Chapter 5: The Wager

"Mr. Kessick asked me to carry it," I said.

I didn't hesitate, because the answer had come to me whole.

"He says the old Queen's saddle goes on display in the dining room during Cup week, the way it always has.

"He said someone put it in a grain bin by mistake."

Nicolette's eyes moved to Abel.

Abel turned his cap over in his hands and looked at the floor.

"That's right, Miss Nicolette," he said.

"Nobody's told me it's wrong."

"My mother doesn't want it on display."

"Then your mother will have to tell your father," I said.

"It's his Cup."

I saw her weigh it.

She was twenty-four, and she had spent nine years being the only girl in the house, and she could smell the edge of a fight.

"Fine," she said, with a toss of her hair.

"Put it on the sideboard, and if my mother has a fit, it's on you."

She looked at Abel.

"And you can stop hanging around, you know.

"You work for us.

"You're a servant, not a houseguest."

Abel's hands went still.

I put the saddle down on a feed bin, very gently.

"I'll see you at dinner," I said to Nicolette, with a smile she did not like.

That night the Redmond dining room held thirty people at a table built for forty.

The long mahogany board shone under three chandeliers.

There were silver candlesticks and red roses.

My place card, with my false name in my stepmother's neat hand, sat halfway down the left side.

I was between Jude and a man who owned a breeding syndicate.

My mother's saddle sat on the sideboard under a spotlight.

I saw my father look at it when he came in.

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