Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

“I fronted the money for that investigation. Several thousand pounds. So yes, I think that entitles me to some explanations. But first”—Morland indicated two chairs, and they sat down—“let’s talk horses.”


“Oh, yes. Forget our murdered friend. Horses always come first with you.”

The duke ignored the remark. “When I returned to Town, I went first thing to look in on Osiris. Imagine my shock when I did not find him at the same mews.”

“I had him moved,” Julian said testily. “Wasn’t that what you wanted? You had such a litany of complaints about his stabling.”

“I did.”

“And …?”

“And the current arrangements are improved.” Before Julian could respond, the duke added, “But still not what they should be.”

Arrogant ass. No doubt Morland would watch a pint of blue blood let from his veins before he’d spare Julian a word of concession.

“I still want to take the stallion to Cambridgeshire,” Morland said. “This is a priceless racehorse we’re discussing. My stables are the best. Osiris belongs there.”

Julian tipped his brandy. Of course. The duke would never deem any barn fit for that horse, other than his own. The purebred man deserves the purebred horse—that was Morland’s thinking. Well, Julian despised the man and his air of aristocratic entitlement. This was the very reason he’d charmed his way into the ton. To personally see overblown lords of Morland’s ilk mocked, humbled, ruined. Or most enjoyably of all, cuckolded.

Luckily for Morland, even Julian wouldn’t sink so low as to seduce the good-natured Amelia. Even if he had the heart for seduction lately, which he hadn’t.

“Need I remind you,” Spencer asked, “that my share of the horse exceeds yours by sevenfold?”

“No. You needn’t remind me.”

The ten brass tokens that signified membership in the Stud Club could never be bought or sold, only won or lost in a game of chance. It was the crowning example of Leo’s fair-minded nature. What other marquess would devise a club open to anyone with luck, regardless of his wealth or circumstance? Because, though noble-born, Leo had never thought himself the superior of any man.

And ironically, he had been. Certainly worth ten of this duke. The club had been a source of amusement for years, until Morland ruined it with his ruthless quest to win all ten tokens and own the stallion outright. The duke currently held seven of the ten brass coins. Julian and Lord Ashworth were the only other surviving members.

“Your arithmetic needs adjustment.” Julian set aside his brandy and reached into his coat. “Because I currently hold two.” From his breast pocket, he withdrew a thin disc of brass. On one side was stamped a horse’s head, and on the other, a horse’s tail. “This one was Leo’s,” he said, holding up the token between thumb and forefinger. “I won it back from Ashworth, in Devonshire.”

“What took you to Devonshire?”

“You’ll remember last summer, the whore who found Leo’s body was tracked down?”

The duke nodded. “When we last saw each other, you were planning to question her.”

“And so I did. I found her, questioned her, and then took her to Ashworth’s backwater village in Devonshire for safekeeping.”

“Safekeeping? Why did she need safekeeping?”

After a brief hesitation, Julian decided to tell Morland everything. Much as he detested the man, he also needed him. Or rather, Lily needed him. And whatever Lily needed, Julian also required.

“The night of his death, Leo picked up the harlot in Covent Garden, asked her to go with him to the boxing match. Afterward, they lingered in the street … negotiating where to … you know.”

“I can imagine.” Morland grimaced. “Just skip that bit.”

Julian did, and happily. He didn’t like thinking about Leo spending his last night on earth with a whore. Truthfully, Julian had been shocked to hear he’d picked up the girl at all. Common light-skirts weren’t Leo’s usual way.

“Anyhow,” he went on, “before they could proceed, a man appeared.”

“The one who resembled you?”

“Yes. And according to the harlot, Leo seemed to know him. The two went round a corner. The girl heard an argument, then silence. Then a fight. She turned the corner and saw two footpads pummeling Leo and this stranger.” Julian reached for his brandy and downed the remainder. It burned going down, but it wasn’t nearly so hard to swallow as the truth.

He cleared his throat and forged ahead. “She didn’t see the attackers clearly. Could only describe them as two large brutes in rough clothing. One was bald, she said, and the other sounded like a Scotsman. She managed to scare them off with a scream, but both Leo and his companion were left severely injured. The whore went for help, but by the time she returned with a hackney driver, this mystery fellow had disappeared. Only Leo was there. She brought him to my house, and you know the rest. He died en route.”