Taking up a brush, she began stroking the sleek, chestnut coat. While the horse contentedly munched her oats, Diana remained enthralled with her thoughts of DeVere—until Reggie’s voice jarred into her ruminations, and the boar’s hair brush almost dropped from her hand. Her first impulse was to confront him, but his peculiar speech gave her pause.
“We were so close,” Reggie said, clawing a hand through his thinning hair. “So damnably close to our plans coming to fruition. I was up at least a thousand at the Hazard table, but then my luck suddenly turned south. Cogged dice, it was! The bloody sharps! Half a dozen throws, and it was all gone. All we had hoped for dashed away!”
We? Our plans? Diana frowned. He was talking to his head groom, James Johnson, and while she was obscured from their view by her mare, she could clearly distinguish the two of them through the iron bars of the box stall.
“But we still have the race,” answered Johnson. “While the prize money won’t be as much as we’d hoped to gain, surely it will suffice for a time. Were you successful with O’Kelly’s man?”
“Aye. The avaricious bastard. There was at least one hundred pounds in gold coin and bejeweled baubles in that purse.”
Her purse! Her jewels!
“O’Kelly’s man will need to disappear to the north,” Johnson said. “The Colonel is not a man to cross.”
“Precisely why we have taken particular care in our arrangements, but the matter is settled,” Reggie said with a dismissive wave. “What now of DeVere’s jockey groom? Have you made contact with him yet?”
“Aye. Pratt seems a pliable sort. Given a bit of grease, he’ll throw the race sure enough,” said Johnson.
“How much?” Reggie asked.
“Fifty quid should suffice.”
“’Tis near enough to keep him in the style of a gentleman for a year. Tell him he gets half now and the rest after we win. You are as sure of him as we are of the other?”
“Aye. More so. He risks nothing as his lordship’s horse is untried and a long shot at best. ‘Twill be no surprise if they lose, and the groom needn’t fear getting the boot.”
“Then that takes care of our two main competitors.”
“But there be six running. What if we don’t win?”
“There you go again! Don’t even think such negative thoughts. You know our entire fate rests between your hands and that stallion’s legs. Win that race for us and you win our freedom.”
“You are certain about this, Reggie?” Johnson said. “You are still willing to make the sacrifice?”
Their nefarious plan to fix the race had become clear, but Diana found her bewilderment only increasing. Sacrifice? What on earth were they talking about?
A pause followed. “Have I ever given you reason to doubt me before, my dear?”
My dear? She shook her head, disbelieving her ears. Why would Reggie be on such terms of affection with his groom?
“Never,” Johnson answered.
“Good then. Don’t start now,” said Reggie.
“But you have so much more to lose than I.”
“No dearest, we’ve so much to gain,” said Reggie. His tone had softened. He smiled tenderly and reached out a hand to Johnson’s shoulder.
“But your position, your estate—”
“Mean nothing to me, while you are everything. You must always remember that, Jemmie. Win us the three thousand, and we’ll be on the first packet to France and then on to Italy. Devil take the hindmost.”
“Italy,” Johnson murmured, a note of wistfulness in his voice. “Is it really so different there?”
“I have never been, but I have it straight from Thomas Patch who makes his livelihood painting portraits of English gentlemen on the grand tour, that none in Florence have ever looked askance at he and Horace. In Italy, we’ll have no need to hide our love in shame.”
Reggie cast a glance down the aisle in both directions. His voice lowered and grew almost unrecognizably thick. “As to that, are you quite certain we’re alone here?”
“Aye, but they’ll be readying the next lot of horses within the hour to take to the down.”
“Will they, indeed? Then let us steal what time we may.” They proceeded toward the empty boxes farther down and Diana heard the door of one of them slide open and close again, thereby muffling the voices. In a daze of incredulity, she exited her horse’s box. Hugging the wall, she moved stealthily down the wide-cobbled aisle until she heard the low murmurs accompanied now by panting breaths.