I quickly realised it had been a mistake inviting Lord Edward to Fakenham.
In fact, I'd forgotten about our encounter entirely until Grubs parked the car and he sauntered over, beaming and bouncing.
"You've arrived!" He exclaimed. "Jolly good."
My heart sank. I hadn't factored this into my plans when I invited Tommy to a negotiation. But I wasn't about to be rude, so I gave a polite smile and offered my hand when he asked for it.
"You say you don't have a single horse racing today?" Edward asked as we were waved through.
"Just a few," I answered. "None of them powerhouses, I must warn you. Please don't go placing bets out of courtesy."
"Oh, but I already have! And rather good odds, the cookie gave me, considering—"
"Bookie," I gently corrected, biting my lip to hide a smile. I could not glance at Michael, walking beside us, or I knew we would burst out laughing.
"Oh?" Edward looked genuinely bemused. "Bookie... rather an odd name, isn't it? I suppose you gambling lot are an odd sort. Father always said..."
"Kill me now," I murmured to Michael beneath my breath as Edward rattled on.
"If Thomas Shelby does come, I might not have to," he replied.
"Keep an eye out for him. Tell Grubs, too. Thomas has a habit of sneaking up on me at these things."
Michael gave a quick nod. "Miss."
"Please, Edward," I interjected when he finally stopped for air. "Would you excuse me for a moment?"
"Off to see your horses?" He asked. "I'll come along."
Michael leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Grubs has spotted Thomas Shelby."
I fought the urge to put my head in my hands. This was falling apart.
"Actually, I just need a moment to speak with an old friend," I told Edward. "In private."
For a moment, I thought I had actually gotten through to him. But then, his jaw tightened, and his eyes lit up.
"Shelby," he announced. "From the hunt."
Thomas did not speak. Did not greet me in his usual way. I risked glancing at him, and almost regretted it immediately. Arms folded across his chest, eyes brows slightly raised, lips pressed together. He was angry.
"You made it," I said.
"Am I going to regret this, Kimber?" He asked.
I swallowed. "Michael, show Lord Edward our horses."
Michael glared reluctantly and didn't move at first. What was wrong with them all?
But finally they left, leaving me and Tommy alone. Not counting Grubs, in dark sunglasses and a black suit.
"Moved onto lords now, have you?" Tommy asked coldly.
"Not that it's any of your business," I glared, heat rising to my cheeks, "but I haven't moved onto anyone." Then, on an impulse, "Can you say the same?"
"Almost invited a lady today, in fact," he said, "but I thought it would be inappropriate. I see you thought differently."
It shouldn't have felt like such a stab in the heart. But it did.
"Don't refrain on my account." I looked anywhere but back at him. "Let's take this to my box, shall we?"
Each step felt like I was trodding through mud. I felt shaken, disarmed. I hadn't even considered the possibility that Tommy might move on. I didn't like this — didn't like this sadness, the return of this pain, with nowhere to put it. I couldn't get angry over it, after all. It was bound to happen at some stage.
My hands trembled as I poured the whiskey. Tommy said nothing. I wasn't sure if his silence was a mercy.
I passed him a glass. "To Cheltenham," I toasted.
He lifted his own and sipped.
"Unless it was Warwick you were after, after all," I said.
"Why would I settle for Warwick after you've put Cheltenham on the table?" He murmured.
He lit a cigarette. The smell made my head spin — and not in an altogether bad way.
"Because I don't trust your loyalty to Cheltenham. Not when you're bandying about at a chance for any other race that'll have you."
"You denied me Cheltenham," he said, pale eyes boring into my own. "Repeatedly. What do you expect me to do? Hang up my cap and retire?"
I leaned forward, across the table that separated us. Tommy's gaze flickered to my chest and back. I realised my dress was low cut. I made no effort to conceal myself — I wasn't about to shy away in this match. His gaze darkened.
"Who's the rat?" I asked gently. "Which of my men is the traitor?"
Tommy's lips lifted into a smile. "Ah. We never agreed to have this conversation."
"My price has gone up."
"Why's that, Kimber?"
"Because I felt like it." I tried to hide the way my voice threatened to shake. I drank more whiskey. I refilled our glasses. "Because I have your name on a bullet, and I will gladly accept any excuse to shoot it."
"You tried to steal from me. It's only sheer luck and John's pleading that stopped me from putting the bullet in you first."
He held no emotion as he said the words. I believed them.
"It's not stealing if I'm taking back what I'm owed."
Tommy scoffed. "Is that what you believe?"
"Tell me I'm wrong."
He exhaled smoke before answering. "You're wrong."
"Hmm." I gave a small smile. "And yet I have Cheltenham."
