"Not that I saw, Miss."
"Thank you."
James turned toward Vale. "Until Mr. Bell has examined Storm and the saddle, all riding demonstrations involving him are suspended."
"The gentlemen will expect an explanation."
"Then tell them I have chosen not to risk another injury for their amusement."
Vale stiffened. "And my responsibilities?"
"You will continue your ordinary duties with the other horses. Thomas will oversee Storm's immediate care."
The captain inclined his head, but the movement carried little obedience. When he departed, James noticed Peter release a breath he had evidently been holding.
"Return to your work," James told him. "And if you see something wrong again, bring it to Mr. Reed or directly to me."
The boy hurried away.
James remained in the passage, staring at the marked cover. "My brother used to know every groom by name," he said at last.
Emma glanced toward him. "There are a great many people employed here."
"That is a poor excuse for forgetting they have voices."
She said nothing, and he found the silence less comfortable than criticism.
Mr. Bell arrived shortly after noon, summoned from a neighboring village. He examined Storm in the quiet stall with Thomas holding the halter. Emma stood outside the door while James watched from the passage. The veterinary surgeon ran his fingers carefully along the stallion's back, pausing when Storm tightened his muscles and moved away.
"There's tenderness here," he observed. "And some irritation where the saddle has rested. I cannot yet say how much discomfort is involved, but I would not permit anyone to ride him."
James nodded. "How long must he rest?"
"That will depend upon his progress. We shall examine the saddle separately, avoid pressure upon his back, and assess him again after the irritation has settled."
Emma looked relieved that no one had attempted to force a diagnosis from a single examination. Mr. Bell turned toward her.
"You noticed his reaction to the girth?"