Thomas continued to study the papers as he spoke. “Because you do not have the resources or the backing. Or the history. Or the trust among the peers.”
“I know it takes time but—”
“You only have two months.” Robert shrugged one shoulder.
Michael glared at him. “What did you tell them?”
“Enough,” said Thomas.
Philip held out his hand, palm toward Michael. “Just listen a few moments.” He gestured toward a cabriolet armchair closer to the desk. “Sit.”
Michael did, placing his top hat on the floor next to the chair.
Philip pointed to the papers in Thomas’s hand. “Robert brought us your plan and your budget, and we’ve been reviewing it, waiting for your return. Booth had orders to send you to us, should you go to your bedchamber first.”
Michael turned his ire on Robert again. “You said you would wait.”
His older brother looked uncharacteristically subdued as he rested his hands on his thighs. “Please listen.”
Thomas neatened the sheath, stood, and handed it to his father. “Actually, little brother, we were all a bit surprised. The plans are quite well put together. Ambitious and expensive but impressive.” He sat down again.
“I am not a complete dolt.”
Robert snorted but stilled when Thomas scowled at him. Thomas then studied Michael. “No one truly thought you were.” He leaned back in the chair. “But you have had some difficult years.”
Robert smirked. “Difficultyears?”
Philip rested his forearms against the edge of his desk. “Robert.”
Robert held his arms wide in mock innocence. “It is hardly a secret.”
Michael tamped down his temper but focused on Robert. “Why would you do this?”
Robert’s damaged face calmed. “Because Thomas and I have learned the hard way that this family is stronger together than when each of us goes his own way. We need each other.”
Silence settled on the four men, leaving only the mantel clock’s ticking to echo around the room. Michael looked from his brothers to his father, trying to ignore the annoyance that this discussion had started without him. “What do you have in mind?”
Philip spoke first. “Would you consider going parallel to Tattersall’s instead of competing with them?”
Curiosity spiked in the back of Michael’s brain. “What do you mean?”
Philip sat a little straighter. “Tattersall’s is not just about horses. It’s about politics and betting and making connections. The subscription rooms of the Jockey Club are a hive of rumors and political maneuvering. There is as much politicking going on in those covered galleries and stables as horse-trading. Tattersall’s is a long-established business, entrenched in Society as an entity, not just a commercial operation. It is about visibility, which is what you need. A reputation.”
Philip paused for a breath, then continued. “Coming alongside them, being parallel to them, would mean establishing a company that would facilitate some of those activities. Taking and placing bets as an entity instead of an individual, for instance. Building a stable of some of the finest thoroughly bred stallions in the realm that could be hired out for stud as well as traded and sold at Tattersall’s. A horse shown and sold at Tattersall’s for a high price could be raced with increased levels of bets. You will have a greater chance—and a faster chance—of succeeding if you allied with Richard Tattersall, not made him a competitor.”
“And on that first part,” Robert said, “I have both the resources and the established entity to do so.”
Michael turned to him. “Campion’s.”
Robert gave a single nod.
“So you are not divesting yourself of it.” Michael wondered what else he had missed.
Another long pause settled on the room, then Philip cleared his throat. “We do not think that is the best course of action at this time.”
Apparently he had missed a great deal. “So we will continue to skirt the edge of scandal.”
Thomas gave a low growl. “It appears that is what we do best. High risks—”
