He could blame Oliver as well, since Aaron had only opened a personal connection with Hudson to keep him away from Lady Rebecca until Oliver stopped making a muck of that situation. In the process, he’d discovered he liked and respected the man, and now there seemed to be no end to the stream of people flowing into his life.
Next time he saw Kit, he was definitely going to frown at her.
“I don’t think he’s listening,” Oliver said.
Aaron blinked. He’d missed the entire conversation. “What did you say?”
Hudson sighed. “I was lamenting the damage this is going to do to my reputation. I know she’s not riding for my stable, but I’m still connected to you.”
Yes, he was—for now. This was the problem with friends. Aaron didn’t need the money, but he didn’t want to lose his job. Without the work running two stables required, he didn’t know what he’d do with himself.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t look at this as simply a business decision. There were relationships involved, and Aaron would rather make himself uncomfortable than put Oliver in the middle.
He sighed. “I had a meeting with Lord Rigsby.”
“You did?” Oliver asked in obvious surprise.
Hudson was far more interested in the meeting’s results. “What did he say?”
“You’re getting your foal.”
And it was only going to cost Aaron a little bit of time and a lifetime of peace. Rigsby was going to be in his life for the foreseeable future, and he hadn’t yet decided how he felt about it.
“He’s gone quiet again,” Hudson said. “And though I’m happy to hear you’ve made arrangements with Rigsby, that doesn’t ease all my concerns.”
“He’ll talk more when Graham gets here,” Oliver said.
“Graham is coming?” Aaron wrapped a hand around the handlebar. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his friend. He’d never turn down a chance to see Graham, but he’d rather have this jockey business cleared up first.
“He’d already planned to attend the wedding, of course.” Oliver tipped his glass back and drank the rest of his lemonade. “I sent him a note about recent developments, so I expect he’ll arrive sooner if he can.”
Aaron relaxed. Graham and Kit traveled a great deal, so correspondence always had to go through his solicitor. It could take weeks for Oliver’s letter to reach the other man. “Any idea where he and Kit are traveling now?”
“No, but last I heard they were planning to stay in the southern area for a while, so it shouldn’t take long for my letter to reach him.”
All the more reason for Aaron not to let this jockey problem linger. Miss Fitzroy needed a new livelihood and she needed one now. It bothered him far less for Oliver to see his faults than for Graham to witness them. He was somewhat in awe of Graham, though it would thoroughly embarrass them both if he admitted it out loud. He admired the way Graham was investing in becoming the man he wanted to be as he waited the hopefully long time for his father to die and pass on the earldom. Aaron didn’t think he would ever have such a sense of direction.
“At least tell me she’s not going to be an embarrassment,” Hudson said with a sigh, holding on to the topic of Miss Fitzroy. “She seemed to have a good seat when you brought her by Hawksworth, but that doesn’t mean she can race.”
“She can race.” Aaron could have elaborated, told them she was better than adequate, that she was smart and adaptable, and that his belief she would lose the race was waning, but he was accustomed to keeping his thoughts to himself. Though this affected the others in this conversation, he couldn’t find the words to share.
“Does that mean she’s doing well enough to win, or good enough that you’re afraid she won’t lose?” Oliver asked.
Apparently he didn’t have to find the words after all. When had Oliver become so perceptive? Aaron narrowed his eyes at the other man. “Which do you want it to be?”
Oliver shrugged. “I’m not sure. Lord Gliddon keeps sending messages. It will be easy enough to avoid him for a few days, but my continued dodging will soon become conspicuous. I doubt he approves, but I’d rather not confirm it.”
Did Gliddon not know he was housing the controversial jockey? Aaron wasn’t going to ask. He did not want to feel honor bound to find her new lodging.
Hudson shook his head. “As entertaining as it is to watch you squirm, Whitworth, I’m concerned. Davers can stir up a lot of trouble in a week.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Bianca is talking too. She says there’s no reason for her not to be allowed to ride the thoroughbreds at a full gallop now.”
Hudson’s betrothed was an avid horsewoman, but Miss Fitzroy on the back of one of those volatile beasts was nerve-racking enough. He couldn’t take responsibility for Bianca too. “Tell her she can do that when she can stand on a galloping horse.”
Both men blinked. “Miss Fitzroy can do that?” Hudson asked.
“Circus,” Aaron muttered.
Trent stepped back out on the terrace, his wife, daughter, and nanny trailing behind. “Adelaide, I think I’ve learned how to ride this apparatus.”
“I don’t care how good you are, our daughter isn’t getting on,” his wife responded.
Trent demonstrated his ability to run while sitting on the plank, and talk of another dinner party arose. They hadn’t even eaten tonight’s dinner and the group was discussing gathering for another one—only Adelaide insisted more ladies be invited next time.
Social plans and gossip swirled around, replacing the earlier uncomfortable conversation and giving Aaron an entirely different feeling of discomfort.
He didn’t begrudge his friends their happiness, but there was no denying they seemed to be leaving him behind. Long ago, he’d accepted that domestic bliss would never be his, but he hoped that as his friends found theirs, there’d still be a place for him on the fringe.
Fourteen
Aaron arrived at the training yard early the next morning intent on settling himself with the familiar surroundings of horses. The smell of animal and leather, the shouts of trainers, the dust and grime that made all who worked among the racehorses equal. If he could absorb enough of that, he would remain focused when his new jockey arrived.
His plan had one problem.
She was already there.
He heard her before he saw her. It wasn’t difficult, given that only two of the boxes in the stable were occupied and Sweet Fleet was such a quiet, sedate animal Aaron wasn’t sure they could train the horse to race at all. The stillness allowed Miss Fitzroy’s ramblings to drift through the dim building.
“Not the least bit burnt. How do you think they know when to take it out of the fire?”
What was she talking about?
“I guess it’s like anything else. If you pay enough attention, you can learn the nuances of anything, including properly cooked toast.”
Aaron frowned. Properly cooked toast?
“I’ve never given much attention to cooking.” Aaron couldn’t see her, but he could imagine those slim shoulders shrugging in the short space of silence. “Horses are far more interesting than toast.”