CHAPTER FOUR
“Lord Julian, does one ask on what basis you are honored to escort Miss West to her bedroom door?”
Lord Pierpont in all his Byronic splendor leavened his question with a smile that put me in mind of the lizards so ubiquitous in Spain. He’d fallen in step with me as I’d proceeded to my quarters, suggesting his lordship had been lurking in an alcove.
“The lady and I are engaged to be married. I’m sure you will congratulate me on my good fortune.”
He frowned. “Does Wickley know she’s spoken for? How about we don’t tell him? Let him make a cake of himself, as he is always wont to do.”
And thus inflict on Hyperia insincere attentions from a strutting ass. How gentlemanly. “Miss West discloses our situation to whomever she pleases. We’ll set a date when His Grace of Waltham returns from the Continent.”
Pierpont tossed his head, which made the curl in the center of his brow flop. “Ah. You’re here for a bit of pre-marital mischief with your intended, then? I was hoping I could prevail on you for some snoopery.”
I was tired. I was concerned for Hyperia. I was concerned for Tenneby’s race meeting, which had nearly seen its first brawl even before all the guests had assembled. I was worried about Atticus and his recent passion for becoming a jockey prodigy, and my patience for popinjays was at low ebb.
I took a leaf from my ducal brother’s book. “Pierpont, my memory is dodgy at times, so please remind me: Have we been introduced?”
He chortled merrily. “Upon my word, Caldicott, one would never expect you to be a high stickler. We gentlemen of the turf are egalitarian sorts. But very well. Lord Pierpont Chandler at your service, charmed and delighted, and best wishes on your engagement to Miss West.” He bowed, twirling his wrist elaborately. “Now you.”
“Lord Julian Caldicott, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Though I wasn’t pleased at all, and by rights a third party known to us both should have made the introductions.
“You foiled Wickedly’s little scheme, I’m told. He fancies himself a creature of bold initiatives—wicked smart, to hear him tell it. Trying to swap out mares in broad daylight is exactly his style, as is making a complete hash of the business. I would have thought Paddy Denton above such nonsense, but the fellow must eat, I suppose.”
“Nobody was trying to swap out mares, my lord. Your informant was in error. If you don’t mind, I’ll bid you good night. The day has been long.”
“Surely you don’t mean to turn in now, Caldicott? It’s not even midnight. I am genuinely shocked that a fellow who can’t be that much older than I am is seeking his bed at such an hour.”
I was centuries his elder in experience. “I am genuinely tired and committed to an early morning hack. If you will excuse me?”
“Ah, I understand. He who goes to bed early doesn’t necessarily stay in that bed or occupy it alone. Am I right?”
My fatigue resulted in the sort of slow-wittedness that could do double service as forbearance. This courtesy twit had just insulted both me and my intended . Again .
“You are foxed,” I said, doing my best to imitate Arthur’s ducal froideur. “One does not take offense at the maunderings of an inebriate. Good night, my lord.” I put my fingers on my door latch only to find that Pierpont had put his paw on my arm.
Not done. Such presumption was the outside of too much. My adventures in captivity had left me particularly ill-disposed toward the casual touch of strangers.
Pierpont withdrew his hand when I stared at him.
“Now, Caldicott, don’t be like that. You’re new to race meetings, I take it. We don’t stand on ceremony—well, not much, especially at the private meets. I mean you no disrespect. In fact, I’m favoring you with a small, confidential request.”
No request from Pierpont was any sort of favor to me.
I opened my sitting room door and gestured Pierpont through. “Be brief.” I closed the door behind him, relieved to note that somebody had built up the fire. I took a taper from the spill-jar and lit a few candles, the better to watch Pierpont as he unburdened himself.
“It’s like this, Caldicott. Horse races are supposed to be a test of the skill of the jockeys and speed of the horses.”
“Are they truly? One had no idea.” I blew out the taper and tossed it on the fire. “Do go on.”
“Sometimes other factors are brought to bear.”
If this was Pierpont bent on brevity, heaven spare me from his loquacious moods. “Like horse-swapping, nobbling the competition, getting a jockey too drunk to remain upright. Those sorts of factors.” I’d also heard of kidnapping jockeys, tampering with jumps on steeplechase courses, and drugging horses with a dose of somnifera.
“How do you know of these tactics? I’ve never seen you at a meet. Lord Harry took an interest for a time, but you were described as the bookish brother.”
“Cavalry officers are full of stories, and I heard them all.” I’d also seen a few impromptu race meets in Spain. Over short distances, the Iberian steed could almost always best his English Thoroughbred cousin. Over distances of several miles, the conditioned Thoroughbred could maintain a faster pace. Somebody somewhere was doubtless crossing the two strains in hopes of getting both more speed and more stamina in the resulting equine.
