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“Then I will talk to Mama. She will listen to me.”

Amabel had no trouble convincing her mother to support the scheme, so Hugh was sent ahead to find accommodations in the town, and the ladies began packing. Raven would make it his first object on arrival to warn Jay Kydd of Hugh’s presence.

Chapter Twenty-One

The house Cassie’s grandmama took in Chichester’s St. Martin’s Square was a plain cream-colored affair of three stories, five bedrooms, and a basement kitchen area, conveniently placed near the elaborate sixteenth-century market cross at the center of town and with a view of the unmistakable cathedral spire. Cassie discovered that it was but a short walk to the old priory green. The race course where Hermes was already stabled was a little over three miles away.

The morning after their arrival, Grandmama whisked Cassie off in her landau to see Hermes. Honoria was left to explore the town. Sky and clouds were brilliantly blue and white while ripening grain gave a golden cast to the fields. Dust lay on the hedgerows. Twisting to look behind her from the carriage Cassie could see the blue expanse of the sea below the cathedral’s spire.

The Duke of Richmond’s house was imposing, and the stables, very grand, with a large grassy courtyard, and room for dozens of horses. The steady clop of hooves accompanied them as Grandmama led Cassie to Hermes’s roomy stall. Jay and Dick Crockett were there, deep in a conversation of hands. Both turned to Cassie with grins. Hermes saw her and stretched out his neck to be petted. She rubbed his sleek coat with gentle strokes.

“You all look well. What is the worry that made you send for me?”

“We are generally right and tight,” Jay said, “but Hermes has had so many disturbances to his routine, we thought it would help to have you here.”

“Then, I’m glad to be here.” She brushed Hermes’s forelock, and he tossed his head. “How are his prospects?”

“Good, I’d say,” Jay offered. “He’s ready, but a lot depends on the ground. He’s best on hard ground, and he’s agile enough to handle the downhill. If the ground is loose on top after the early heats, he may have some trouble.”

“You’ve been out walking the course?” Cassie asked. Jay Kydd knew his business and wanted Hermes to run well. Jay was his usual jaunty self with his blue-dotted neckerchief and riding boots.

“Very early in the morning. Getting a feel for it, you know. He’s going to do the six-furlong dash for three-year-olds and older.”

“And is every other owner as secretive as you are? Or do you know who the competition is?”

A look passed between Jay and Grandmama that made Cassie instantly suspect that they were up to something.

“There will be twelve entries, and a couple of them have won before,” Jay said.

“And what are you not telling me?” Cassie asked.

“Well, girl, you are the listed owner,” Grandmama said.

“Me?”

“C. J. Lavenham,” said Jay. “That way no one will think of Verwood. We don’t want any other jockey setting his sights on Hermes as the one to beat.”

“So that’s why you sent for me, Grandmama.”

“I sent for you because you started Hermes on this path, and you will see him through. I expect you to walk him to the paddock tomorrow.”

Under the gaze of Grandmama, Jay Kidd, and Dick Crockett, Cassie could hardly say no. They had put such effort into preparing Hermes for his day. She could walk the mile easily enough, though she did not like the idea of so many eyes upon her as she walked. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“Good for you, Bluebell,” Jay said. “It’s only right that you should be part of Hermes’s triumph.”

“Oh, is he going to win then?” Cassie grinned at Jay. She did like his confidence.

*

The day of the race exactly answered Amabel’s desire for excitement. It was easy, after all to please her, Raven thought. At the Anchor where they were staying, she encountered friends from London. Rolling along to the track in a smart landau, wearing an equally smart hat, and catching the notice of the crowd suited her. She laughed and smiled and waved. She did not enjoy the walk up to the enclosure, as much, for along with people of rank, were vendors of beer and sandwiches, and fellows who would pitch their tents to offer dancing dogs and games of chance.

She had only one complaint to make as a group of London friends passed by them eager to get to the enclosure set aside for fashionable guests in a prime spot on the rail.

“Gentlemen don’t notice me the way they used to,” she said.

“I notice you,” Raven replied.

“But it’s not the same, is it?”