Page 26 of Dare to Tempt an Earl This Spring (Wedding Fever #1)

T he atmosphere at the racetrack was lively with the excited chatter of people from all classes and sizes when Ashley exited the carriage.

The grandeur of the Ascot was undeniable. Expansive grounds and open air contrasted sharply with the stifling ballrooms of London, and the scent of freshly cut grass mingled with delicate spring blooms. The entire Ton seemed to be assembled, dressed to the nines and creating an undercurrent of excitement. Each box along the track was decorated with vibrant flowers—roses, peonies, and lilacs arranged to perfection.

In one of those boxes, she noticed the elevated presence of Prinny himself. Her gaze strayed to Thomas and Sebastian, exchanging easy conversation. They both looked at ease amidst the throng, seeming almost oblivious to the bustle around them. She could stare at Thomas all day if it weren’t completely improper. She’d kiss him all day, too. And do more.

Since when do I have such a one-track mind?

Her lips twitched—perhaps, always ? And given that her plan for revenge had recently derailed, her mind had wandered to other, more pleasurable things.

But she reminded herself of her true purpose here.

She had one focus.

Well, two.

Stop Maddie.

Confess her sins.

In that order.

“What do we do now?” Charlene murmured from her side.

“We wait and see what the men plan to do,” Ashley replied. “Then we find an excuse to explore and search for Maddie.” They didn’t have that much time. Maddie could strike with her plan at any given moment.

“Perhaps start by the stables where they keep the horses before the race?” suggested Sera.

A fair guess.

“Ladies,” Thomas interrupted with a polite smile. “Shall we head over to our box and then take a turn around the grounds?”

Ashley nodded, linking her arm with his. “Will you not visit your horses first?” She hoped he might allow her to tag along, hoping for a chance encounter with Maddie.

Thomas shook his head. “Bad luck.”

“Bad luck?” Ashley echoed, brows raised. “Are you a sailor?”

Sebastian laughed. “Only for him , I assure you,” he said. “Superstitious as they come, Thomas is.”

Ashley chuckled, a bit of tension ebbing away. “Do you gamble on the races as well?” she asked Thomas.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head again.

She arched an eyebrow. “Another bad luck thing?”

Sebastian snorted. “Thomas doesn’t gamble. I, on the other hand, will happily wager a few quid.”

Charlene’s eyes lit up. “I want to place a wager as well!”

“Then follow me,” Sebastian said, offering his arm to Charlene. He glanced at Sera, who merely shook her head.

“Do go on without me,” Sera said dryly. Once they left, she turned to Ashley with a sigh. “Do keep all this love talk to a minimum. I beg of you, for my own sanity.”

Ashley grinned, but before she could say anything, a voice behind her called, “ Ashley? Is that you?”

She stiffened, the blood curdling in her veins.

What on earth was he doing here? How was he even here?

She didn’t want to turn, but with her arm hooked through Thomas’s, she couldn’t avoid it.

Slowly, she faced the man she’d once thought she loved, who supposedly ran away, her gaze locking with dark, familiar eyes. “Jordan,” she whispered, acutely aware of Thomas next to her. She felt his eyes on her but couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“What are you doing here?” they asked in unison.

She heard Sera mutter a foul word.

Jordan cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing as they flicked between her and Thomas. “Imagine my surprise when Richard gave me The Times . I didn’t think I’d ever run into you here. Especially not with him!”

He gave you The Times and now you come to find me?

“You are friends with the Duke of Paisley?”

Jordan nodded with a smug smile. One she wished to slap if she weren’t on display for the entire Ton.

Thomas’s arm tightened around hers as if he’d felt the tension within her. “Why wouldn’t my fiancée join me when I have a spectacular race of my horses?”

Ashley’s jaw nearly dropped. She shared a wide-eyed glance with Sera.

“Fiancée?” Jordan’s eyes darted back to Ashley. “Is this a jest? Ashley, surely this is some scheme to punish me for not sending word sooner. You can’t possibly be serious.” Jordan stepped right toward her and eyed her arm in Thomas’s.

“What are you talking about?” Thomas demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerously low timbre.

Jordan’s mouth set into a thin line. “Ashley is my betrothed,” he declared as he pushed his hand over Ashley’s and tried to tug her away.

“No!” Oh that was articulate, Ashley, well done.

