They’d just finished discussing what was known of the inquisitive man-an Irishman by his accent-when the influx of ladies had rousted them. Dillon’s office in the Jockey Club was their current goal, the only place they might conclude their sensitive discussion in some degree of privacy.

But it was slow going. Escaping Mrs. Cartwell, they fell victim to Lady Hemmings. As they left her ladyship, Dillon seized the chance created by two groups of ladies becoming distracted by their own gossip to quickly steer Barnaby between two carriages and across the street. They lengthened their strides; by the time the ladies noticed they’d slipped sideways and escaped, they were turning into the long avenue flanked by tall trees that led to the front door of the Jockey Club.

“Phew!” Barnaby shot him a glance. “I see what you mean. It’s worse than in London-there are few others about to draw their fire.”

Dillon nodded. “Luckily, we’re now safe. The only females ever glimpsed within these hallowed precincts are of the horse-mad sorority, not the husband-hunting packs.”

There were no others, male or female, presently on the path leading to the front door; easing his pace, he returned to their interrupted discussion. “These break-ins-if someone’s asking about ‘a register,’ odds are they mean the Breeding Register, presumably the target of our would-be thief. Nothing else within the Jockey Club has any real value.”

Slowing to an amble, Barnaby looked at the red brick building standing squarely at the end of the shady avenue. “Surely there are cups, plates, medallions-things that would be worth something if melted down? Isn’t it more likely a thief would be after those?”

“Most of the trophies are plated. Their value lies more in what they represent, not in their commercial worth. And this thief’s not a professional, but he is determined. Besides, it’s too coincidental-someone asking about ‘the register,’ and shortly after, someone tries to break into the club where the one item referred to in Newmarket as ‘the register’ resides.”