And it will not happen anymore, do you understand me, sir? I will not stand for it.”
“Nor should you,” he agreed swiftly.
Winderton had to be behind this. Winderton, who challenged Ned on everything and who was destroying the reputation of the Logical Men’s Society. When word of this reached the matrons their gossip would set a bonfire in the village.
Ned’s own temper ignited. “Come with me,” he said, taking Mrs. Estep by the elbow and directing her out onto the street.
She tried to balk, but now he was in charge. “Where are we going?” she demanded.
Ignoring the curious stares following them, he said, “I’m going to settle this matter once and for all. He will not take over my village.”
“He who?”
“The Duke of Winderton.”
“You are saying he is behind this?”
“I’m certain of it. However, let’s find out.”
She cast him a speculative look but matched him step for step.
Fortunately, Hippocrates had not made it all the way home. He had stopped to nibble the grass growing in the churchyard. The reins were still around his neck. Ned was lucky they hadn’t been broken. He mounted and then offered a hand to Mrs. Estep. “Come along.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’m going to talk to Winderton and I want you there when I do.”
“Why?”
“Will you believe my denial that I had anything to do with this without hearing for yourself?”
Her response was to give him her hand. He lifted her onto the saddle in front of him. Together they rode to the Dower House on the Winderton estate.
Of course, everything was quiet. The hour was too early in the morning for the likes of the duke to be up.
Ned’s suspicions were solidified when they approached the house and found Mark Dawson and Shielding fast asleep on the front step, leaning against each other. It was as if they had started home and just hadn’t made it very far. Sir Lionel’s sedan chair was under a tree. One of the runners was asleep in it. Ned wondered where the rest of the Society members were.
As if in answer, he heard a hacking sound, then the loud noise of a piss that seemed to go on forever. Finally, when he was done, Sweeney came stumbling from around the side of the house, buttoning his breeches.
This was not how the gentlemen of the Logical Men’s Society were to comport themselves; another crime he laid at the duke’s door.
Sweeney squinted toward them. “Thurlowe? You are here? Who do you have with you?” He scratched his privates and Mrs. Estep ducked her head as if to hide a laugh or her embarrassment. He didn’t blame her either way.