Games (Timeless Series) (6 page)

“
Oui
, it is funny,” Giselle agreed, still grinning. The two spinsters considered it their job to watch after the family, and they definitely considered Giselle a member. “What makes it even funnier is they need not bother. I am safe enough. While I love the attention from all my beaux, no one strikes my fancy enough to cause me to lose my head.”

“That’s because none of them are Simon Harrington.”

Feeling heat rise up her cheeks, Giselle quickly shook her head. “
Non
. Not true.” Her gaze moved to a couple of yearlings frolicking in the pasture beyond.

“Oh
, yes it is and don’t you dare deny it.” Libby gave an unladylike snort. “I was present that day. And even though most of my attention was on Colin, I kept an eye on the two of you. You both seemed to be taken with each other. Whatever happened to him, anyway? I thought for sure he’d be beating a path to your door sooner or later.”

“He
is unsuitable.” Giselle shrugged, keeping her gaze on the horses in the distant pasture and hiding her annoyance that Libby had unearthed her secret crush.

Libby clucked, her expression saying the denial hadn’t persuaded her.
“He seemed very suitable to me, not to mention very good-looking.”

“I can tell you since you
will not spread the tale. Simon is a US marshal. We were introduced in Paris just after I turned sixteen.” Giselle met Libby’s skeptical gaze. “It took two years to finally dance with him, despite all my attempts to catch his attention. He seemed as taken with me as I was of him and I thought I had found the one. Then one night at a state dinner just before we were to leave for Kentucky, I noticed Simon and my father deep in conversation. I was so excited because I thought maybe he was asking for my hand.” She broke off. Her focus moved over the barren December landscape, now more brown than green. “Yet when I asked my father about that meeting, I was sadly disappointed.”

“My, we’
re already calling him Simon.” Libby’s voice held teasing. When Giselle stayed quiet, studying her hands, she pressed. “You can’t stop now that you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

“There
is not much more to tell.” Giselle offered a nonchalant rise of her shoulders. “My father merely gave me some good advice. He told me a man like Simon would break my heart if I let him get too close. The special cases he is involved with keep him traveling all over the world for the US government—much like my father’s did. He never stays in one place long enough to form an attachment, and if he ever did, he would soon be long gone, so the attachment would be broken eventually.”

“I see
.” Libby nodded, remaining silent. Finally she spoke. “So, he’s one of those who can’t commit? Your father did what Simon does now, and look how he turned out.”

“Yes
. But he wanted what my mother had to offer. He fell in love with her and knew it was time for him to quit.” A sad feeling crept into her heart. “He compromised and changed his life for love. My father warned me that Simon is different. He is not looking for love. In fact, his job is his main love, so I doubt I will be seeing him again. And if perchance I do, I will know to step aside. The man is nothing but trouble.”

“Well, it’s a shame.” Libby sighed
. “He did seem nice enough. But I can see why you don’t want the heartache if he can’t commit.” Her eyebrows lifted inquisitively. “So, I take it Bradford doesn’t make your heart skip beats?”

Giselle’s
chuckle rose up. “
Non
. I like him well enough, but I cannot entirely determine why he does not excite me. Something about him makes me hesitate. It might have to do with the fact that he pays quite a lot of attention to his mama.” She exhaled a lengthy breath. “To be honest, none of the men I know excite me.” Grinning, she caught Libby’s attention and winked. “Who knows? I may end up an old maid right here on the farm along with Minnie and Maizie.”

“No.”
Libby’s head went from side to side. “Not you.”

“Humph,” she said, unconvinced
.

“You’ll see
.” Libby laughed, still shaking her head. “Someone will sweep you away when you’re least expecting it, and you’re far from being an old maid.”

“I
am almost twenty-one. My sister was married at eighteen and was a widow at twenty.”

“I’d hardly call twenty old
. Besides, didn’t you say Marguerite married for love?” At her nod, she went on. “She was one of the lucky ones to find it so young.”

Giselle thought she’d found it
too, but she’d been totally mistaken. “I have met so many men and no one strikes my fancy.”

Libby walked gracefully to the fence and hefted herself on it in a carefree manner
. Giselle followed. Leaning next to her, she took a deep breath while scanning the landscape. She sighed. “Maybe the fault lies in me. I like Bradford and he likes me—too much if you really must know the truth. Why can’t I fall in love with someone like him?”

“Maybe you simply need to give him a chance,” Libby replied, distractedly tearing a leaf she’d picked up in two
. “Don’t compare him to Simon.”

“I do
not.”

“Are you sure?”

Giselle remained quiet, not liking the answer.

“Besides, I would think having someone to count on is important
. One thing I’ve noticed. You can count on Bradford being here every Saturday at two o’clock sharp.”

A
nother burst of laughter rushed up. “Then you marry him. Oh, that’s right. You have already married an exciting, good-looking man. So you do not need predictable. Confess. You also find him unexciting.”

“A bit
. But I do think that in itself could be a good thing.”

“Yes, maybe for someone like Amelia Higgins
.” Shy Amelia was a friend the two women mainly saw at church on Sundays or while visiting in town. Thinking of Simon’s bold moves the night at the ball and the next day, Giselle smiled at the thought of what Amelia’s reaction would be if Simon had waylaid her. “She would die of fright if a bold man ever paid any attention to her. Of course, since we are talking about me, it is just my luck that it will take a bold man to keep me from dying of boredom. Too bad Colin does not have a brother.”

Libby chuckled
. Just then, a long, wet nose nuzzled between them searching for Libby’s hand. Looking down, Giselle noticed the young stallion, his proud head bobbing up and down. The horse neighed.

