Chapter Twenty-One

T he house Cassie's grandmama took in Chichester's St. Martin's Square was a plain cream-colored affair of three stories, five bedrooms, and a basement kitchen area, conveniently placed near the elaborate sixteenth-century market cross at the center of town and with a view of the unmistakable cathedral spire. Cassie discovered that it was but a short walk to the old priory green. The race course where Hermes was already stabled was a little over three miles away.

The morning after their arrival, Grandmama whisked Cassie off in her landau to see Hermes. Honoria was left to explore the town. Sky and clouds were brilliantly blue and white while ripening grain gave a golden cast to the fields. Dust lay on the hedgerows. Twisting to look behind her from the carriage Cassie could see the blue expanse of the sea below the cathedral's spire.

The Duke of Richmond's house was imposing, and the stables, very grand, with a large grassy courtyard, and room for dozens of horses. The steady clop of hooves accompanied them as Grandmama led Cassie to Hermes's roomy stall. Jay and Dick Crockett were there, deep in a conversation of hands. Both turned to Cassie with grins. Hermes saw her and stretched out his neck to be petted. She rubbed his sleek coat with gentle strokes.

"You all look well. What is the worry that made you send for me?"

"We are generally right and tight," Jay said, "but Hermes has had so many disturbances to his routine, we thought it would help to have you here."

"Then, I'm glad to be here." She brushed Hermes's forelock, and he tossed his head. "How are his prospects?"

"Good, I'd say," Jay offered. "He's ready, but a lot depends on the ground. He's best on hard ground, and he's agile enough to handle the downhill. If the ground is loose on top after the early heats, he may have some trouble."

"You've been out walking the course?" Cassie asked. Jay Kydd knew his business and wanted Hermes to run well. Jay was his usual jaunty self with his blue-dotted neckerchief and riding boots.

"Very early in the morning. Getting a feel for it, you know. He's going to do the six-furlong dash for three-year-olds and older."

"And is every other owner as secretive as you are? Or do you know who the competition is?"

A look passed between Jay and Grandmama that made Cassie instantly suspect that they were up to something.

"There will be twelve entries, and a couple of them have won before," Jay said.

"And what are you not telling me?" Cassie asked.

"Well, girl, you are the listed owner," Grandmama said.

"Me?"

"C. J. Lavenham," said Jay. "That way no one will think of Verwood. We don't want any other jockey setting his sights on Hermes as the one to beat."

"So that's why you sent for me, Grandmama."

"I sent for you because you started Hermes on this path, and you will see him through. I expect you to walk him to the paddock tomorrow."

Under the gaze of Grandmama, Jay Kidd, and Dick Crockett, Cassie could hardly say no. They had put such effort into preparing Hermes for his day. She could walk the mile easily enough, though she did not like the idea of so many eyes upon her as she walked. "Very well," she said. "I'll do it."

"Good for you, Bluebell," Jay said. "It's only right that you should be part of Hermes's triumph."

"Oh, is he going to win then?" Cassie grinned at Jay. She did like his confidence.

*

The day of the race exactly answered Amabel's desire for excitement. It was easy, after all to please her, Raven thought. At the Anchor where they were staying, she encountered friends from London. Rolling along to the track in a smart landau, wearing an equally smart hat, and catching the notice of the crowd suited her. She laughed and smiled and waved. She did not enjoy the walk up to the enclosure, as much, for along with people of rank, were vendors of beer and sandwiches, and fellows who would pitch their tents to offer dancing dogs and games of chance.

She had only one complaint to make as a group of London friends passed by them eager to get to the enclosure set aside for fashionable guests in a prime spot on the rail.

"Gentlemen don't notice me the way they used to," she said.

"I notice you," Raven replied.

"But it's not the same, is it?"

"You mean because you are an engaged woman? Wouldn't it be ungentlemanly for other men to think of you as… unattached?"

