him before he lost balance completely.
‘Thank you, my lord.’ Cameron’s voice was quieter and the flesh beneath the finely made coat felt alarmingly thin. Life had honed his instincts and Daniel’s were on high alert. This man was not quite as he seemed and he wondered at what was hidden.
‘Here they are. Maisey and Mick. After my parents, you understand, though they will not be billed as such here. Names of high distinction fetch more in the way of coinage, I am told, and so Mr Tattersall thinks to call them after ancient Grecian gods.’
The greys were of Arabian descent, their distinctive head shapes and high-tailed carriage unmistakable. The horses were small and refined, and Daniel could have picked their lineage out easily from a thousand others.
‘Richard Tattersall is a shrewd operator so perhaps you should listen to what he says if you wish to part with them. I know my brother always paid through the nose here,’ Daniel remarked.
Gnarled fingers were held against the jibbah bulge on the horse’s forehead, and it was easy to see that there was no lack of love between the animal and its master as the horse nuzzled closer.
‘Maisie finds any change difficult.’ The catch in his voice suggested he did too.
‘Why are you selling them, then? If you bred them, you could turn a tidy profit without too much work in it. A few years and the money could be double what a sale now would garner.’
‘Time is a commodity I am a little short on, my lord.’ The reply was grave. ‘But you sound like my daughter.’
‘The woman in the carriage?’ Why the hell had he said that? He wished he might take such a question back.
‘My beautiful jewel.’
Again Daniel was shocked. In his circle it was not done to talk of progeny in such glowing terms.
‘Are you married, my lord?’ Another impertinence. Did Mr Robert Cameron always speak without thought?
‘No. Too busy saving England.’ He knew he should adopt a sterner demeanour, but the man was beguiling in his lack of protocol. The memory of a soldier he had once known came to mind. A man who had served with him and saved his life before losing his own on the high hills of Penasquedo. He shook away ennui. Of late the emotion seemed to have hitched a ride upon his shoulders, crouching over everything he said and did; a result of the problems at Montcliffe Manor probably and the cursed debts that had piled up in the years between his father’s indifference and his brother’s high-stakes gambling.
The other looked relieved at his answer.
‘A parent would do almost anything to keep a child happy, you understand?’
‘Indeed, I should imagine such a thing to be so.’
‘I would give my horses without a moment’s hesitation to a husband who had the wherewithal to make my girl smile.’
‘A generous gift.’ Where was this conversation leading? Daniel wondered, as a small seed of worry began to grow.
‘I was married myself for twelve long and happy years before my wife passed on. Well before her time too, I should say, and for a while...’ He stopped and brought out a large white kerchief to dab his face with. ‘For a while I thought to follow. The world is a lonely place to be without the love of a good woman and it was the nights that were the worst.’ Shrewdness lurked above sorrow in Robert Cameron’s eyes.
The stallion had now come over for its share of attention and Daniel had seldom seen another of its ilk; leanly muscled and compact, he was built for endurance, head turned towards him and darkly intelligent eyes watchful. If he had had the money he would have placed it down right then and there because he knew without a doubt that offspring from these two would soon be worth a small fortune on any market in the world.
‘Where did you get them?’
‘In Spain. Near Bilbao. I had heard of them and went over to look. Fell in love at first glance and brought them back three years ago.’
‘Don’t sell them cheap, then. If you hold out for your price, their worth will be increased,’ Daniel advised.
‘You wouldn’t be interested in purchasing them yourself?’
This was not said with any intention at rudeness. It was just a passing comment, a friendly gesture to a stranger. Of course Cameron would think the Montcliffe coffers full. Everybody still did.
He shook his head. If he could have raised the money, he would have bid for the pair in a trice, but that sort of life was finished and had been for a while now. He noticed a few other patrons drifting down to take a look at the greys. And then more came. However, Robert Cameron did not seem the slightest bit interested in singing the praises of his horseflesh any longer which was surprising, given the hard line he had taken just a moment before.
As the crowds thickened Daniel tipped his hat at the timber merchant and made his way out of the crush.
* * *
Three-quarters of an hour later, he was glad to sit down on the comfortable seat of his carriage. His right leg ached today more than it had in months and he knew that the bullet would have to be removed before too much longer. The Montcliffe physician had told him that time and time again, but the worry of being left a cripple was even worse than the pain that racked through him each time he stepped on it.
Throwing his hat on the seat, Daniel leant back into the leather and ran his fingers through his hair. It was too damn long and he would cut it tonight after a bath. His valet had once done the job, but Daniel had let him go, as he had had to do with other staff both at the town house and at Montcliffe.
He cursed Nigel again as he did almost every day now, his brother’s lack of care of the family inheritance beyond all comprehension. One should not think ill of the dead, he knew, but it was hard to find generous thought when any new debt now joined the pile of all the others.
A sudden movement caught his attention and he focused on a group in a narrow alleyway off Hyde Park Corner. Four or five men circled around another and it was with a shock that he realised the one in the middle was the timber merchant, Mr Robert Cameron.
Banging on the roof of the conveyance, he threw open the door and alighted quickly as it stopped. Twenty paces had him amidst the ruckus and he saw the old man’s nose streamed with blood.
‘Let him go.’ Raising his cane, he brought it down hard on the hand of the man closest to him as the scoundrel reached inside his coat for something. A howl of pain echoed and a knife dropped harmlessly to the cobbles, spinning on its own axis with the movement.
‘Anyone else want a try?’ He knew he had the upper hand as the thugs backed off, yelling obscenities at him, but nothing else. They were gone before he counted to ten and there was only silence in the street.
Cameron was leaning over as though in pain, his right arm held to his chest.
‘What hurts?’
‘My...pride.’ As he straightened Daniel saw the grimace on his face.
‘Did you know them?’
The older man nodded. ‘They have been demanding
