The Incorrigible Mr. Lumley (29 page)

“It meant a lot to her that you were there.
I think that told her more about you than any prior act.”

“I hope so. Maybe when I return from Bibury
I’ll call on her. Start anew. Will she still be in London
then?”

“She and my mother will leave for Bath that
week, with Aunt Ophelia. You’d better speak to her before you leave
Town.”

David nodded. “I’ll do so. I’ve some calls
to make, so I’ll take my leave. If you need assistance finding men
to keep watch at the race meeting, send word here in Town, or at
the Shepherd’s Inn in Bibury.”

Taking his leave more briskly than was
warranted, David sought to reach his curricle before temptation won
out and he begged Starley to ask if Lady Joanna would see him. He
needed to give her time. He’d forgotten to ask if Northcotte had
told her she now owned Patriot. He doubted the man had said
anything, more likely leaving it for David to do. That gave him an
excuse to call before he left Town.

As he trotted down the front steps to the
street, David noticed a curricle parked nearby. He thought nothing
of it, until he noticed the furry white side-whiskers of the man at
the reins. Sir Frederick. Why hadn’t he gone when he was turned
away? David hesitated, the simmering heat of pent-up anger
threatening to surface, then turned toward his own vehicle.

“Lumley.”

He stopped. Slowly turned around. Gritted
his teeth and reminded himself he was on a public street in front
of his loved-one’s home. “Sir Frederick. May I be of
assistance?”

“You may keep your distance from Lady
Joanna. I highly recommend it.”

He could have recommended a wine for supper,
his tone was so even. David took a few steps closer. “You don’t
speak for her. Of that I’m certain.”

“She is confused by your flattery and pretty
face. She will come to her senses soon.”

David’s arms began to tremble. He flexed his
fingers. “Was she your intended target? You nearly killed her. How
will that convince her she wants you?”

Sir Frederick sat up stiffly. “I’ve no idea
what you’re speaking of. I would never harm her.”

Strolling closer, fighting the need to haul
the man out of his curricle and pound him into the street, David
kept his voice calm. “No, you told the old woman to give the cakes
to Northcotte’s groom. Why, because he’d paid his debt to you, and
you could no longer lay claim to Lady Joanna’s hand? But my lady
enjoys sweets, and the groom was more than happy to share.”

David gave the man credit, he didn’t flinch.
Sir Frederick could have been sitting in church on a Sunday
morning. “I know not what you are referring to.”

“Of course you don’t. Listen well. The lady
does not want you. You no longer have anything to hold over her
brother. Don’t trespass on their lives any longer.”

“You do not speak for them, Lumley.” Sir
Frederick’s calm broke and he shouted now. “You have no business
ordering me about. You’d best keep to your own concerns.”

The door to Northcotte’s town house opened
and Starley came down the stairs. “Is anything amiss, Mr.
Lumley?”

“No, Starley. Sir Frederick was just
leaving.”

“Very good, sir.” Starley remained where he
stood, watching Sir Frederick.

Without a word, Sir Frederick picked up his
reins and pulled away. David waited until he reached the end of the
block before moving. “You’ll inform Northcotte of this?”

“Of course, sir.”

As he’d told Northcotte he would do, David
called on Joanna before he left for Bibury. She had color in her
cheeks, finally, and the shadows beneath her eyes had faded. Her
smile seemed genuine when he took her hand and bowed. “Good
morning, my lady.”

“Good morning. Please take a seat.”

Nerves made it difficult to remain in one
place, but politeness forced him to control the anxiety. “Thank
you. I understand you will remove to Bath for the summer.”

“Yes, my aunt has extended an invitation to
Mother and me.”

“Hannah was disappointed you won’t be
visiting Bridgethorpe Manor, but I can understand your reluctance.
If it’s any comfort, I’ll be staying at Fernleigh in between race
meetings, as I usually do.” He told himself he wasn’t leading her
to talk about her feelings for him.

Her cheeks darkened. “I hope you don’t think
I was avoiding you.”

“I’m not sure what to think. You didn’t send
me away in Windsor, but you were so sick I cannot credit anything
that was said then.”

Her eyes widened. “Did I say something when
I was out of my head?”

“No, I’m taking hope in what was not said.”
He held up a hand when she opened her mouth. “I’m not here to press
my suit again, unless you wish it. I merely wanted to ask that I
may still call you my friend.”

“Yes, I would like that.”

“I am glad. Now, there’s one more thing I
must say before I go. I realize I’m not in the position to give you
a gift, but there’s something I purchased with you in mind.
Northcotte will confirm he has agreed to it. Patriot is now
yours.”

“He’s mine?”

“Yes. Your brother holds the signed
papers.”

“But how…? I don’t understand.”

“There is nothing to understand. I had it in
my power to give you the one thing I knew you treasure most of all.
I hope he brings you joy. And of course, wins.”

Her eyes were glassy as she stared at him.
“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, of course, but those words
are too weak to express what I feel.”

He rose, wishing to leave before she said
something she might regret. He would see her again, perhaps at a
race meeting, and he could discover if her feelings for him had
changed. But if he didn’t escape immediately, he would utter the
plea he so desperately needed to make.
Marry me
. “Enjoy your
visit to Bath, my lady.”

With a brief, formal bow, he left.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The weather at Bibury, in Gloucestershire,
was warm, and the stables were humid, their normal odors
overwhelming David as he stood in Triton’s stall. He wished they
could determine who was poisoning people and animals at the race
meetings, so he could once again enjoy the thrill of
competition.

He smiled wryly. He hadn’t fully enjoyed a
race meeting in recent years, not until Triton won. He scratched
his horse between the eyes. “You have done us proud, old boy. Let’s
do it again this afternoon, all right? Make this blasted heat worth
bearing.”