"Of course. I belong to you now, don't I?" She smiled up at him from under her frothy hat.

Raven found them seats near the rail inside the enclosure marked for the highest-ranking guests. He procured lemonade for the ladies and went in search of his brother-in-law to be. There was no sign of Hugh at the betting stands.

*

Cassie parted from Grandmama and Honoria at the entrance to the large stable compound, more of a palace for horses, she thought, but Verwood, on a smaller scale, could measure up. Jay was with Lester Oakley seeing the jockey weighed and ready and would return to meet Cassie at the stall for Hermes's walk to the paddock where the jockeys would mount. Trainers passed Cassie on their way out of the stable compound with their horses, and she admired the glossy coats and easy walks of horses who had probably raced before. She tried to notice which of them looked especially fit and prepared to run and at ease in spite of the hum of excitement in the air. It would all be new to Hermes, and she understood the importance of helping him keep his composure.

As she approached Hermes's stall, she heard sounds of a scuffle, grunts and thuds, and Hermes snorting and squealing in distress. She dashed forward and flung open the stall door. Hugh Haydon and Dick Crockett lurched about in a tangled clinch. Hermes reared and came down hard, blowing, his ears back.

Cassie rushed forward to calm the horse. "Hugh, stop," she cried. "Stop!"

Her cry had no effect. The two men reeled, and banged into the wall. Dick tried to free his arms from Hugh's hold. Abruptly, Hugh pushed back, shoving Dick off of him. Dick's head hit the wood with a crack. The youth slid down the wall, and slumped against it.

Hugh panted and pointed at Dick. "He was interfering with the horse."

Cassie shook her head. "That's not possible, and you know it."

"Look in his hand. You'll find a nail. He was going to drive it into your horse's hoof." Hugh nudged Dick's hand with his boot. The boy's palm opened, and a nail, a short, sharp bit of iron, just long enough to penetrate the hoof through the shoe, rolled out of his slack hand.

Cassie knelt at Dick's side. The youth groaned and opened his eyes. He tried to stand, but Cassie held him down. His throat made agonized sounds. His eyes pleaded with her.

From behind her, a sharp, cold voice demanded, "What's going on?"

Cassie spun round. Raven stood in the doorway, outlined by the light. She blinked as if his very solid presence were a mere illusion. In her mind he was miles away with Amabel at Ramsbury Park, lost to Cassie forever. Now the distance between them had shrunk to the narrow width of a horse stall. With a little leap her heart broke free of the hold she'd kept on it for weeks.

Then Hugh turned to Raven. "Mind your business, Cole. This man was interfering with the horse."

"Let me summon one of the stewards." Raven looked as composed as ever, with that arrogant assurance Cassie had seen in him at their first meeting.

"No," Cassie protested. "Dick would never harm Hermes."

Raven flashed her a warning glance. She could not read his expression. He would not look directly at her. She thought he was on Dick's side as he had been that first day, but Hugh was to be his brother-in-law.

Footsteps pounded outside. Jay and three stable hands showed up at the stall door.

"You," Jay shouted at Hugh. He lunged for him, but Raven held him back.

"Get a steward, Jay." Jay wrenched himself out of Raven's grip, his mouth open to protest, but when he met Raven's gaze, he nodded. He stepped outside the stall. More running footsteps sounded.

Hugh brushed straw off of his jacket. "My work is done, here. I'll return to my friends."

"I think not." Raven's voice was cool and unyielding. "You'll want to repeat your accusation for the steward."

Hugh glanced at the stall door, as if he would try to push his way past Raven. Behind Raven stood the three stable hands. "Very well, but my sister will be wondering where her escorts are."

Jay returned with a steward, a stout, ginger-haired fellow, with a bristling beard in the top hat and coat of his position. "Mr. Jennings," Jay announced.

"What's amiss here?" Jennings asked.

Raven pointed to Hugh. "Lord Farnley here accuses this man, Dick Crockett of interfering with Lady Cassandra's horse."

