Samuel studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Your work has always been welcome here."
The simple words nearly undid her.
Meanwhile, James returned to the stable office and found the observation book lying on the desk. Thomas stood beside it.
"Miss Carter has gone home, Your Grace."
"Her hours were finished?"
"No, sir." Thomas hesitated. "Captain Vale spoke about her before the visiting gentlemen. He suggested her concern for Storm was merely a means of gaining your favor."
James's face hardened. "Where is Vale?"
"In the carriage yard, preparing to leave for the afternoon."
James moved toward the door, then stopped. "What did Miss Carter say?"
Thomas repeated what he had heard, carefully distinguishing her words from his own impressions. James listened without interruption. When Thomas finished, he looked down at the book. Emma's last entry described Storm's improving appetite and continued sensitivity; there was no anger in the handwriting, no accusation, only the patient attention she had given the animal from the beginning.
"Ask Peter to meet me here," James said. "And bring the earlier training records. I want every report concerning Storm's back set out in order."
Thomas departed. James remained beside the desk, remembering Emma's hand in his and the way she had spoken of her mother beside the village wall. He had invited her into his establishment, promised that her judgment would be respected, and left her exposed to precisely the contempt she had warned him against.
He opened the observation book again. Between its pages lay a small folded note addressed to him. The handwriting was unmistakably hers. James unfolded it, and the first sentence made his breath catch:
I am not leaving because I doubt you care for me, James.
James held the note closer to the window, where the afternoon light fell across Emma's careful handwriting:
I am leaving because I cannot work where my honesty becomes an accusation and my friendship with you becomes a weapon. Storm still needs care, and Mr. Reed has everything he requires. Please do not mistake my departure for indifference. I have come to care more than is wise, but I must be able to respect myself when I look in the mirror.
James lowered the paper. He had spent two years guarding everything Henry left behind, yet he had nearly lost the first person who made him want to look toward the future.
Footsteps approached. Thomas entered with Peter, who carried the earlier training book.
"You wish to see us, Your Grace?"