Pacing once more to the stall door, he
looked into the passageway. Men walked back and forth, owners and
grooms, judging by their clothes. Some entered stalls empty-handed,
or bearing a bridle, others just continued out of the building. No
one seemed out of place. He began to turn and pace back when
movement caught his eye.

A man of small stature with graying dark
hair exited a stall with a bucket in his hand. There was nothing
odd about that, but the hairs on the back of David’s neck rose
inexplicably. The man pulled a paper from his pocket, glanced at
it, and shoved it away again. He made his way down the row of
stalls, glancing in each, then entered one. A moment later, he
stepped out and headed for the building exit.

David coughed loudly to signal the others,
and followed.

The tack room door opened and Knightwick
came out. Sir Jasper appeared from another stall. David indicated
the groom with the bucket and they all began to run. Just as the
man reached the sunlight, David caught his arm and spun him
about.

“Stop! What’s this?” the man shouted.

“We’re wondering the same thing. Come with
us.” David jerked him back into the barn and dragged the struggling
man into the tack room. As he pushed the man into a corner, David
realized he was shoving a paper in his mouth. “No, you don’t!”

David grabbed the man’s jaw, prying his
mouth open, and stuck a finger inside. Just as he’d curled it
around the wadded paper, the man bit down. “Bollocks!”

Punching the groom with his free hand, David
shook his other one.

“Did you get it?” Sir Jasper asked, stepping
forward to hold the man by the sleeve.

“I did,” David answered. He spread the small
sheet and walked to the window. “It’s a list of horses. Miss
Bashful, Vulture, and Ploughboy. What were you doing to those
horses?”

“I ain’t did nuttin’,” the groom barked,
then spat on the ground.

“Where’s the bucket you had?” David
demanded.

Knightwick turned for the door. “I’ll go
look.”

A short time later, he returned. “There was
an extra bucket in Ploughboy’s stall. I brought them both to be
safe. I instructed Gilroy to replace the buckets in all three
stalls, and sent for the constable.”

Sir Jasper moved toward the doorway. “Is
someone watching that those buckets aren’t used by someone else? We
need to dispose of the water safely. What is the condition of the
three horses?”

Gilroy pointed to the buckets he’d set
against the wall. “Here’s the water, sir. The horses look well.
There was not time for them to have drunk much, but they’ll
probably need watching.”

“And should likely be scratched from their
races,” Knightwick added. “The constable will need to inform their
owners.”

David was too angry to wait on the
constable. If this man was behind Lady Joanna’s injury, or worked
for the person responsible, he should be forced to drink the brew
he’d been spreading. David fisted the front of the man’s shirt,
hauling him closer. Speaking in a low growl, he demanded, “Who
ordered this?”

“Ordered what? I was watering the horses.
How do you know it ain’t my job?”

“Those horses already had water.”

“Maybe they was wantin’ more. It’s a hot
day.”

Knightwick placed a hand on David’s arm.
“Leave it for the constable.”

With one last shove, David released the
groom. “He has to talk. We need to resolve this. Joanna needs her
life back.”

“Her life? Or is it yours that’s bound in
place by this?”

It was true. David couldn’t stop worrying
about Joanna until he knew why someone was doing this. He couldn’t
focus on his own life, couldn’t relax and enjoy the race meetings,
knowing they were all at risk by attending. It was beyond a
distraction now. He genuinely feared for his family, the men who
worked for him.

Time froze until a man finally called out
from the stable entry. “Who called the watch?”

“Here. We’re holding the man in here,”
Knightwick said. He introduced himself, Sir Jasper and his
brother.

“I’m Eldred Whitmore. What’s he done?”

“We believe he was poisoning several of the
horses. We spoke to the magistrate in Gloucester and members of the
Jockey Club earlier this week about our connection to the various
incidents at other race meetings.” Knightwick brought the man up to
date.

“You see why we were taking precautions,”
David added. He held out the paper he’d taken from the groom’s
mouth. “He tried to destroy this list. These are the buckets from
the stalls, plus the extra one.”

Whitmore nodded. “We’ll dispose of the water
in them, I guess. Did any of the horses turn sick?”

“Not that we’ve seen,” Knightwick said.
“They’ll bear watching. We’re concerned with finding out who he
works for.”

“He’s not likely to talk. Whoever hired him
probably put the fear in him bigger than any threat we bring.”

“Have we mentioned the reward for finding
the man who poisoned Lady Joanna Hurst?”

David snapped his gaze on his brother. No
reward had been discussed. Checking to be sure the groom had heard,
David bit his cheek not to smile. The groom eyed them suspiciously,
but interestedly.

“A reward might help,” Whitley said, also
looking in the direction of their suspect. “But likely this man
knows nothing. He doesn’t look smart enough to be involved in
anything that requires brains.”

That would either make him talk, or shut him
up for good, David thought. He prayed it was the former.

“What kind of reward are we talkin’ ‘bout?”
the groom asked, his gaze dancing around the room.

“Ten pounds.” Knightwick took a few steps
toward the groom. “Payable on the conviction of the responsible
person. So not only do we need a name, we need proof.”

David’s pulsed roared in his ears.
Please, tell us who it is
.

The groom stared at Knightwick as if
weighing what he knew. Ten pounds could easily equal a year’s
wages, or more. But if there was not enough evidence to convict his
master, the groom might find himself out of a job, or worse, the
next victim. David highly doubted any thought of loyalty passed
through this cretin’s mind.

“What kind of proof do you need?”

“Witnesses, as many as possible to any of
the crimes.” Whitley held up the note in his hand. “If you had any
other instructions in writing, it would be most helpful.”