"Then you've selected your costume," Barrington concluded.
"One that I think you will find especially amusing. I trust Miss Winslow will be wearing a costume as well?" Zach inquired.
"I'm certain she'll be able to find something appropriate. Could I interest you in a card game or two to pass the time?" Barrington extended the cursory invitation. "My other guests seem to have found their own diversions while we were concluding our business."
Zach eyed the open safe and made a mental note of its location. "With your permission, I think I will take a ride about your estate. I didn't have a chance to see it earlier."
"Then I will see you later." Barrington nodded.
"Of course," Zach promised, giving his host a cold smile as he left.
Barrington closed the door to the safe, then nodded to the huge man who stepped quietly from a panel behind the heavy tapestry that covered one wall.
"You're to go to London," he told the man. "I will keep St. James here. The ship is theRevenge.You will need several men to get the gold. Be back by tomorrow night and do not fail me."
There was a grunt of acknowledgement, then the man disappeared into the shadows.
When Zach stepped into the cool, immaculate stables, he once more experienced the feeling that he'd been there before. He couldn't shake it off.
Selecting a tall, well-conformed jumper for a mount, he emerged into the late afternoon sun, enjoying the lean animal strength of the gray.
He was familiar with this particular breed of horse even though there was no need for this finely bred an animal. The horses at the ranch were lean and strong, bred for endurance in an unforgiving climate and in a land that took a toll on both man and horse. But not so the one he kept in Sydney.
"You sure you want to take him out, sir?" The stable master said, eyeing Zach skeptically. "There are very few who can ride him. Master Jerrold takes him out once in a while, but not since he took that last fall."
Zach stroked the stallion's heavily muscled neck. "I prefer a horse with spirit. This one reminds me of a stallion at home. He has the same fire as my Domino." An expert rider, he kept gentle but firm control of the reins.
"Eh, what's that you said? What do you call yer horse?"
Zach looked up. "Domino. He's as black as night except for... "
"A blaze of white down his head?" the old man added.
"Yes." Zach gazed down at the man uncertainly. "How did you know that?"
The stable master dismissed the question. "Just a guess, sir. There's very few horses that don't have some kind of distinctive marking. A patch of white here and there, is common on blacks."
"True enough," Zach acknowledged as he turned the gray about.
"Still, there is the matter of the name," the old man commented. "I knew a horse called Domino once, just like you describe your black. He was a fine, high-spirited beast. He was here at the stables when I first came on with Lord Barrington."
Zach's gaze narrowed. "Barrington?"
"Aye, Lord Barrington, Master Jerrold's father, sold him off. Said he didn't want him around."
Zach had no idea why he felt the need to know what had happened to this other horse. "Was it someone nearby?"
"No. That was the sad thing. He gave him to a band of Gypsies that always used to camp out in the meadow during the warm months." He shook his head sadly. "And after his father had had him bred for the line he wanted to have. But after Lord Clayton died, young Master Charles insisted on getting rid of him. Said he wanted to be rid of the black devil. That's what he called him—a black devil."
"What became of the animal?"
"When the Gypsies came through the year after, they no longer had him. Such a fine animal," he reminisced. "Sure is a strange coincidence him bein' so like your horse and with the same name." The stable master shook his head.
"How long ago?" Zach asked.
The man removed his cap and scratched his head. "Well, as close as I can remember it must be well over thirty years ago."
Zach nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you for telling me about this other Domino." He turned the gray away from the stables.
