Page 16 of Lady of Fortune

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Eddie knewhe was slightly distracted through his own training session that morning. But he couldn’t get Lady Julia Stone off of his mind. Every time he released Valiant into a sprint, he compared his technique to Julia’s. Every time he spoke words soft and low to the horse, he compared his own bond with Valiant to Julia’s with Orianna.

But it was more than that. He kept picturing the way her small curves looked in those damn breeches, the way her blue eyes twinkled with glee when she laughed, or the adoration that came over her face when she gazed at her horse.

Just a beautiful woman, Eddie,he told himself.Nothing to get yourself all worked up over. There are many others out there for you — women that are of your station, with whom you can flirt and laugh without any concern of repercussion.He should really be getting himself as far from Julia as possible, but instead, he had only planned to spend more time with her — every morning, to be exact, until the Two Thousand Guineas.

He had just left Valiant’s stall, working with the groom to ensure the horse was completely dried and curried, his tack cleaned and put away, an apple tiding him over as the groom worked on his food, when he heard his name being called.

“Francis! Edward Francis?”

He turned swiftly to the voice, not recognizing the man who approached.

“Can I help you?”

“I hope so. My name is Elias Young. I work for the stewards of the Jockey Club.”

Eddie’s pulse quickened. What did the Jockey Club want with him? One thing he knew, it was never a good sign to be singled out by powerful men.

“Hello,” he said cautiously, and the man smiled, as though it would help put him at ease.

“Is there somewhere we can speak?” he asked, and Eddie nodded.

“I suppose we could see if the clubhouse is empty. I trained later than usual this morning so most of the others likely would have left by now.”

“Very well, lead the way,” Young said, and Eddie nodded, wondering again what they could possibly want with him. Did they know about Julia? That he was helping her? For what other reason could they want to speak with him? He had never taken a bribe, never thrown a race, had always done all that had been asked of him.

When they entered the clubhouse, it was rather silent, which was strange, for typically it was filled with voices and laughter. Jockeys were not the most reserved sort.

Eddie led him over to where they often congregated after a race, a bar area of sorts, and Young sat down, pulling his chair in at the perfect angle and placing a notepad and pen before him so that they were at an exact, equal distance.

He was clearly the sort that relied on control and order, Eddie thought as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

Young cleared his throat. “Mr. Francis. Can you please tell me what your relationship is with the Earl of Torrington?”

Eddie shrugged, surprised by the question. “He is currently my employer, I suppose you could say. He has hired me to race his horse, Valiant. Is this an interrogation of some sort? Should I have a witness present?”

“Just a few questions, Mr. Francis. Nothing over which you should be concerned. Now, for how long have you been riding for Lord Torrington?”

“Since last season, so about a year ago. I sometimes ride for other owners as well.”

“Very good. And before that? How did you become acquainted with the Earl?”

“I had ridden for a few owners I suppose he knew,” Eddie replied, cautious with his responses. “Lord Torrington was apparently looking for a new jockey for Valiant, as he had high expectations for the colt — expectations which proved correct.”

“Yes, well…”

Eddie wished he could urge the man to say more, but Young was silent.

“When did you first meet the horse?”

“A month before I first raced him, last year, here in Newmarket,” Eddie said, becoming annoyed at Young’s inane questions. How could this possibly help with anything? “Why do you ask?”

But Young ignored him, holding up a finger as he continued to write on the blasted pad before him.

“Did you bring a horse with you to Newmarket last year?”

“I did, my own stallion.”