“Well,
look who’s trying to get my attention,” Libby said triumphantly. “Let’s see how much he wants to please me.” She jumped off the fence and moved to observe what the horse did when she placed the bit into his mouth. When he responded favorably, she laughed. “Yes, there is something to behold in the predictability of the male species. Some males hate to be ignored. They will do anything to keep that from happening. Don’t you agree, Giselle?”

“Wholeheartedly
.”

“Shall we finish here and then go for a quick ride?”

Giselle nodded. “I would love a ride.”

After completing their tasks, the two women headed toward the stables
.

~~

He stayed in the shadows, watching them lead their horses out of the stable, laughing and joking with not a care in the world. He swallowed a snicker. They had no idea he stalked them—no idea he stood so close. Smiling maliciously, a thrill passed through him. Too easy, he thought, and somewhat disappointing at what little challenge was required. He’d been working at Twin Oaks for over a month, blending in, biding his time, and learning the daily habits of all those on Colin Thorpe’s stud farm. Trusting fools, all of them. So totally caught up in training and working. Just as his employer said they would be, and just as the other owners had been. No one had any clue of the danger.

Clenching his fist at his side, he could almost feel the weight of the added gold, easiest coin he’d ever make
.

After
waiting several more minutes, he slipped farther into the stable, unobserved.

Stalking up to Fortuna’s stall, he noticed the horse give a nervous neigh and shy away
. He stopped when he got to her closed gate and let out a low, menacing chuckle. Yes, he thought. The horses were never fooled like their trusting owners. Somehow the beasts always knew he was up to no good. Making eye contact with the uneasy animal now, his cold gaze told the mare she was next. Excitement shot through his bloodstream when the horse reared in agitation, causing the chill in his eyes to be replaced with heat.

“Rear all you want,” he whispered cruelly. “Won’t do
no bit of good. You think you’re gonna win the derby? Ha! I’ve got other plans. You’ll be dead before the end of the month and no one will know someone this close was involved.”

He then turned his back on the proud beast and strolled out of the stable, whistling a jaunty tune along the way.

Simon Harrington arrived at the White House in accordance with the president’s summons. Two army officers escorted him toward the Oval Office.

“Oh, good,” President Grant said, looking up from behind a large mahogany desk
when he entered the room. Two other men sat in plush chairs in front of the desk. “You’re finally here. You know Parker Davis and Jonathan Morgan?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. President
.” He glanced at the men, one his partner from his last case and the other his superior, and nodded. “Parker. Jon.” When both men returned the nod, Simon moved to sit in the chair President Grant had indicated.

“What’ll you have to drink?”

“Bourbon would be fine. Thank you, Mr. President,” Simon replied.

The
servant poured his drink and handed it to him. Simon remained silent until he left the room, then said, “I gather you have need of some special services?”

The president’s bark of laughter came out with force
. “You’re a quick one, Harrington. Of course I have need of your services. Don’t I always?”

Chuckling, Simon sipped his drink
and waited for him to elaborate.

President Grant leaned back in his seat
. “This is Morgan’s operation.” He nodded at the older man. “I’ll let him explain the details.”

Jonathan Morgan rose and moved to stand in front of the
president’s desk, in between Parker and Simon.

“
Our intelligence sources are concerned about a foul plot that may be afoot. The two of you are here today because one of you has connections in Louisville, Kentucky, and both of you have been there within the last six months. I need agents familiar with the area, men who can blend in to uncover what, if anything, is going on.”

No one spoke
.

A good fifteen
seconds ticked on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room before Simon cleared his throat. “What makes you think this plot is dire enough to require our services?”

“You’re aware of a new racetrack complete with grandstand and stables being built on the outskirts of Louisville?” With eyebrows
raised, Jon waited for a response. Parker murmured his assent. At Simon’s nod, he continued. “For several months now, minor disturbances have delayed the building. At first, it all seemed coincidental and nothing out of the ordinary. Materials arriving late or being stolen, workmen not showing up when scheduled, and such. All are normal occurrences on this type of projects, so no one paid any mind until other more serious incidents took place. Add to this, several horses connected with the track have been injured or killed in past weeks. Within the last six months, other stallions from Virginia and Maryland have also been injured, some even having to be put down. We’re not sure if their injuries are connected or not, or if they are just plain happenstance.”

Jon hesitated
before continuing, and glanced first at Parker before his gaze landed on Simon. “The Central Railroad has crewmen laying track, and it’s clear someone is sabotaging their work. Last week, a man died after a cable broke and a pile of secured wood tumbled down on top of him. The cable was cut, denoting one thing. His death was not an accident.”

“How is this in
federal jurisdiction,” Simon asked. “Sounds like a case for the local officials. What’s their position?”

Jon glanced at the man behind the desk
. “I’ll let you explain, Mr. President.”

“You’re right.”
President Grant leaned on his elbows, facing the two agents. “Jurisdiction is a gray area. I have several reasons for involving US marshals. First, the breeders are up in arms. I’ve received several complaints. Since many are personal friends and all are from different parts of the country, I sent a man to investigate. His report says it’s worth looking into. The railroad officials are on my back because they expect federal protection from crime when their tracks are interstate. Also, Lewis Clark, Jr. wrote a personal letter, expressing concern. He personally has a huge stake with this venture. His father was a West Point graduate and an acquaintance. I owe it to the Clark family to, at the very least, look into the matter. After all, Clark’s grandfather, along with Meriwether Lewis, was instrumental in opening up the West to expansion for our country at the beginning of this century. And lastly, the South needs this venture to be successful. Our Southern citizens are still reeling from their loss in the war, even though it’s been close to a decade since Lee surrendered. This racetrack is vital for the morale of its people.”