Scandalous Scoundrels

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Scandalous Scoundrels Page 21

by Aileen Fish


  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.”

  The groom shook his head. “He told me to destroy the list. Ain’t had but one horse name afore this.”

  “Who is ‘he?’” David demanded.

  “How do I know you’ll pay?”

  “You’ll have to take that chance,” Knightwick said. “We won’t pay until he’s convicted.”

  “Pay me part now, for the name.”

  “The name, and any evidence you can give us. One quid now, the rest on his conviction.”

  The groom scowled. “And if I don’t have a name?”

  Whitley stuck the note in his pocket and straightened. “Then I’ll have to take you before the magistrate to be charged with all the crimes yourself.”

  Hanging his head, the man appeared to consider his chances. “Sir Frederick Ardwen is yer man.”

  David’s hands fisted. “Is he here at the race meeting?”

  “I dunno. I only speak to him at ‘is London house.”

  Whitley walked between David and the groom. “I’ll take it from here, Lumley. Leave the investigation to me and my men.”

  “But we have information about all of the poisonings, and a few suspicious injuries,” David argued.

  “We’ll be contacting you to tell us what you know, of course. And we’ll see to the arrest of Sir Frederick if the evidence warrants it.” Whitley motioned to a large man who appeared in the doorway, then roughly took the arm of the groom and led him outside.

  After the constable left the tack room, all the starch in David’s bones left him. He sagged against the wall. “Is it done, then?”

  Knightwick raised his hands. “Who can say? They need to gather the proof, make the arrest, then take him before the magistrate. They’ll have to contact all the other parishes with what they know and try to connect Sir Frederick to the crimes there. We’ll be called to testify for the trials we are involved in.”

  “We’ll have to be on our guard until he’s arrested. There’s no telling what he might do to shut up the witnesses.”

  Sir Jasper spoke up. “Right now, we need to find Northcotte and inform him of what happened.”

  “I want to talk to the three owners of those horses today,” David said.

  Knightwick threw his arm across the doorway, blocking David’s exit. “Whitley will take care of it.”
<
br />   “But I need to know—”

  “No, you don’t. Whitley will find out why Sir Frederick was doing this. Our part is done.”

  “But—”

  “David, speaking to those men won’t cure what’s ailing you now.”

  Tension coursed down David’s arms again and he ran his hands through his hair to burn some of the tingling away. “I want to kill him for what he did to Joanna.”

  “We all do,” Sir Jasper said. “You can’t challenge him to a duel over this, and anything else you tried would land you in court.”

  Knightwick withdrew his arm and stepped back so David could leave the tack room. “Why don’t you go back to London and let Lady Joanna know they are close to arresting the man who harmed her? I’ll stay with Triton, and speak to Northcotte.”

  David met his brother’s gaze, then that of Sir Jasper, who nodded. “I’ll ride to Town with you. Lady Ophelia is concerned about us all.”

  “Very well, I’ll call on Joanna.” He turned on his heels, letting the pent up frustration out as he strode to the inn where he’d stabled Nemo. Perhaps seeing Joanna, reaffirming she was well, would calm him, finally.

  ~*~

  As David mounted Nemo ready to return to London, one of his grooms ran up. “Mr. Lumley, Lord Knightwick says you’re to come to the Downs. It’s urgent.”

  Waving for Sir Jasper to follow him, David kicked Nemo’s flanks and galloped down the street to the stable at the racing grounds. He jumped off his horse, leading him by the reins as he entered the building. “Knightwick?”

  “Here.” His voice came from the tack room.

  David stood in the doorway. “What news?”

  “Sir Frederick was in the village after all. Whitley is escorting him to the magistrate in Gloucester as we speak.”

  “He was here? Did Whitley question him?”

  Knightwick shook his head. “There is little to charge him with unless the three horses take sick. Whitley says they’ll hold him and contact the magistrates in the other shires where Lady Joanna became ill and Northcotte’s groom died. The coroners who investigated those crimes will probably come here to question him and decide which of them will prosecute first. Most likely they’ll try him for the groom’s death, although unless the man we caught today had more information, they won’t have enough evidence.”

  David gritted his teeth. “Perhaps I should overtake them on the road and question him myself.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish. I hoped you and Sir Jasper would ride to Gloucester and follow the proceedings. Or at the very least, the questioning.”

  Northcotte entered the stable and called out to them. “Is my man telling the truth of it? Sir Frederick has been arrested?”

  “He has. He’s on his way to the house of corrections in Gloucester.”

  “I hope they are able to prove something. I’ll ride there and tell the magistrate what I know about Ascot.”

  “Good. Sir Jasper and I are going, also.” David shook his head, knowing this all might come to naught. “Would it do any good to ask others who’ve borrowed money from him if they experienced any attempts at blackmail?”

  Knightwick stroked his chin. “I say it can’t hurt to find as many charges as we can against Sir Frederick, in case the two serious crimes can’t be proven. I’ll finish what I’m doing here in Bibury, looking for Sir Frederick’s hired men, and will contact the gentlemen we know who have had dealings with the man.”

  David had to chuckle at this. “What happened to ‘leave the investigation to Whitley?’”

  Knightwick didn’t smile in return. “I see nothing wrong with speeding up the investigation. Perhaps the gentleman would speak more freely with a peer than a constable. But as my connection to these crimes is less glaring than yours, I think it’s better I be the one to do it.”

  Leave it to his brother to justify doing exactly what he’d told David not to do. Since he was itching to confront Sir Frederick, David was relieved he could finally do so.

