According to the Plough Inn's innkeeper, a stranger had arrived a few days earlier in the village of Sutton Grange. He told Orlando he'd find the man at Sutton Hall, so that's where he headed. The manor house was situated amidst wide green fields a mile from the village. The house itself was much grander than Stoneleigh with wide wings and dozens of chimney pots reaching like fingers into the sky. It was also in better repair. It looked fresh and new, a virgin compared to an old hag.
He avoided the house itself and sought out the stables where he found a scrawny lad leaning on his broom handle, gazing across the countryside.
"Lo," Orlando hailed him.
The lad almost fell over in his haste to get back to work mucking out the first stall.
"Don't mind me," Orlando said. "Keep doing what you were doing. I just want to know if the land steward's here."
"No," the groom said. "He's ridden out with the master."
Good. Orlando didn't want to happen upon either of them or any servant of authority. The person he really wanted to speak to was right in front of him. A stable boy. A maid would have been better—more prone to gossip, and they responded well to his questioning techniques—but the chances of getting inside and not raising suspicions were nil.
"Maybe you can help me," Orlando said, patting the nose of an inquisitive horse over one of the low stall doors. There were seven stalls, all but three of them occupied. The stables were clean and the smell of leather hung in the air so either the lad didn't day dream all of the time or he had help. "I'm the gardener over at Stoneleigh. Lady Lynden needs some timber for building, and I thought a place like this one would have some to spare. Can you help her?"
The lad's mouth twisted as he leaned on the broom again. He was about sixteen and wore ill-fitting and faded livery. "There might be some left over from the second barn. It was built last spring after your mistress sold her inheritance back to my master."
"She sold her widow's rights to him?"
"Aye, in a manner." The lad gave a sigh of strained patience. "I don't know if it was all official, but they made some sort of agreement where Lord Lynden bought her inheritance back. She needed the money to fix up Stoneleigh, see. It was in a right bad state a year ago with half the roof gone."
That explained a lot. Orlando had wondered why Farley and Susanna were so poor. As a widow, she was entitled to a portion of the income generated from her late husband's lands. By all accounts, Sutton Hall was a profitable estate. But if she had sold those rights back to Jeffrey and used the money to fix up Stoneleigh, then it was no wonder she had little left to pay for servants. A new roof alone would have cost a fortune.
"So there's timber left over from the barn?" Orlando asked.
"Aye, I think so. Umberly could tell you more when he gets back. That's the land steward. I'm sure my lord could come up with a fair price for your mistress to get it off his hands, them being related and all."
"The only fair price I can think of would be nothing. Their being related and all."
"Nothing?" The lad snorted and started sweeping again. "The master don't care for his relations that much."
Then Orlando would just have to find a way to make him care. It hadn't been his intention to ask about building materials for Susanna's orange tree shelter. It had simply been a good way to start a friendly conversation with the lad, but since Orlando would probably be around for a few more days, he might as well start building the structure. Just start it, mind, not go on with it. She would have to find someone else to do that job after he left.
If she lived.
His stomach clenched and the breath suddenly left his body. Hell. It was not the sort of reaction he should have when thinking about doing his job. Hughe would remove him immediately if he knew he had doubts about assassinating Susanna.
"He doesn't want to care for the widow of his cousin?" Orlando asked, laying a steadying hand on the stall door. "Just think, to have two husbands die in the same manner...very unfortunate." He shook his head, warming to his subject as he had done with the Stoneleigh servants the first time he'd met them.
The lad seemed intrigued too. He was leaning on his broom again, having accomplished little so far. The stable floor was as filthy as when Orlando entered it. "Never thought about it like that. I didn't know they died the same way. Did they?"
Orlando shrugged. If there weren't any rumors about it, he certainly didn't want to start any. The fact there were no rumors was what he wanted to establish. Milner from The Plough also hadn't mentioned the coincidence, and he seemed like a fellow who liked to gossip. So no one seemed to think Susanna guilty, yet someone had anonymously employed Hughe to assassinate her because she was a murderess. Interesting.
"Perhaps I'm mistaken," he said. "How did the previous Lord Lynden die?"
"His heart stopped, so they say."
"And how did they know his heart just stopped? Was someone with him at the time?"
"He was asleep. His man found him in bed the next morning. Sad business. He wasn't a bad master. Course, all the maids wept into their aprons for weeks after. The village girls too." He sniggered and gave Orlando a wink.
Orlando was an expert at schooling his reactions, but this time he had to call on all his experience and training. While it wasn't unusual for a man of Lynden's station to have mistresses, Orlando couldn't believe that someone married to Susanna would need to stray. Not only was she beautiful, but she was passionate too. He didn't need to bed her to know that, he could see it in the way she trembled at his touch, the way her face heated and her breath quickened.
Lord Phillip Lynden had been a bloody fool.
"Did his man tell you how he found him?" Orlando asked. "How he looked? Was there anything unusual about his skin or his eyes?"
"He was dead. Sounds unusual enough to me."
The conversation was going nowhere. If Orlando wanted to find out if the body showed signs of poisoning he would need to speak to the manservant himself, or someone else who studied the body.
"Was a coroner called?"
"Widow Dawson was sent for first. She's the village wise woman, and the parish pay her to look over the dead too. She said the coroner should be fetched on account of the master being young and strong. Took him three days to get here."
Orlando made to walk off but stopped at the entrance. "One more thing. Where can I find the stranger who arrived here three days ago?"