Page 17 of Lady of Fortune
“Is he a racehorse?”
“No,” Eddie said slowly, drawing out the word. What did it matter whether he rode his own horse to Newmarket? He had to have a means of transportation, did he not?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Young, but I fail to see how —”
“We are almost done for now, Mr. Francis. Did your own horse bear any resemblance to Valiant?”
“To Valiant? Not at all. Valiant is a young thoroughbred. Boomerang is in decent shape, but past his prime.”
“Valiant is a pure black horse.”
“He is.”
“So it would be quite easy to mistake him for another.”
“Not really.”
They stared at one another without saying anything further, clearly at a stalemate.
“Very well,” Young said, rising, holding out a hand to Eddie, who stood himself and took it reluctantly. “Thank you for your time.”
“Could you not at least tell me what this was all about?”
Young was silent for a moment before giving him a curt nod. “We have reason to believe that Valiant may not be… Valiant.”
“What?” Eddie asked, his entire body stilling. He had heard tales of such a thing occurring before, but had never thought it could actually occur close to him. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I really shouldn’t say anything more.”
“I do not see how you can’t. I have been riding this horse for over a year. I deserve to know the truth.”
Young looked torn, but finally he stepped closer to Eddie. “Very well, but you did not hear this from me. It seems that the Earl owned a horse a couple of years ago — a winner named Midnight Express. He won everything he ran, but then broke a leg during a race and was reportedly killed as the pain was too great. As you can surmise, Midnight Express was an entirely black colt. Then the following year Lord Torrington entered a new horse — Valiant, who is apparently from his own stables. You see our concern?”
Eddie thought about it long and hard. When he had first started riding Valiant, the horse had seemed fairly experienced, despite some unusual tendencies. Eddie had assumed Valiant had been naturally gifted, and the trainer had a way with him.
But no… it couldn’t be. He refused to entertain the thought that Young could be correct. Torrington had been loyal to Eddie, and therefore, Eddie would be equally loyal in return.
“I cannot see Lord Torrington taking part in such a scheme,” Eddie insisted, and Young just looked slightly haunted. “Besides, if the horse’s leg was broken… it isn’t likely he would win another race.”
“Let us hope there is no ill here, Mr. Francis. Unfortunately…” he sighed. “A man of good repute suggests that you were a willing participant in this scandal. You have been pleasant during our discussion, and therefore I do hope this is not the case.”
Eddie could only look at him with his mouth agape.
“Hardly!” he exclaimed. “Can you not see that jealousy or some sort of malice is at play?”
“Perhaps,” Young admitted. “But we have to take each accusation seriously. It is not a role I particularly enjoy, Mr. Francis, but it is an important one. For now, you are free to train and ride Valiant, but I will be in touch regarding the race before next Saturday.”
And with a slight, curt bow, Young was gone, while Eddie slowly sank back down into the chair, resting his head in his hands as he wondered just what he was going to do.
CHAPTER9
Julia fought hard to keep her eyes open while Lady Featherstone droned on and on, about what, Julia had no idea, for she had stopped listening ages ago. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to leave this wretched party and dash back to her own home, where she could throw herself down on her bed and close her eyes, welcoming the sleep she so desperately needed.
While she always rose early to ride before most were awake, she could not remember having ever trained so hard, or being so tired.
As she sank back into the plush cushions of the sofa, the aching muscles of her thighs and her bottom were all that kept her from entering a deep slumber in the middle of the Featherstones’ very beige drawing room. As it was, her mother continued to poke her in the side every time her eyes fluttered closed.
But she couldn’t help it. There was nothing particularly interesting to look at within the room. The walls contained portraits of Lady Featherstone herself as well as a couple of other women, who Julia assumed were relatives, bordered by still life paintings of flowers and meadows. There was a small white marble fireplace, within which the fire did blaze merrily, though when Julia stared at the flames they practically mesmerized her, which also put her to sleep. The sofa she sat upon was cream with green and pink flowers embroidered into it, and in front of her on the table sat a variety of beverages.
