Things missing

*Zac*
“My lord”

I glance up to see Spencer standing there. The doors in this residence are so well oiled that I seldom hear them opening and closing. Spencer seems to glide around the manor without his feet ever touching the floor. His quietness is unnatural. “Spencer.”

“I hate to disturb you, sir.”

“Then don’t.” I am weary of seeing sheep in the fields. I want horses. Good, strong horses for the regiments. Talks are under way to end this damned slaughter going on in the East, but there will always be wars, and soldiers need dependable mounts. I have argued about it with Draco. “No need to change from what works,” Draco says.

No need to have my brother sitting on his arse all day looking over ledgers.

I want to map out a strategy that shows my plan can work. I have sold my commission. I have a good portion of the salary the army paid me. It’s a start, but I will still need to borrow some money in order to purchase my own land, my own place, my own horses. Make a go of it.

I remember what the military taught me until that afternoon I had tea with Djuna. But what have I learned in battle? What have I learned during the campaign? If only I had that knowledge, then maybe I could be of some use, could remain a military man. But it’s gone.

Horses, though, I have always known horses. I can do something with those.

I glance back up. Spencer is still there. “So although you hate to disturb me, you’re going to do it all the same. What the devil is it?”

“The silver, sir. Some of it has gone missing.”

“That’s a household matter. Discuss it with Lady Dragan.”

“I have, sir. She is of the opinion that the information I have catalogued in ledgers is incorrect or that items have simply been misplaced.”

“If that is her opinion, then it must be so.” I return to scrawling out my ideas. Horses, workers, trainers. With impatience, I look at Spencer.

The man, slender as a reed, with a face dominated by a large, blade-like nose, is staring at a spot somewhere over my head. His lips are pursed, his posture so stiff that he may as well be laid out in a coffin.

“Spit it out, Spencer.”

“With all due respect, Sir Zac, I believe Lady Dragan is the culprit.”

Everything within me stills, and a rash of fury shoots through me. “You are accusing my mate of thievery?”

“I fear so, sir, yes.”

“She cannot steal what belongs to her.”

“With all due respect, sir, it belongs to the... Prince.”

“Think very carefully before you speak. Why do you think it is her?”

He straightens a little more, “I can vouch for all the servants. Their loyalty. Their honesty. The newest member of the staff has still been here for three years. Nothing has gone missing until... very recently.”

I lean back, seething with anger that I’m not quite sure where to place. Through a hole in the wall perhaps. With my fist. Or perhaps against Spencer’s nose. “Perhaps the nurse, Jeanette, is the culprit."

Spencer clears his throat, blushes, studies the rug beneath his feet. Finally, he looks up and draws back his shoulders. “I know Miss Jeanette extremely well… extremely well if you catch my meaning… and I know it is not she.”

“And I know my mate extremely well, and it is not her. Even hint at so ludicrous a claim again and you will be sacked.” I warn.

He nods, “Yes, sir. Understood. What shall I do about the missing silver?"

I shrug. “Find it. Replace it. I don’t care.”

“Very good, sir.”

He retreats on those damned silent, irritating feet. I toss my pen aside, pushing the papers beyond reach. It’s not Calliope. I know that, but my brother has entrusted all of his damned possessions to me.

Shoving my chair back, I stand and head in search of my mate. All of Draco’s ancestors glare down on me. Perhaps I should ask Morton to loan me a portrait of our father. Something to make the residence a little more mine. I suppose I could get one of my mother from Leo; the man has painted an ungodly number. I’m surprised how different each one looks, as though the artist sees a different facet of the Princess each time he paints her.

Taking the steps two at a time, I go upstairs to the nursery. Calliope is sitting on the floor. Not the ideal place for a lady, but it seems to suit the part of her that is a mother. She moves a wooden block just beyond John’s reach. The boy crawls to it on his belly, and just as he reaches for it, she places it a bit further beyond his grasp.

“Are you tormenting my son?” I ask.

Looking up, she smiles. “He’s learning to crawl. I’m simply encouraging him to try harder.”

The nurse is sitting in a chair, busy with a bit of needlework. “Jeanette, perhaps you should go have a spot of tea.”

“Yes, sir.” She pops up and hastily rushes out.

Calliope studies me questioningly. “Is something amiss?”

I sit on the floor, snatch up the block, and place it within Zane’s reach. The boy closes his pudgy fingers around it, then rolls over and begins to gnaw on it.

“Is he hungry?”

“No, he just likes to chew on things,” she tells me, but her voice is laced with wariness.

“Did you know that Jeanette and Spencer...?” I rub behind my ear.

She studies me for a moment, and then her eyes widen. “No. Is he courting her?”

“I don’t know how much courting is involved, but I suspect there’s a great deal of mischief.”

“Is that allowed between servants?” She asks.

“Probably not, but who are we to point fingers?”

Her cheeks flush red. “Quite right.”

I take her hand, turn it over, and trail my fingers over the rough spots that still remain, no doubt from all the scrubbing she’s done in the war. “Spencer thought I should know that some silver is missing.”

She purses her lips. “I told him not to bother you with it. I’ve never seen the pieces he is concerned about. They may have been gone forever. This house has so many useless items; it’s like a little shop of trinkets. So something went missing?”

“Something silver.”

“Do you think it important?”

I nod, “I think Draco will not be pleased to know things have gone missing.”

“What are we to do if they were gone before we even arrived?” She asks.

“Keep a closer watch on the servants, will you?”

“Yes, of course. Do you think everything in this house is catalogued?”

“Knowing Draco, probably. Although I’m sure there are a few things here and there that were overlooked. You are correct. There is an inordinate number of things to collect dust. He could probably let half his servants go if he’d get rid of some of this stuff.”

Suddenly, the block lands on my chin. “Oh, aren’t you a strong fellow! Wanting some attention, are you?”

I lift him up, holding him high, studying the features that I think resemble me not at all. Although he does have my smile. “I think his eyes are changing their shade.”

“No, I’m certain it's just the way the light is coming in through the windows.”

“Perhaps. I’m thinking of getting him a horse.”

She blinks, “Now?”

“Soon. A small one. A pony. When do you think he’ll be ready to ride?” I ask.

She laughs, and I so enjoy her laughter. “Not for a good long while yet.”

“What of his mother? Will she go for a ride with me?”

Her answer comes with an impish smile and a promise for flirtation once we are away from the residence. It amazes me that as much as we are together, I still anticipate each moment of being alone with her.