"And I have the guns." He knocked back his drink. "And my informant."
"Perhaps you'll prove me right, after all," I murmured. "Perhaps you don't want Cheltenham at all. Just the game."
"It's all a game, Kimber. But why should that mean I don't want it?"
I took a breath. "What are you willing to give."
"For five percent?" He asked.
"For five percent."
He sighed. "Five percent. After the increase in expenses, insurance, bookies, I'll be lucky to break even on that."
"Funny." I pulled myself slowly upright. "You still think this is about horse racing."
"Then, why don't you tell me what it's about?"
His eyes roamed me calmly, hungrily. I needed another drink. I refilled his own once more. This was not a meeting for either of us to endure sober.
"You thinking you can take what you want. You see Cheltenham as a thing you are entitled to. This is supposed to be a negotiation, Shelby, don't you remember?"
He considered for a moment. "Half of the guns. Ten percent of Cheltenham."
The whiskey was going to my head, numbing my face. Relaxing the tension at the edges of my body. I let out a small laugh. "All of the guns. Five."
Tommy pulled another cigarette free slowly, sensually, never breaking eye contact. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," he murmured.
"And what is that?"
"You're setting terms I'll never agree to. You don't want to make a deal."
"Don't I?" I shook my hair free from its pinned style, the clips beginning to dig into my scalp. It fell in soft waves across my shoulder. "And why is that?"
He held my gaze, and his silence, as he lit his cigarette. My breath quickened. "You tell me."
I stepped around the table slowly. "Who did you want to bring today?" I asked.
"Is that what's bothering you?" His eyes glittered.
"Hypocritical for you to speak about bothered. The way you were carrying on about Edward. First at the hunt, then again today." My lips twitched into a smile. "My god, Thomas Shelby, are you jealous?"
"Perhaps I should have brought a woman. Would be worth the strum down to see you face off against someone other than me."
"So there was no lady, after all. You lied." I leaned down to whisper in his ear. "You know how I feel about lying."
"Clever girl," he murmured in approval.
He lifted his head slowly, his neck exposed, scent of musk and whiskey washing over me. "I believe you still have something of mine."
"These?" I murmured, pulling the handcuffs from my coat pocket. I dangled them in the air. Tommy waited a moment before reaching for them — I pulled them quickly away from his grasp and back in my pocket.
I let out a small laugh beside his ear. "The next time you touch the handcuffs, Shelby, I'll be locking them around your wrists." His eyes flickered as I pulled away. Though the exchange had left me hot around the collar, it clearly had a greater impact on him. I could tell by the way he squared his shoulders, rearranged his expression, finished his drink. Nothing excited me more than making him suffer.
"We haven't made much progress, have we?" I asked. "And you came all this way."
"Maybe I'll make you come for the next one," he said quietly.
My heart began to race. "You'll have to do better than half a shipment of guns for that."
The door opened. We both shifted, leaning away from each other. Lord Edward rubbed his hands together as he entered, Michael right behind him holding his briefcase.
"Splendid," Edward said. "I am truly enraptured. Once your father is a free man again, I'll have to speak with him about entering the racing business."
"There's no need for that," I said, just a hint of impatience in my voice. "You can speak with me."
Edward blinked. "Of course. Only, I'd rather make it official."
"Why would it be unofficial?" I asked.
"Well..." Edward pulled a face, as though the answer should be obvious.
"Why would it be unofficial?" Tommy echoed. I recognised the tone in his voice. A coiled viper ready to strike.
"You're only a woman, of course," Edward said.
A second later, he was sprawled on the floor, blood trickling from his face.
I turned in amazement to Michael, flexing his knuckles, staring at Edward with distaste. He'd thrown the punch.
"Michael?" I asked in disbelief. "Are... are you alright?"
"I might ask Michael the same thing," Tommy said, his voice tight. He'd risen from his seat to hit Edward himself. Michael had been closer.
I frowned. "Don't you start on my accountant."
"Sorry, Miss," said Michael. "I couldn't let him speak to you like that."
I looked at Edward for a moment. Michael and Thomas exchanged a charged glare. I remembered once more what an awkward position I must be putting both parties in.
"I think he's out cold," I murmured, nudging Edward with my shoe. I called out to Grubs, standing guard outside the door. "Grubs, would you lift him out?"
A thick and heavy silence befell us once Edward was gone. I pretended not to notice.
"Shall we have some lunch?" I asked.
"No need." Thomas buttoned his coat as he stood. "I've lost my appetite."
I blinked. "But we haven't reached an agreement."
"And I don't think we're going to." He was completely shut off as he approached the door. "See you at the Grand National."