“What?” The word left Thomas’s lips like a hiss, his body taut with fury.

Ashley’s jaw slacked then. This knave! What was he talking about? “That’s not true, Jordan. You never asked me to marry you.”

“You said you’d marry me,” he shot back, eyes widening.

“Yes— if you asked, ” she snapped, glaring at the man. “Hypothetically.” She’d once thought seeing him again would fill her with joy, but now there was only a hollow nothingness, as if he were a stranger she disliked. He was of no consequence anymore.

“I asked you to wait for me.”

Ashley’s face hardened. “Your precise words were, do not wait for me . And you didn’t even say them, you sent a note after the fact.” No promises. No commitment. And especially no love had existed between them.

“That…” Jordan’s voice rose. “I just didn’t want you to worry over me! We loved each other.”

Her heart twisted—not for him, but for the man she truly loved. She turned to Thomas, silently pleading for understanding, hoping he could see how little this past entanglement meant to her now.

“No!”

“Ashley…” came Thomas’s low voice.

Sera’s voice cut off any further response. “Loved her? You left her with barely a word. Is that love?” It was good to have a friend by her side.

Jordan’s frown deepened “This is between Ashley and myself.”

Ashley straightened, her voice strong. “There’s nothing between us, Jordan. Not anymore.” She had vowed revenge for this man, but she’d picked the wrong target. “Perhaps not ever.” Ashley turned to Thomas and wanted to explain. Jordan had never gotten permission from her father. He’d never kissed her as Thomas did. She’d never loved him like…the man whose mien had fallen and who looked as pale as his white cravat. “Thomas?!”

Jordan cursed under his breath. “Then at least return my brooch.”

Brooch? Oh, that wretched knave.

Her mind pieced together the truth.

Of course .

He was here for a trinket, not her heart. She searched his eyes, looking for the man she’d once known and finding only a stranger. The man didn’t look heartbroken at all. He wanted the brooch? He could go fish it out of the Thames!

But just as she thought this encounter could end, Ashley spotted another figure approaching. The Duke of Paisley.

Drat.

Why now?

“Thomas, old fellow!” he called out, a knowing smile spreading across his face. “I see you’ve finally met your lady’s first love.”

Ashley’s cheeks flushed. Jordan had been her suitor. To deny it would do more harm than good, and though she feared the pain it might cause Thomas, she wouldn’t pretend. She wasn’t a coward like Jordan. And yet, Jordan was not a threat to Thomas. Then did he tense even further when Paisley arrived?

She turned to Thomas, her voice almost a whisper. “Thomas…”

He didn’t look at her, his attention fixed on Jordan. “Miss Sera, perhaps you and Lady Ashley might join Lord Cambridge and Lady Charlene for a while. I’d like a private word with Mr. Critton.”

She’d rather not, but one look at his rigid posture left her with no choice. Would he call off the engagement?

He probably wouldn’t.

Even if his affections cooled, there was still the wager.

Ashley wanted to stay.

Sera nudged her gently, urging her on, mouthing, “ Maddie. ”

Ashley nodded.

Right.

She still had a mission.

She only hoped that after all was said and done, she wouldn’t lose the man she had fallen madly in love with, for at that moment, he resembled more a wild stallion than the refined earl she’d met at Almack’s.

And it was her fault.

*

Thomas’s chest felt as if it were filled with lead, weighing him down as he forced himself to stare at anything but Ashley retreating with Sera. He couldn’t look. He wouldn’t look. If he saw even the faintest glimmer of affection in her eyes directed toward Jordan, he knew without a doubt he’d falter. And he couldn’t falter.

Not now. Not with everything riding on him holding firm.

The two men stood in silence, the crisp sounds of the Ascot mingling with the tension that sparked in the air between them. Thomas clenched his fists, his knuckles white, and took a slow, measured breath.

Jordan was the first to break the silence. “You should know,” he started, his tone smug, “Ashley and I had an understanding. A history you know nothing about. Whatever you think you have with her, it’s nothing compared to what we shared.”

Thomas’s jaw tightened, the muscles pulsing beneath his skin. He met Jordan’s gaze with a cool, steady stare. Did the man think he could be so easily ruffled?

“Whatever you were before, you are not now. She is with me. That’s all that matters.”

Jordan chuckled, a hollow sound that grated against Thomas’s nerves. “How would you know? Did she tell you about me?”

