The Deception Read Online Free PDF Page A

Irish horse-trader, Putnam. Don’t let yourself be fooled into thinking she’s eligible goods on the marriage mart.”
    Mr. Putnam looked horribly embarrassed and began to blink like a frightened rabbit. Stade looked once more at me. I held his gaze and said calmly to my flustered escort, “I am ready to drive on, Mr. Putnam.” He raised his reins immediately and the grays started forward with a jerk. Behind us I could hear Stade’s harsh, unpleasant laugh and my fists clenched in my lap.
    “I’m s-sorry about that, Miss Fitzgerald,” Mr. Putnam said. “I didn’t even think Stade knew who I was!”
    That was interesting news. The marquis had stopped, then, because of me.
    “His stable has been doing very well of late,” Mr. Putnam ventured after a few moments. “He won the Guineas two years ago, and the three-year-old he has this season looks a sure bet to win it again. That stud of his is proving to be a surprising success.”
    “Do you mean Alcazar?” I asked.
    “That’s the one.” The sun was glinting off the brass buttons on Mr. Putnam’s blue coat, and I blinked as a flash caught me in the eyes. He said, “Horse had a mediocre career himself, but he’s certainly come up trumps as a sire.”
    “That’s not a usual thing, is it? I know my father was very surprised when he found out that Alcazar had sired the colt Stade won the Guineas with.”
    “Everyone was surprised,” Mr. Putnam returned, “but Alcazar’s no one-day marvel. The horses Stade ran last year were very good, and this year’s colt is remarkable.”
    “Do you race your own horses, Mr. Putnam?” I inquired, and he spent the rest of the drive happily regaling me with his plans for setting up his own stable.
    * * * *
    The following day my uncle told me that he had arranged to take Greystone to a village near Winchester in order to view the sword that was supposed to have belonged to King Alfred. I didn’t pay a great deal of attention to this plan until Friday evening. That was when my uncle informed me that he had learned that someone else wanted to purchase the sword and that he was going to ride ahead to insist that the owner not sell until Lord Greystone had had an opportunity to make an offer.
    “You must accompany Greystone, Kate,” my uncle said. “I will write down all the directions for you and I will meet you at Squire Reston’s. If I delay until tomorrow afternoon, that sword will be gone.”
    I did not understand my uncle’s sense of urgency and protested, “Surely a few hours is not going to make that much difference, Uncle Martin.”
    “I have just told you that it will, Kate. The squire sent word to me that he has another buyer.” He gave me a look of disarming frankness. “I have a particular reason for putting Greystone in my debt, and I badly want to be the one to find him this sword.”
    I had a deep distrust of that look. “Well, then, why cannot I simply give him these directions and let him go by himself?” I inquired reasonably.
    “Because I wish you to come as well.” How could so soft a voice be so full of menace? “I have a good friend whose estate lies near Winchester, and he has a son I would like you to meet. Bring some clothes and after we have seen the sword we will pay them a visit.”
    I was not overly pleased with this plan, but I did not want to argue with my uncle. I was not overly pleased with my own cowardly behavior, either, but I couldn’t seem to help it. There was something about the man that made me extremely nervous.
    The Earl of Greystone arrived to collect my uncle promptly at eleven o’clock the following morning. He was dressed in a four-caped driving coat, which made him look enormous, and he was not happy to discover the change in plans.
    “I am driving my phaeton,” he said. “There is only room for one other person. Miss Cranbourne would be unable to accompany you.”
    “Uncle Martin will be waiting for me at Squire Reston’s,” I assured him. There was