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Confident that Saxon would soon be joining them, Dustin returned to his study.
Tyreham’s entranceway door eased open silently, a lone figure assessing that the hallway was, at last, empty. Hearing Lord Tyreham’s study door click shut, he crept in the direction of the sound. Upon reaching his destination, he pressed himself to the wall outside the room, straining to hear the conversation unfolding between the marquis and his brother.
Oblivious to the intruder’s presence, Dustin and Trenton resumed where they’d left off.
“Here’s your brandy.” Trenton handed Dustin a goblet. “I’ve already downed half of mine. God knows I need it.”
“Everything will work out, Trent. I’m certain of it.” Dustin accepted the proffered goblet. “You asked if I discovered anything of consequence at Newmarket. The answer is yes. Do you remember Alberts?”
“Your jockey?” Trenton halted, the reason for Dustin’s question snapping into place. “Was he one of the names on that list? Did he throw your races?”
“He most certainly did. And, as luck would have it, I stumbled upon him at Newmarket.”
“Who foolishly engaged his services?”
“No one. He wasn’t entered. In fact, he’s been unable to secure a position since I discharged him. He was there to blackmail one of the other jockeys into sharing his illegal winnings with him.”
“The bloody scoundrel.”
“A scoundrel, yes, but an informative one. I convinced him to describe the two men he dealt with.”
“And?”
“They were the same men who visited me. Everything Alberts revealed about them I already knew. However, in the process of relaying his experiences, he disclosed a new and interesting fact. It seems that during one of their visits, they brought a companion with them. An unsavory sort with a horribly scarred arm. Alberts described him quite thoroughly.” Dustin slammed his goblet to the desk. “I intend to find this bastard—whoever he is.”
Still listening intently, the intruder scowled, wondering how much more time he had. His answer came in the form of approaching footsteps that alerted him to the butler’s imminent return. Instantly, he retraced his steps and slipped out the front door to avoid discovery.
Fortunately, the grounds were deserted.
Raggert darted off into the night.
Fourteen
?
?RAGGERT, WHAT THE HELL do you want? It’s two in the morning.” Coop rubbed his unshaven face, glowering at the trainer.
“When you hear why I’ve come, you won’t care what time it is. Now are you planning to let me in?”
Eyes narrowed, Coop swung open the door. “This better be good.”
“Oh, it is, all right.” Raggert wiped the sweat off his forehead, striding into the shabby hall and pacing restlessly about. “Broddington and his family are at Tyreham. They showed up a couple of hours ago in a snit about something. I couldn’t get close enough to hear what they were saying, not for a while anyway. I finally got my chance—so I sneaked in and listened.”
“So?”
Raggert blinked. “Aren’t you surprised?”
A shrug. “About the duke bursting into Tyreham? Not particularly. Our employer said something about going after Tyreham through his family, especially after the prying he just did at Newmarket. I don’t see why—all Tyreham learned was what he already knew, but I couldn’t calm our nobleman friend down. He muttered something about planning to send Broddington a telegram about his son. That’s probably what got him and his family so riled up.” Coop shot Raggert a dark look. “Is that the only reason you’re here?”
“No, although it explains a lot. I wish you two would tell me your plans. It would be nice to know what’s going on since I’m the one who’s supposed to be keeping an eye on Tyreham’s estate and his jockey. Speaking of Stoddard, he’s a cocky, insolent—”
“I don’t give a damn about Stoddard,” Coop growled, rubbing his scarred arm. “He’s your problem, not mine. Just tell me what the hell you’re doing here, then get out and let me go to bed.”
“You’re wrong about Tyreham not learning anything at Newmarket. In this case, our source did a lousy job.”
Coop’s massaging motions slowed. “Our source is not about to miss anything—not when he’s got more to lose than we do.”
“Well, he missed one conversation, that’s for sure. Did he mention that Alberts was at Newmarket?”
