“Damn my eyes, but it’s all here,” he said in a Scottish lilt. “Your fellow Darlington made a good start of it, but Bobby Kinson fingered five more at Newmarket, and O’Malley kept receipts.”
Nick put aside his cue. “I thought they would. What I want to know is, is it enough?”
Enough evidence, he meant, to persuade London that Fitchley had been poisoning horses to manipulate races. Nick had been struck by how uncanny the baron was in his wagering, and he’d put Stewart Darlington, who knew everyone at every track in southern England, to studying the baron’s racing wagers. Fitchley won a staggering seventy percent of the time, and in half of those races, at least one horse had been withdrawn at the last minute. Bobby Kinson, who rode Fitchley’s own horses, had been all too willing to talk about what he saw, as had Dickie O’Malley, who’d quit the Newmarket stables over what he suspected.
“Enough to have him hanged by half the sporting ton, if not brought before the assizes,” answered Liam MacGregor.
MacGregor’s newspaper, of which Nick was now part owner, was developing a reputation for being far more than a gossip rag—although their gossip columns were read avidly by all. Nick thought it best to fight on two fronts: hard news as well as the less-restrained scandal sheets. “Very good. When can you print it?”
Liam MacGregor gave a bark of laugher and ran one hand over his head. “I’ll set someone to writing it this very morning. The afternoon edition, if all goes well. This will be the biggest story theLondon Intelligencerhas ever published.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
Nick caught Emilia by surprise that morning. She was washing her face, bent over the basin, when his hands stole around her waist. She jumped, and he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, still damp from scrubbing.
“How did you come in so quietly?” she asked in a whisper, tilting her head to let him continue. “I didn’t hear the door at all.”
“No,” he murmured between kisses. “Took it off the hinges.”
She started again, then spied the door to his private study, the one that had been disabled. As he said, it stood ajar, propped crookedly in the doorway. “How on earth—?”
He grinned, letting her turn in his arm to face him. “The bolts were on my side. I pulled them out, and voilà—the door opened.”
She gave a surprised laugh, then clapped one hand over her mouth. “The girls will wake soon,” she whispered.
He arched a brow. “How soon?”
“Too soon,” she said with regret, glancing at the clock.
“Alas. I shall have to contain myself for another day.” He kissed her again, and when he let her go at last, she almost swooned right back into his arms. “It will be in the newspaper this afternoon,” he told her.
Emilia sobered. “All of it?”
Nick nodded.
She bit her lip. “He’s going to be enraged.”
“No doubt. Until further notice, James is armed.” He nodded as she flinched. “So is Pearce, by the bye. And Jock and Rudy will be about the house, too.” Jock and Rudy had gone with them to Dorset, though Emilia hadn’t seen them much. They were much bigger and rougher looking than James, though very affable and polite when she spoke to them.
“What about the girls?”
He shot her a guarded look. “Shouldn’t we tell them?”
Emilia thought about it. Her instinct was to say nothing, and protect them from any ugliness about Fitchley. But she knew that might not be possible; Fitchley had already frightened them when he waylaid Emilia. “Is there a way to do it gently?” she asked hesitantly. “I don’t want to alarm them.”
“Sometimes it’s good to be a little alarmed. It keeps your guard up so you’re not an easy mark. I would rather warn them, and let them know why Jock and Rudy are here.”
Slowly Emilia nodded. “I suppose that’s reasonable.”
When they went down to breakfast, the girls were already there. Charlotte exclaimed in delight to see Nick so early, and he teased her about not lying abed too late. They sat down to eat, though the conversation to come never left Emilia’s mind. She managed to eat a piece of toast before her appetite fled, and had drunk two cups of tea by the time Nick began.
“There is something I must tell you both.” He leaned forward on the table, growing serious. “There’s a fellow who’s been hounding us lately—Miss Greene and I—and we’re concerned he might come around here and stir up a fuss. I don’t want him to bother either of you. Will you promise me to be very attentive to Miss Greene, and to James?”
Lucy had gone still, her eyes flitting rapidly from Emilia to Nick and back. “Is he after Millie?” she asked anxiously. “Is it the man who tried to snatch her off the street?”
Nick’s expression grew somber as he turned to her. “It is.”
The room went silent. Lucy seemed to shrink in her chair.
