Lyon's Gate (Sherbrooke Brides 9)

“Potter? That nitwit? He knows nothing, Jason, nothing at all.”

“My men found him where Kindred said he’d be—at his brother’s cottage in Cranston, scared to his toes. He and Kindred both have told me of your instructions, my lord. At least you didn’t order them to kill any horse or jockey, merely disable the horse that looked like it would win, if, that is, any horse was ahead of Lamplighter.”

Charles roared to his feet and advanced on Lord Grimsby. “You would have had one of your villains shoot my Ganymede?”

“Don’t be absurd, Charles. Sit down. Jason is trying to set us against each other.”

Jason said, “Yes, Charles, if Ganymede had been the clear leader, why then, I fancy he or your jockey would have gotten a ball of lead in him.”

“No, that’s a lie. Elgin, tell him that’s a lie.”

“It’s a lie, Charles. If I were to believe the lie, why then, that would mean Brutus was also at risk. My uncle would never seek to harm a horse that belonged to my heiress.”

Jason said, “I fancy Lord Grimsby would shoot whatever needed shooting for Lamplighter to win. But, Charles, feel free to believe what you wish to believe.”

Lord Grimsby exploded, “Now, listen here, Jason. This is racing! All sorts of things are done in racing, a bit of mischief, a bit of pain, it’s simply part of the sport, it doesn’t alarm anyone, it adds excitement and suspense.”

Charles said, “Actually, it makes me rather rabid. You know my reputation, my lord. You surely wouldn’t be such a fool as to disregard the punishments I mete out if anyone, let me repeat, anyone tries to harm my horses.”

“Of course I do. I’m not a fool. That’s why this is all nonsense. Besides, you’re different, Charles, you take it all too seriously.”

Elgin said, “Will you punish Jason, Charles? After all, his jockey kicked yours off Ganymede.”

“That’s true enough, Charles, can I expect a visit from you?”

“No,” Charles said.

“Good, since your jockey started the whole business in the first place,” Jason said. He turned back to Lord Grimsby. “My lord, what if one of the other owners had shot Lamplighter?”

“I’d kill the blighter.”

“Just so,” Charles said and took a sip of his tea.

“Dammit, boy, none of this makes any difference. Listen to me now. It was just a flesh wound, nothing of any importance at all. Dodger still managed to win the race, so what’s there to say?”

“You wish me to tell my jockey that the bullet wound in his arm added nothing more than some lovely color to his racing livery?”

“A tear through the flesh, nothing more,” Elgin Sloane said.

“Ah, Elgin, how did you know it was only a flesh wound?”

“Everyone from here to London knows about it. Mr. Blaystock was quite upset. He wished the bullet had been more true, that it had at least knocked your jockey off that damned Dodger, so that his Brutus would have then won.”

Charles tsked. “Ganymede would have won if Jason’s jockey hadn’t kicked my jockey off his back. No, Elgin, Brutus wouldn’t have won no matter how many horses’ rumps he’d managed to bite, an interesting ploy, I admit, but doesn’t Mr. Blaystock find it somewhat unpredictable?” He turned to Lord Grimsby. “I find myself wondering, sir, if your Lamplighter were to run a straight race if he would beat Ganymede. I tend to doubt it, though Lamplighter is a fine animal. Had there been a straight race between Ganymede and Dodger, I am sure in my own mind that Ganymede would have taken the prize.”

Jason said, “Dodger ran as straight a race as he could. It took Lorry time to kick back at your jockey, Charles. I wish it hadn’t been necessary, but you know it was. Listen to me, all of you. At the very least all these shenanigans distract the horses and the jockeys. I’ve always believed it would be better to let the horses run without interference.”

“That will never happen,” Lord Grimsby said. “Never in a thousand years. Jockeys like to use their whips, like to kick their opponents, like to squeeze in on a horse until he falls back. As for the horses, they’re devious, it’s bred into them. Mr. Blaystock told me Brutus was born to bite. Horses would be so bored if they didn’t fight that they wouldn’t run their best. They need distractions to keep them going.”

Jason said, “Dodger doesn’t need distractions, he doesn’t like them, nor do I.” He didn’t say that Eclipse, however, kicked up his back legs when he felt a horse getting too close, something he’d done naturally the first time he raced. “However, don’t you believe there must be a line drawn?”

Lord Grimsby shrugged. “It happens. It will always happen. If you’re serious about racing, Jason, you’ll accustom yourself to the way it’s done.”

Charles said, shaking his head, “Five hundred pounds, that is quite a purse Dodger took, Jason. I imagine you also bet a good amount for Dodger to win. I myself wagered a couple of pounds on him, the odds were so long. Do you mind if I ask what you won?”

“Ten thousand pounds or thereabouts. All my relatives did well too. I’ve also gotten notes of thanks from others who wagered on Dodger to win.”

“That’s not fair,” Elgin Sloane said bitterly. “No one told me how very fast Dodger was, how well trained. Damnation, you have a female for a partner. Who would believe you would know what you’re doing? It’s simply not fair. At least there won’t be long odds again. Why didn’t you tell me, Charles?”