“Indeed. Embleton seems to be on our side.”
“Wykeham has made more than a few enemies over the years. Embleton’s father never liked Wykeham’s father either. If you will give me that slip, I’ll settle up on this one.”
Michael passed the sales slip to his father. “I could do them after all the bidding.”
Philip said casually, “I want to be seen in the counting room. And after you buy the stallion, it will be your turn in the counting room. It’s all about being visible.”
“And I thought only women wanted to make a grand entrance.”
His father chuckled. “No woman on the planet could match the preening pride of an entitled nobleman who wants to be noticed.”
“Especially one who is a head taller than the rest of them.”
“You will learn to use all your advantages, Michael. Especially the ones God conveyed on you.” Philip turned and smoothly melded into the crowd. Eyes followed Philip, with most heads having to turn upward to see his face, which remained placid, with a slight smile tugging at his mouth.
As Michael looked back toward the auctioneer, he realized the group of nobles Embleton had addressed now stared at him. Two held trading cards, which held their attention a moment, then they glanced up at him. Michael nodded at them, then turned to search for Little.
“My lord?”
He looked down. One of their stable boys stood before him, holding out a folded piece of paper. “Yes, lad?”
“A farrier asked me to give this to you.”
Michael’s eyebrows arched. “A farrier?”
“Yes, my lord.”
He thanked the boy, took the paper, and unfolded it carefully. The words brought a scowl of curiosity to his face as he read them twice.
Lord Michael,
A friend of yours, Lady Clara Durham, suggests you could advise me about a horse I wish to purchase for my business. Her maid, Agnes Radcliff, is my sister and assures me you have good knowledge of such. I would be glad tocompepay you for your time. If possible, please meet me at nine this evening.
A scribble signature underneath was illegible, no matter how hard Michael studied it, although the scrawled capital R must mean the last name to be Radcliff. The direction at the bottom was slightly more readable, and Michael knew the street mentioned, a business area in Bloomsbury.
Even Michael recognized the inappropriate nature of the missive, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher the whys and wherefores of it. A farrier would have to be mad to contact a nobleman in such a manner.
It vanished from his hand.
“What do you have there?” Robert squinted at the note.
Michael watched as his brother read it. “To be truthful, I have no idea.”
Robert’s eyes widened, then he glanced from Michael to the note again. His face split into a grin, and he chuckled under his breath as he handed the note back to Michael.
“You dog.”
Michael stared at him. “What?”
“It’s an assignation.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Robert laughed. “Read between the lines, brother. You have found a woman both clever and brazen, and I suggest you marry her as soon as you can.”
Pointing at the note, Michael stumbled over his words. “You think that Lady Clara—”
“You think you are the only equine expert a farrier could call on in this city? Especially when you are not established as such?”