“Well, I’ve heard a few stories about you too, Caldicott. Tenneby might think you’re here to court your sweetheart, but I’d like you to keep an eye on the larger picture.”
Matthew 6:24. No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.
“I am no longer a reconnaissance officer, Pierpont, and Tenneby is hosting a race meet, not a war.”
“He’s hosting both, does he but know it. You saw Lord Wickedly’s opening salvo this afternoon, and you will notice, though he was present at the stable at the time, he left Denton to manage the situation unaided. He was lurking , letting his minions carry out his plan.”
“And you know this because…?” Pierpont had clearly been lurking as well. A pair of truant schoolboys, each trying to spy on the competition’s cricket practice.
“I make it a point to be kept well informed, and that’s where you come in. All I’m asking is that you keep an eye on Wickley. He knew I planned to attend this meet, and the next thing I hear, he’s cozened an invitation for himself. Newmarket is too crowded anymore. For young stock on a first outing, a venue like this is perfect, and my Minerva is a most promising prospect. Freya is coming along nicely as well, despite being a late foal. Wickley would never cheat outright—he is honorable, in his way—but he bears watching, my lord. You’ve seen that for yourself.”
“I have seen nothing of the sort, and I have little experience of racing, as you note. Tenneby doubtless has stewards arranged for the competition days, and you must apply to them with any concerns. Good night, Lord Pierpont.”
I opened the door to the corridor, letting in a rush of cooler air that made the candles flicker. Pierpont lingered by the hearth, treating me to what was doubtless supposed to be a brooding stare. He looked, in fact, like a second former winding up for a pout because Headmaster hadn’t liked his answer.
“You have a reputation, Caldicott. Nobody likes you, and they certainly don’t admire you, but they respect your abilities. You pay attention. You notice details. I am asking you to keep a keen eye on the proceedings, is all.”
He would not leave until I either tossed him out bodily or tossed him a crumb. “If I notice anything untoward, I will mention my concerns to Tenneby, who is the host and organizer for this affair.”
“Excellent.” He tossed his curl again. “And you’ll want to watch Tenneby’s sister while you’re on hand. Evelyn has her brother twisted around her finger, but she’s much given to stratagems and schemes, mark me on that. Fancies herself wearing the Wickley tiara, if you take my meaning.”
Oh, of course. No farce was complete without a scheming hoyden. “Good night, sir.”
“You needn’t be rude. I was just leaving.”
He sashayed out, doubtless off to gamble the night away in the library. I closed the door and wished I’d never left the Hall.
Well, not quite. I was delighted to be in Hyperia’s vicinity, and if I had to endure this silly race meeting to earn that boon, then endure it, I would.
* * *
Lord Wickley’s scent preceded him in the cool early morning mists. He reeked of cigars and the foul breath that resulted from hours spent consuming spirits. If he expected to surprise me by appearing at my elbow on the path to the stable, he was in for a disappointment. Then too, his tread was heavy, as if he preferred the earth to shake at his passing.
“A word to the wise, Caldicott.”
I kept walking. “Lord Wickley, good morning. If wisdom is the topic of the moment, then the goddess Athena herself would suggest you have a good soaking bath before joining polite company for breakfast. Chewing a bale or two of parsley wouldn’t go amiss either. Excellent for freshening the breath.”
“The ladies will have to titter along without me at breakfast, alas. Nothing like a night of cards to get a gathering off on the right foot. I won, of course.”
A gentleman did not boast of his good fortune. “Then somebody else lost and will be looking to get back his own.” Not Tenneby, I hoped. Cheating at cards was too easy, and if Wickley would attempt to switch horses, he’d certainly try his hand at manipulating a deck of cards.
If.
“I’m passing along a bit of advice by way of belated appreciation for your efforts yesterday afternoon. You meant no harm. You were simply trying to keep the lads focused on their work rather than distracted by some impromptu pugilism.”
“I’m told injured jockeys don’t ride as well, and Woglemuth could certainly have landed a few blows on your man Denton.”
“Paddy’s damned quick. He could have given a good account of himself, but that’s beside the point.”
The point was, I was looking forward to my ride with Hyperia, and I did not want Wickley imposing his pungent company on the lady for even a moment. If he had any pretensions to decorum, he wouldn’t want any woman to see him in his current condition either.
I stopped just short of the bend in the path that would have put the stable in sight. “I’m listening, Wickley, and an apology would suffice. ‘My lord, I was unpardonably arrogant. No insult intended.’ Then I say, ‘None taken.’ You offer your hand, we shake manfully, and you decamp to wash the stink of hedonism from your person. It isn’t complicated.” If fate were just, Wickley would fall asleep in the tub, take a chill, and come down with an ague.
