James took it. Her palm was rough from years of labor, her grip steady and unhesitating. He released her hand before the moment could become awkward. "Thank you."
She stepped toward the gate, then paused. "There is one more thing."
James looked up. "What is it?"
Emma glanced back toward the stable, where Storm stood quietly behind his half-open door. "If he was comfortable under that saddle when your brother owned him, something must have changed afterward. I think we ought to discover when."
James looked toward the darkened passage. For the first time since Henry's death, the question felt less like an accusation against the past than a responsibility belonging to the present.
"Then we shall begin with the records," he said.
Inside the stable office, Captain Vale had already opened the cabinet where the training books were kept, and he was turning the pages of Storm's record with trembling hands.
Captain Vale stopped turning the pages when he heard footsteps outside the stable office. He closed the training book, returned it to the cabinet, and slipped the key into his waistcoat pocket. By the time James entered, accompanied by Thomas Reed, the captain was examining a list of feed deliveries.
"The records concerning Storm," James said. "I should like to review them tomorrow."
Vale looked up. "Certainly, Your Grace. Though I doubt they will tell us anything a proper trainer does not already know."
"Then they should make for reassuring reading." James held out his hand. After a brief hesitation, Vale surrendered the cabinet key.
The following morning, Emma arrived at Ashford shortly after finishing the forge's first orders. Her father, Samuel Carter, had agreed that she could spend three afternoons each week assisting with Storm, provided the arrangement did not interfere with their regular customers. James had accepted the terms and arranged payment through the estate office.
She found him standing outside Storm's stall, his dark riding coat unbuttoned and his attention fixed upon the horse.
"Good morning, Your Grace."
"Miss Carter." He stepped aside. "Mr. Bell's instructions have been followed: no saddle, no riding, and no pressure upon his back."
Emma examined the clean bedding and fresh water. Storm stood quietly, watching Thomas measure his feed.
"How was he overnight?" she asked.
"Restless at first," Thomas replied. "Settled after midnight. He's eating well enough."
Emma nodded. "That's encouraging."