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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?”

“I myself didn’t realize how very fast he was, Elgin. I only won a couple hundred pounds, nothing really.”

Jason said, “Do I wish you well, Elgin? Will you be marrying Brutus’s mistress?”

“Yes. Thank God she isn’t like Hallie. She knows nothing about horses and would be disgusted were she to have to witness a mating. She knows when to yell her head off at the races and that’s enough for any woman. Her father doesn’t know much more, except biting. He enjoys seeing his horses bite the competition.”

“Then you’ll have a free hand,” Jason said. He walked to the fireplace to lean against the mantel, arms folded over his chest. “Charles, do you recall telling me that no one tried to shoot either your jockeys or horses because the consequences were so painful?”

Charles Grandison nodded.

“Hallie and I agreed that we would outdo you if anyone had the nerve to try to cause us harm. I am here to tell Lord Grimsby of his punishment.”

“Now, see here-”

“My lord,” Charles said in a sigh, stretching his long legs out in front of him, “did I not tell you not to try your skullduggery on Jason? Did I not tell you that he was a serious man? Look at what he did to my jockey for a small jostle during the race.”

“Yes, but he knows nothing about racing, nothing at all! He raced in America, the former Colonies, for God’s sake. There is nothing there, nothing remarkable, including horses or jockeys.”

“Actually, the Americans have skullduggery down to a fine art. I hated it there as well.”

“You won the damned race, Jason. You said you were going to announce my punishment? You young pup, your father won’t allow you to do anything to me, why I’ve known him and your mother since before you and your twin were born.”

“That’s a very long time, my lord,” Jason said, and shook his head. “That’s why I am surprised you would be so stupid. Can you imagine my father ever allowing anyone to harm someone close to him?”

“Your father understands racing, understands the risks, the challenges, the little eccentricities. Another thing, you are not your father. All know never to cross him, or there’s hell to pay.”

“You’re right, I am not my father. Actually, both James and I are much meaner. Now, I have weighed both Kindred’s and Potter’s guilt in this matter. I’m not sending them to Botany Bay. My wife has devised a much more effective punishment. You will see two very chastened men when they return here. I imagine news of their punishment will spread. Everyone will hear about it. It will be more and more difficult for owners to find minions to do their mischief. As for you, sir, as I’ve said, I’ve decided upon your punishment.”

“Impudent puppy!”

“You won’t race for a full year, indeed, not until the Beckshire race next August.”

Lord Grimsby jumped to his feet, his face crimson, shaking his fist in Jason’s face. “You can’t give me orders like that, you young bastard! I won’t stand for it. Get out of my house!”