  ~*~

  Night had fallen by the time David, Northcotte, and Sir Jasper arrived in Gloucester and found lodging. They had to wait until the next morning to speak to the magistrate. As they sat in the pub drinking ale and eating cold, sliced meat and bread, Northcotte suddenly grinned.

  David swallowed what he was chewing, waiting to see if the lord would speak, then asked, “What has you so merry?”

  Northcotte raised his mug. “This. Us. A year ago, I never would have imagined we’d be sharing a table and a tankard without guns pointed at our heads.”

  David leaned back in his chair. “I was never as rude as that, was I?” He tried to recall any time before recent months that he’d spoken crossly to Northcotte. That he’d spoken to the lord at all.

  “Sometimes words aren’t needed for a message to come through clearly.” Northcotte sobered and took a bite of his bread.

  Pride pushed David to defend his actions. Perhaps he’d drunk a tankard too many, but he didn’t want the lord thinking he bore any ill will from incidents before they were born. “I explained myself when we spoke in your study. I carried the anger my father instilled in me. Or, that I thought he instilled. As it turns out, he didn’t bear your father any anger. I think he felt sorry for the former earl.”

  Sir Jasper studied his food as if he’d never seen such fine cuisine. Northcotte took a drink, set down the mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “That is not surprising. Among my father’s possessions when he died was a letter to a Lady Katharine.”

  Mother. David tried to choose his words carefully. “Father mentioned an attachment long ago on the side of one party, but not the other.”

  “That’s putting it delicately. She turned him down, yes. It was never mentioned in my lifetime and I believed he truly loved my mother.”

  “I don’t fully understand how that came to affect their lives so completely when it came to horses. Their rivalry was enough that I believed my father hated yours. We would be wise to let the rivalry end with us.”

  “If I couldn’t set it aside, I would not have accepted your offer for my sister’s hand.”

  David took a long drink and motioned to the innkeeper for another round. “Well, she has her own reasons for keeping our families separate.”

  “You’ve asked her again? I was certain she’d come around.” Northcotte stared at him with wide eyes.

  “No, I am giving her time to consider her heart. She was not as easily convinced to brush aside my believing you capable of murder.”

  Sir Jasper coughed into his tankard, but recovered quickly and continued to eat in silence.

  Northcotte chewed his lip. “I can see her point.”

  “I never really believed it, you know. You were a convenient target for my frustration. I couldn’t let on I was incapable of breeding a winning runner.” The words were still difficult to bite out. He’d managed Fernleigh for enough years he should have produced another horse like Zephyr. But none of his foals had the right combination of muscle and stride length to run like that horse.

  As if Northcotte heard his thoughts, he said, “Zephyr was one of a kind. Breeders all across England are kicking themselves that they haven’t bred his equal.”

  It was probably true, but it didn’t help ease the dissatisfaction David still carried. Triton had winning qualities and was a fine runner, but he was not Zephyr.

  “You aren’t the man I thought you were,” Northcotte added, catching David off guard.

  David’s gaze jerked up to meet the lord’s. “What do you mean by that?” he barked.

  “I thought you loved my sister. Otherwise, if it weren’t for Sir Frederick’s threat, I would never have considered you suitable for Joanna. Yet you are willing to walk away without a fight.”

  David gripped the edge of the table, leaning forward and fighting to keep his voice down. “Walk away? I am giving her what she wants. She has her horse, and the freedom to find some other man to marry. She begged me to go. I’m not
the man to force her into a marriage she doesn’t want. That was Sir Frederick’s role.”

  “She didn’t object to seeing you in Windsor. She seemed quite taken with you as she recovered. She never mentioned turning you down.”

  “Well, she did. And that’s the end of it.”

  “It appears you aren’t the man for her.”

  “I am perfect for her. Who else would ask her opinion about a foal’s future as a runner? Who else would encourage her to spend time in the stables? As my wife, she would be happy for the rest of her days, and be loved, not displayed for social status, or whatever that bounder wanted her for.”

  Northcotte’s eyes narrowed. “But she won’t have the chance because you’ve given up the fight.”

  “I told her I’d stay away.”

  “Before or after she almost died?”

  “Before. But you sent for me to come to Windsor, so I was not going back on my word by calling on you there.”

  Sir Jasper cleared his throat. “I believe the ladies are removing to Bath next week.”

  “That’s fine. The waters should help her recover.” A whisper of jealousy snaked through David at the thought of her meeting other men, but the number of eligible, interesting men in Bath should be fewer than she’d met in Town. He shouldn’t feel that way, but he did. He wanted her for himself.

  Northcotte chuckled, shaking his head. “I believe he thought you might recall some business you needed to attend to in Bath.”

  “Of course. I was simply trying to plan my scheme to run into her there.” In truth, he was still trying to convince himself she’d see him as something more than the friend she’d agreed to tolerate. Something much more.

  Could she possibly be hoping he’d ask her again? He was afraid to let hope into his heart. The pain of being refused twice by the woman he loved would be unbearable. Although he doubted it could compare to the pain he’d put Lady Joanna through.

  He didn’t deserve her. But he couldn’t go through life without her.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The next morning, David paced outside the chamber in the magistrate’s office where they’d taken Sir Frederick. He’d been barred access to the questioning and was ready to crawl out of his skin with the need to confront the bounder. After several hours, Lord Clermont, the magistrate, came out of the room alone. David jumped at the chance to obtain some answers. “My lord, did you learn anything?”

 

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