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perusal, with an ironic deference which almost provoked a total falling-out.
    So far, even the Viscount could find no fault with his work, though he fought every suggestion for change that his son made. One notable exception to this was Linc’s plan to restore Farthingscourt Mill to working order. It was his aim to utilise the old building for its original purpose, that of milling grain from the estate’s organic farms, and then to sell the resulting flour under their own label.
    He’d expected to have to fight for his idea but surprisingly his father had been quite prepared to listen; in fact, he’d yielded so swiftly that Linc suspected he was being given rope with which to hang himself. If he hadn’t been completely confident in his research this prospect might have unnerved him but he’d been working on the idea for some time and was convinced of its viability. Agrant had been secured and work was already under way.
    Management experience wasn’t all Linc had brought back with him to Farthingscourt. On one of his fleeting trips home he had also brought his girlfriend of the time, Nikki, and when he finally succeeded in detaching himself from her overeager clutches two or three months later, she had returned of her own accord, unbeknownst to him, and struck up a relationship with Crispin. A year before Linc came back for good, he was best man at his little brother’s wedding. To his relief, and in spite of his private misgivings, the union seemed to have been an unmitigated success.
    Traffic around Salisbury brought him back abruptly to the present and he looked at his watch. Forty minutes to go. With a wary eye open for lurking traffic police, he made a reassuring call to Nina Barclay on his mobile and, twenty minutes later, arrived at the venue in person.
    One-day events differ from their three-day cousins in more ways than the obvious; one of the main ones being that the cross-country phase often comes last, after the showjumping, instead of halfway through the competition, and another being that the horses are not asked to complete a steeplechase course or miles of roads and tracks before tackling the jumps across country. The aim of both competitions is to find the horse and rider combination which is truly versatile. A bit like a human decathlon event, contestants are tested on their suppleness, speed and endurance, obedience and accuracy. What is also tested, in consequence, is their temperament. Afaint heart or lack of mental stamina will be laid bare as surely as any deficiency in the physical department.
    Hobo’s Dream at home had not inspired Linc with any great excitement but he was clearly a horse who came alive on the big day. At eight years old he was just beginning his third year in horse trials and was on the brink of grading up to intermediate. When Nina Barclay’s groom led the brown gelding across to meet him, Linc could see that he was fit and raring to go.
    â€˜He’s warmed up nicely. You just need to hop up and get the feel of him before we head for the arena.’ Nina was walking beside Linc, dark-haired and fortyish with a lean angular figure that would probably stay the same into her seventies and beyond.
    â€˜Yes, I’m sorry I’m so late. You must be cursing me!’
    Nina shook her head. ‘Not at all, it’s not your fault. I’m just glad you could still ride him. How is poor Abby?’
    Ruth had promised to update him as and when there was any news, so he had to assume she was still unconscious. He explained to Nina as he mounted Hobo and let the stirrups down to a comfortable length.
    â€˜I can hardly believe it! Attacked in her own yard. You’re not safe anywhere these days, it seems, and they’ve lost all their tack, too.’
    â€˜Yeah. I said I’d look up Sandy Wilkes and see if he’ll bring some out to tide us over. Is he here today?’
    â€˜Third stall up, second row. Right next to