Page 3 of Unmasking a Wicked Marquess
“It is sabotage, My Lord,” he said simply. “Someone fastened these pins to the seat of the saddle.” He took the saddle from its discarded position at the side of the stable and turned it up. “He bore the pain for so long, but when the jockey drove him harder, it was too much. Someone wanted to make sure Midnight Dancer could not win that race.”
***
“Lord Clarence? May I speak with you?”
Robert struggled to clear his mind. It was the morning after the foul race, and he was standing outside of Philip’s stable, waiting for Philip to arrive so they could go riding together. Robert and his family were staying with Philip for a few nights, and they had spent last night’s dinner going over everything that had happened to Midnight Dancer.
Philip had been horrified and urged Robert to engage a local constable to look into who might have committed the sabotage.
“My Lord?” the voice called to him again.
“My apologies, my mind was elsewhere.” Robert looked away from the cloudy sky that spelled imminent rain and turned to face Philip’s stable hand, Wally. The young man was someone Robert had seen in passing a few times. A rather eager lad, he was struggling to stand still now as he approached Robert rather nervously with his cap in his hand. “What is it?” Robert asked him.
“I heard of what happened to your horse. I’m so sorry, My Lord, but I fear I have more bad news.” He looked at the ground between them as if saying it was hard enough, but he could not look at Robert at the same time.
“I have to tell you something. I have to tell you that I saw a man going to your horse’s stalls and where the equipment was kept. I know the man, and I know the Duke of Lantham pays him to do things. I fear he paid the man to sabotage your horse, so his would win. So … so he could get the commission from the king.”
“You are mistaken,” Robert responded on gut instinct and shook his head.
Philip? No. Philip would never do this to me. He is a true friend.
“I am no liar, My Lord.” Wally looked up. The sudden power of those eyes boring into Robert’s made him pause. “I saw him, as did others that I can bring to you to prove it to you.”
He believes it to be true and others saw it too.
“I know he feared your horse would win again. I overheard him talking to the duchess about such a thing, too.” Wally stepped back. “I’m so sorry, My Lord. I thought it was right you knew.” With these words, he hurried away.
No, no. It’s not possible.
Robert stood for some time until the rain began, thinking about what he had heard. He didn’t want to believe it and refused flatly, yet his mind kept working over it. He thought of the delight on Philip’s face when he came back to Robert, talking of how he had spoken with the king about the royal commission.
Robert walked away from the stables. He went to the house and strode inside, where he found Philip in the entrance hall, struggling to pull on his riding boots. Far behind him on the stairs was Amelia with her son beside her, holding his hand tightly. Edward was the picture of his father, dark-haired and blue-eyed.
He watched his father, laughing at his ridiculous attempt to get the boots on. Behind Amelia was Cecily, with their baby daughter in her arms. Juliet was just old enough to wave manically at Robert. Another time, he would have waved back at his daughter, but he couldn’t.
“Ah, Robert. I’m so sorry I’m running late. I can’t get these damn things on,” Philip called, sinking onto the bottom step and pulling the boot up to his knee.
“Don’t worry, it’s raining.” Robert’s cold tone alerted Philip to the fact something was wrong without him having to say any more.
“What is it?” Philip asked, looking up from his boots. “Robert, what is wrong?”
“I just heard something. Something I do not want to believe.” He shook his head, his words creating an atmosphere around the room. They all waited with bated breath, hanging onto his words. “Someone on this estate believes you, yes you, Philip, paid another to bind that saddle to his back with pins.”
“Robert!” Cecily was outraged and covered their daughter’s ears, even though she couldn’t understand at her tender age.
“I am just repeating what has been said.” Robert stepped forward, needing to look his friend in the eye, needing to read the truth.
Philip said nothing for a minute. A strange, eerie silence fell in the room, and then he stood slowly. Taller than Robert, suddenly, Robert felt very small indeed. He could understand why Philip was so terrifying in business meetings when the business partner had the misfortune to get on the wrong side of them. That expression was quite harrowing.
“You would dare to accuse me?”
“I am not accusing. I am repeating. Tell me it is not true, Philip.”
“I should not have to tell you it isn’t true. You are my friend, Robert. Do you honestly think I would do this to you?”
“I do not know what to think.” Robert felt sick. Why wouldn’t Philip just deny it? Why wouldn’t he just say, of course he had not done it? The evasive answer made Robert begin to doubt his own knowledge.
Do I know my friend at all?