Cassie wanted to protest that nothing of the kind could possibly have happened, but she caught a look from Jay.

Jennings looked at Hugh. "What did you see, my lord?" he asked.

"I found this fellow trying to drive a nail into the horse's hoof. You can see it in his hand."

"And were you here, my lady?" asked Jennings.

"I came in as the two men fought," Cassie answered.

"So you did not see the lad attempting to harm the horse?"

"I've known Dick Crockett for years. He would never harm an animal. He is Hermes's farrier," Cassie said.

Jennings turned to Dick, still sprawled against the wall, looking dazed. "What do you have to say for yourself, lad?"

Cassie took Dick's hand and gave him the sign to speak. He gave her an agonized look. Like her, he hated to admit what others regarded as a limitation. She nodded.

Dick pushed himself upright, turned to Jay, and began to make hand gestures.

"What's this?" Jennings asked.

"The lad can't hear," said Raven. "He communicates with hand gestures. Jay Kydd, the trainer, knows the lad's hand language. He can interpret."

"Never heard of a deaf farrier." Jennings paused a moment, and looked at each of the persons in the room. "So, you," he indicated Kydd, "are the trainer." Jay nodded. "The boy is the farrier. And, you," he looked at Cassie, "are the owner."

Cassie nodded.

Jennings had another look at Hugh, a look at the nail, and a look around the stall. Then he turned to Jay. "What's the boy saying then?"

"He says that he found Lord Farnley attempting to hammer that nail into Hermes's rear off-side hoof, sir. He tried to take the nail from Farnley. They fought, and Farnley slammed him into the wall."

"Nonsense," said Hugh. "You can't believe the word of a freakish lout over the word of a gentleman."

There was a stir at the stall door. "Let me through," came a cool voice. Viscount Tyne pushed aside the stable hands to enter the stall. "Having some trouble, Farnley?" he asked.

"For God's sake, Tyne, this fellow Jennings is trying to stitch me up here. Can't get anyone to take the word of a gentleman."

Tyne turned to Jennings. "I can vouch for Lord Farnley."

Jennings nodded. "That may be, my lord, but as you were not present when the incident occurred, your word is not needed. Not the way we do things here." Jennings turned back to Cassie.

"Is the horse harmed?" Jennings asked.

Cassie stood and went to Hermes's head, stroking his neck and murmuring reassurance. Jay checked the horse's hooves. "He looks sound," he said.

"And he's to race today?" Jennings asked.

"Yes," Cassie said. "But we must take him up to the paddock now."

Jay helped Dick to his feet. The youth went straight to Hermes and laid his head against Hermes's crest. The horse turned and nuzzled him.

"You may take him, my lady," said Jennings. "As for you two," Jennings gestured to Hugh and Dick, "you two will be locked up until further investigation."

"Not Dick!" Cassie cried.

"Locked up!" Hugh exclaimed. "You can't do that." He spun to Raven. "This is your doing. You will not please my sister by having me detained. If you think she'll marry you after this, you're mad."

"Mr. Jennings," said Raven, "I think it will shorten your investigation considerably if you ask Lord Farnley to remove his coat."

Hugh's face reddened. "If you think I'm removing my coat on your say so, Cole, you are mad."

"On my say so, then," said Cassie, "as the owner of the horse."

Jennings turned to the three stable hands standing by. "Lads, his lordship is reluctant. Please assist him. My lord, these fellows can be as nice as your best London valet, or not."

Hugh made a sudden lunge for the door. Raven stepped in his path. Hugh swung at him. In the process, an object tumbled to the ground. At the thud, everyone stopped. Jennings reached down and picked it up. He held it aloft for everyone to see, a slim-handled, triangular-headed shoeing hammer.

"Lock his lordship up." Jennings shook his head. "Not well done, sir. We'll see what the duke has to say about a gentleman interfering with a horse."