.
Jo thought that if this kept going, she would pace a hole into James’ very expensive Aubusson carpet. The minutes ticked by, one after the other, and she didn't even have Tempest to go down to and spoil any longer.
For the past five days, she had been fussing over the mare, combing out her mane and tail, removing what felt like all the cockle-burrs between Yorkshire and London from her coat, trimming her hooves and brushing her until she shone.
"You're so beautiful, everyone will see it, and of course the Earl of Leaford will want you. You'll sire strong colts and fast fillies, and you and Papa will be remembered for as long as people race horses..."
She repeated the words to herself now. James was taking her darling mare to the earl today, and he promised her that all would be well. Of course, it would be. James had said it would.
Though she had guessed this would be a fraught day for her, she found that her mind wasn't just on Tempest. Jo also discovered a deep well of sadness in her for realizing her time with James was over. They had fulfilled their bargain, and there was no reason for her to continue living in his house. It was time to move on with her life, or rather, to return to it and to see what could be made of the wreckage of it all. God, she'd be lucky if her uncle didn't send her to a convent.
"It will all be all right," James had said before setting off that morning. "I promise."
She believed him. She had to believe him.
Up in the guest room he had given to her as her own, she was insulated from most of the noise of the house. When she heard shouting from the ground level, it struck her as shockingly loud. Frowning, Jo went to investigate, and to her shock, in the main receiving hall, she found Uncle Francis.
"I was told by the earl himself that he had my damned niece and that I was meant to come here! What kind of kidnapping organization are you running here? What the hell do you think is—"
"Uncle Francis?"
The moment he laid eyes on her, her uncle's eyes darkened with rage.
"You foolish little bitch! Do you have any idea what I've suffered looking for you? Your reputation is in tatters, and I swear by all that is holy, you will be taught a lesson before I bring you home among decent folks."
Jo shrank back from him, feeling a rill of fear run along her spine. She had never seen him like this. He looked genuinely dangerous, and from the way the butler, a tall strong man James had told her used to be a boxer, held him back, she could see that he agreed.
"Come here, Josephine, you are coming home—"
"She's not going anywhere she doesn't want to go."
James’ voice cut through the tumult with such cold sharpness that everyone turned to look at him. He stood in the doorway with a man she didn't recognize behind him. She wondered if this was the Earl of Leaford, but the man had a rather bookish look about him, nothing like the horse breeders she had met.
James’ voice was calm, like a drink of cool water in the desert to Jo. "I think we should adjourn to my study to discuss what happens next."
"I won't go anywhere with—"
James gave him a quelling look. "Believe me, you'll want some privacy for this, Lord Fairport."
They were a strange group in the study, and Jo couldn't help but notice that James kept himself between Jo and her uncle at all times. She appreciated it, but it still didn't solve her deep confusion as to what was going on.
Once they were in his study, James turned to her uncle.
"I see you received my message, Lord Fairport."
"You sent for him?" Jo asked, shocked.
"I did, Jo, and I meant to set this up so you wouldn't have to deal with him before now. I'm sorry for the scene in the foyer."
"What the hell do you mean—"
"And you, Lord Fairport, shut your damned mouth. If you open it again, I will have the constables in. And if I tell them what I know, they are going to be very interested in you, aren't they?"
To Jo's shock, her uncle fell silent, something she had never seen him do.
"James... what's happening?"
"Your uncle is a fraud, is what has happened. A few days ago, I finally got in touch with my solicitor and with an investigator. He uncovered a few things, namely regarding your father's will. Your uncle has not been entirely honest with you."
Jo's eyes flew to her uncle, but he only stared at the ground, his face pale.
The bookish man next to James cleared his throat.
"It is true that the title and the lands of Fairport belong to Francis Sallings. They are entailed to the male line, and Miss Josephine Sallings may not inherit them. The stud farm and the horses are a different story."
Jo stared. "What?"
"Miss Sallings, your father willed you the stud farm and the bloodstock living on it. They are yours."
She looked at James, who nodded at her. "It's true. The will is clear. I imagine your uncle assumed he could do what he liked with the property and the bloodstock and you would never know. If he paid off enough lawyers in West Riding, you might never know."
Jo felt as if she should do any number of things. She wanted to shout at James and tell him that this wasn't what her family was like, that they weren't thieves or liars, except, of course, in this case, her uncle definitely was. She wanted to scream at her uncle, demanding what in the world he was thinking, though she could guess, and none of it was flattering.
When Jo managed to speak, her voice was hollow. “How many?”
Her uncle blanched.
“How many horses did you sell from my father's stud farm?”
“Nine. Two stallions, four mares of breeding age, and the rest yearlings.”
“Get them back. I don't care how you do it. Get them back, every single one. If you can do that, I won't involve the constables.”
Her uncle looked as if he was going to argue, but then James stepped forward.
“Do as she says. If your own guilt and honor will not motivate you, then be certain I will find a way to do so.”
Francis Sallings nodded once, and then without a word, he strode out of the room. Jo was vaguely aware of him leaving and of James dismissing the solicitor as well. When he came to stand next to her again, she was shaking, clasping her arms around her. How could she feel so strong and vital on horseback and also be so vulnerable here?
James pulled her into his arms, and she went willingly, pressing her forehead against his chest.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. No. I don't know. I'll get my father's horses back. I suppose they’re mine now? I can't believe it.”
“You have some time to decide what you want to do. And I'll help you.”
She smiled at him. “And Tempest?”
“Well, if you want me to bring her before the Earl of Leaford, I still will. But everything's changed now, and I think you might want to reconsider.”
“Yes, everything has changed.”