BILLIARDS LEADS TO A LIST
Meanwhile, in the billiards room
When the tip of David’s cue tapped a white billiard ball, the resulting collision with a red ball sent it toward a corner pocket. The ivory sphere dropped into the leather cage. “I thought I’d lost my touch,” he murmured happily.
“I was hoping you had,” George remarked as he retrieved the ball. He set it on the table and stepped back to allow Ertugrul to take a turn.
“Well, it’s certainly not archery,” Ertugrul remarked as his yellow cue ball careened off a side rail and sent the red ball toward a different corner pocket. He gave a start when the red ball fell into the leather lacings.
“And yet you play as if you’ve been doing this your whole life,” David complained.
“I have not played since I was at Cambridge,” Ertugrul said as he fished the red ball from the pocket. “But from what I remember of the rules, it would seem this particular past-time has been around a long time.”
“Billiards is based on a game we call croquet,” George offered. “Which is why the felt is green. It represents a lawn,” he explained.
Ertugrul straightened, his attention on the cue and its tip. “What is this made of?” he asked.
“The cue—the wooden part—is a hard maple, and the tip is leather,” George replied.
“And why is this long furnishing called a pool table?” His hand hovered over the smooth wooden rail that surrounded the table. Around each of the six pockets was an ornate carving into which the leather strips that made up the pocket were attached.
David chuckled. “Good question.” He looked to his father, who was grinning as his latest shot resulted in a perfect set up to sink not one but two balls.
“Do you race horses in the Ottoman Empire?” George asked as he bent to line up his next shot.
Ertugrul exchanged a quick glance with David. “Of course. We have some of the best racehorses in the world.”
“Arabians,” David said as he watched his father sink the two balls. “Damnation, Father, you’ve obviously been practicing,” he said in awe.
“Every night with your sister,” George replied. “If you challenge her, let me know. I’ll want to get in on the betting action, which brings me to why these tables are called pool tables. Or can you sort why?”
David furrowed a brow before his eyes rounded. “Because the betting parlor for horse races is called a pool room,” he murmured as he sorted the reason. “And we always play billiards in between races to pass the time.” He puffed out his chest. “Did I get it right?”
George gave him an appreciative glance. “I’m glad to know you’ve learned some logic these past few years,” he replied. “Now that you’ve taken some practice shots, are you up for a game? You two can play first,” he offered. “First to get to three-hundred points wins.”
The young men nodded and gathered the three balls onto the twelve-foot table.
“Do you own racehorses?” Ertugrul asked as he watched David set up the table.
“I have two,” George admitted. “Both from the same dam and sire, a year apart in age.”
“They’ve both won races,” David said proudly. “Although age restrictions mean they no longer qualify for some of the races,” he added.
“Actually...” George hedged before he moved to the fireplace. He casually leaned against the mantel. “Those two have been retired, although I may race one of them in the Cesarewitch Handicaps in October. The horses in that contest must be over three, and I think the two-mile, two-furlong course at Newmarket is better for the older nags.”
“So... you acquired more horses while I was gone?” David asked, his manner suggesting he felt left out. “Did you find them at Tattersall’s?”
George chuckled. “Acquiredisn’t exactly the correct term,” his father replied with a grin. “Connie insisted the two we had would create perfect racers,” he explained, referring to Constance Roderick, Marchioness of Reading, and a cousin to Daniel Fitzwilliam, Earl of Norwick. She had been breeding horses for nearly thirty years, at one point borrowing a Bostwick stallion to create a line of championship racers for the Norwick earldom. George had benefitted by receiving not only a stud fee some years later, but also several colts from the arrangement. “So I left them in a pasture together down in Sussex, and now I have a two-year-old colt and a three-year-old mare,” he explained.
“Are they bred for speed or for stamina?” Ertugrul asked, obviously interested in the discussion.
“Both,” George replied. “Our race courses are turf, and they vary considerably from location to location. When my racers are younger, I put them in all the races, and when they get older, I just put them in the longer ones.”
“I’ve been to Newmarket,” Ertugrul said. “While I was at Cambridge.” His gaze darted to David. “Don’t tell my father,” he quickly added. “I didn’t have a horse to enter, of course, but I made some money on bets.”
George and David exchanged quick glances.
“Do you remember whose horses you bet on?” David asked.