I raised an eyebrow as I’d seen Arthur do on countless occasions, but the effect wasn’t immediate compliance with my wishes. Wickley instead looked both bewildered and frustrated.
“Well, all that aside,” he said, “I’m suggesting you keep your distance from Evelyn Tenneby. She’s a taking little thing, I grant you, but she has airs above her station, and compromising a ducal scion would fit with her plans marvelously.”
“Do you insult a lady, Wickley?” I kept the question casual. I wasn’t about to step onto the field of honor because Pierpont and Wickley were enamored of the same unlucky female.
“One cannot blame the women for scheming, can one? Their whole lives depend on their ability to please, tease, and wheedle—and drop the occasional foal, too, of course. I’m merely observing that unless you want Tenneby for an in-law, you will avoid shadowed alcoves and tipsy maidens.”
I made a pointed inspection of my pocket watch. “I am engaged to be married to a dear and delightful woman who has my entire loyalty, Wickley. Your warning isn’t needed.”
He absorbed this news while scratching the stubble on his chin. “Not Miss West? Please say she hasn’t broken my heart for all time by settling for the likes of you ?”
“A little brokenheartedness can have marvelous benefits, as can a hot bath. Good day, my lord.”
I sauntered off, but Wickley trotted to catch up with me. “Don’t tell Pierpoint-less that Miss West is spoken for. Let it be our little secret. She can tell him herself when she’s of a mind to.”
“I suspect he already knows, Wickley, and before you take up more of my time with your helpful advice—we won’t call it meddling—I will most assuredly be watching the proceedings on the racecourses with great interest. I have not been to an informal meet previously, and Healy West, my future brother-in-law, will have a runner among the colts. I’m keen to see how he fares and how this whole business goes forth. Are we finished now?”
Wickley slowed. “If you note anything of a puzzling nature, my lord, I am at your service to answer questions and offer explanations. I was practically brought up on the back of a Thoroughbred and am considered a skilled whip. In my earliest youth, I was quite the talented jockey, though alas, my aristocratic stature renders me uncompetitive against smaller men. You may bring all of your queries to me, and I will see you properly educated in the sport of kings.”
He bowed and took himself off in a cloud of malodorous self-importance.
Hyperia stepped around the bend in the path. “Good heavens. Lord Wickley positively reeks. What on earth was he about?”
Hyperia brought the scent of roses with her everywhere, and never had that aroma been more welcome. “I’m not sure what his aim was, to be honest. Pierpont and Wickley have both warned me to avoid Evelyn Tenneby, though the lady strikes me as pleasant company and in no hurry to marry. Both men have also asked me indirectly to monitor the race meet for potential wrongdoing.”
Hyperia linked her arm through mine and escorted me in the direction of the stable. “Then we are left to wonder: Was each man’s effusive request for your vigilance the first step in ensuring that you overlook him when the time comes to suspect somebody? Or are they both, like Tenneby, hoping that your presence will ensure unfailing good sportsmanship?”
“I never fancied myself as a governess to a lot of turf-mad coxcombs, Perry, but they will gamble fortunes on the outcome of a single match, and that recklessness has consequences.” Servants let go without severance, tradesmen bilked of their goods, creditors left with nothing when the debtor decamped for the Continent, as Beau Brummel himself had recently done.
His debts of honor were said to total in the hundreds of thousands of pounds.
“And to think,” Hyperia said quietly, “my own brother is enamored of this madness. You see why I had to attend?”
I did not see why she had to attend without telling me what she was about and without my company at her side. Raising those concerns would, however, disturb the goodwill with which we were beginning our day.
“Perry, if you want to tell Healy that I asked you to join me here, then I will support that notion. I would have asked, had I thought you’d find any enjoyment in the gathering at all.”
She hugged me there on the path, and my concern notched up toward alarm. What on earth was amiss with my darling that she did not believe she could enlist my aid or rely on my support?
“We know one thing,” Hyperia said, continuing on toward the stable as if throwing her arms around me was nothing out of the ordinary. “Tenneby, Pierpont, and Wickley have all tasked you with keeping the cheats and swindlers from ruining this meet.”
“The probability is thus very great,” I continued the syllogism, “that somebody has planned spectacularly bad behavior. Therefore, we’d both best keep a sharp lookout.”
“And a close eye on those three.”
“Might we also keep a close eye on each other?” I said in an effort to lighten the moment. “I’d like that very much.”
“You are trying to make me blush. For shame, Jules.”
Hyperia strode ahead, to where Atticus was hand-walking Atlas around the perimeter of the stable yard. She hugged my horse around his sturdy neck, then hugged the boy tightly, inspiring him to grin and blush, and inspiring me to fall in love with my intended all over again.