“Oh no, sir, he’s got eyes that see every sin a man’s ever committed.”
“I trust he won’t see you commit any sins.” Jason patted Dodger’s neck. He watched the lad give Dodger a carrot while he hummed at him in a lovely deep voice.
Lord Grimsby’s butler, a droopy-eyed old man who looked ready to sink to the floor in a stupor, looked Jason up and down and said in the booming young voice, “I don’t see why my master is so afraid of you, young man. I imagine you smile and the angels sing, but who cares? Ever since the Beckshire races, you’ve fair to made him gibber like that idiot peacock.”
“Perhaps you will soon gibber as well,” Jason said, and gave him a smile meant to intimidate, which only made the old man say, “You’re right handsome, sir, too handsome, my master says. Lady Grimsby says his jealousy is pathetic.” He paused, cocked his head a moment. “Yes, I hear angels singing right this moment. Follow me, young sir, and let’s see if his lordship will see you.”
Jason grinned at the back of the butler’s bald head as he followed him to the drawing room. He lightly touched his hand to the old man’s arm. “You needn’t announce me. Allow me the pleasure.” Jason tapped once on the closed door and walked in.
He hummed with pleasure at the sight of Charles Grandison and Elgin Sloane, both sprawled in chairs, listening to Lord Grimsby. All three here and accounted for. Since they’d gotten here quickly, it meant they were worried. When they turned toward him, their expressions were identical-boys caught stealing the vicar’s sacramental wine.
“Good morning, gentlemen. I am pleased Lord Grimsby got you here so very quickly.”
“Yes,” Lord Grimsby said, not rising from his chair. He looked wary and ill-tempered. Well, in all fairness, he had been two stable hands short for nearly a week.
“Let me say first of all, my lord, that Kindred is fine, at least for the moment.”
“Kindred did you say? I fired Kindred a number of months ago. I don’t know who he’s working for now. But not me. Now see here, Jason-”
Jason smiled. “Hello, Charles. Elgin. I can see that the three of you are very intent on some project.”
Charles said, “May I ask what your wife is doing to poor Kindred?”
“Preparing him for a long voyage to Botany Bay?”
“ Botany Bay! That’s bloody absurd.”
“Who cares,” Elgin said. “The silly blighter got himself caught.”
Charles Grandison said, “Don’t you think Botany Bay is a bit extreme, Jason?”
Jason merely smiled.
“You come here to threaten my former stable lad with deportation to Botany Bay? Good riddance to him. Kindred always was a troublemaker, that’s why I dismissed him. There’s nothing more to be said. You may leave us now.”
“Oh no.”
Lord Grimsby eyed him for a moment, then got control of himself. “What do you want, Jason? Why did you want to see all of us? It’s a damned impertinence, boy. Oliphant shouldn’t have let you in, damned mince-head.”
“I intimidated him, my lord.”
“That’s not possible. The old relic doesn’t see well enough anymore to be intimidated.”
Charles said, as he lazily flicked a bit of lint off his sleeve, “Surely, Jason, one doesn’t ship a man to Botany Bay because one believes he might have planned to shoot a gun at the racetrack. Everyone has discussed it, and all agree that the fellow who shot your jockey is the one you need to find, not this poor Kindred fellow.”
“Actually, I’m pleased to tell you that I have the man who actually shot my jockey.” He smiled at Lord Grimsby. “Potter sends his regards, my lord. He isn’t very happy at this point because Kindred told him what his punishment will be. According to my wife, it will take a good four hours to complete.”
“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.”