“Only about how poorly you performed, if it was you at all.” How many men she’d kissed she hadn’t said. Only that she’d never kissed anyone like him.

“So, you’ve claimed her, have you? Tell me, is this some wager you made?”

Thomas snorted. Knowing what Jordan had been to Ashley, he couldn’t shake the thought that she’d been far too generous in letting Jordan off. “You speak of wagers when you already lost against me? I let you off the hook that time; I won’t let you off again. Don’t misinterpret my charity. When it comes to the woman that I love, I won’t show any mercy. Stay away from her.”

Jordan scoffed. “Love? Don’t be absurd, Linsey. You don’t know her well enough to love her. Not the way I do. Not the way I did.”

“Your love is rather fickle, isn’t it. And if she loved you, why is she with me?”

Paisley’s familiar, vexing drawl cut through the thickening tension. “You’re still going through with this, Linsey? I imagine there are easier ways to lose horses than wagering them on a mere woman.”

Thomas stiffened, refusing to look away from Jordan even as Paisley’s words sank in. Was this what she’d wanted to share with him after the Ascot? The truth about her and this jest of a man? This unfinished mess with a man she’d clearly once cared for?

He steeled himself, breathing deeply. He couldn’t waver—not now, not when so much was on the line. “Paisley,” he said, keeping his voice level, “you’ve made your wager. Let’s not lose our nerves now, shall we?”

“Oh, I haven’t. But if it turns out she prefers another…” Paisley trailed off, casting a wicked glance at Jordan. “It would be a shame for you to lose both your wager and the lady, wouldn’t it?”

“Don’t bloody count on it.”

“Has it never occurred to you why she approached you of all men right after old Jordan here ran off? He lost a wager to you…”

“What the devil are you getting at, Paisley?”

“Oh, I shall leave that to you to reflect on.”

Thomas ground his teeth, suppressing a sharp retort as Paisley chuckled to himself and sauntered a few paces away, undoubtedly staying close enough to enjoy the show. Bloody arse. Taking a step closer to Jordan, Thomas lowered his voice. “Ashley’s mine. I don’t care what your connection was before, but it’s done. Over.”

“She might deny it, but she doesn’t look at me like it’s over,” Jordan sneered. “I saw her face when she saw me again. There’s still something there, no matter how much you want to deny it. We had an understanding. She was supposed to wait.”

“Supposed to?” Thomas’s brow rose, his face hardening. “Then why didn’t you ask her properly if you felt so strongly? Or perhaps she knew you weren’t worth it? But just so that we are clear, she is my betrothed. How we proceed with our engagement, that is up to us and us alone. And it seems to me like you’re the one who stepped away.”

“You understand nothing,” Jordan growled.

“What I understand,” Thomas said, his voice dangerous and low, “is that you left her. And now you think you can just waltz back in and pick up where you left off? Do you even know her? Really know her? I doubt you ever had a clue about how wonderful she is!”

Jordan’s face darkened, and he took a step closer, just enough to force Thomas to look up at him slightly. “I know her better than you ever will. We made promises. She’s just using you to get over me, and you’re too blind to see it.”

“Tell me then, can she ride a horse?” Thomas asked.

“Just as well as any woman.”

Aha! “And does she like the countryside?”

“Of course, she loves the flowers and all that womanly stuff.”

Hm! “And what does her hair smell like in the morning when she slept in and took a long bath, hm?”

“Violets. Roses.” Jordan came uncomfortably close. “Daffodils these days. Perhaps horse dung from tumbling around your stables, Linsey.”

A cold rage filled Thomas, his chest feeling ready to burst with the effort to hold back. Every word Jordan spoke seemed tailored to push him, to make him question what he knew in his heart to be true. But he couldn’t let himself rise to the bait. Not with Paisley watching from the sidelines, not with Ashley’s reputation tangled in the outcome.

“She may have waited once, Jordan, but not anymore. She’s with me now. Whatever you think she felt for you, it’s in the past. I don’t care if it was love, infatuation, or pity—it’s done. She’s mine.”

Jordan’s smirk faded, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Thomas’s face. “You’re deluded. The first chance she gets, she’ll leave you. That is, if she even loves you at all. And let me guess, she hasn’t set a date.”

Thomas flinched.

No, she hadn’t.

But that didn’t mean anything.

“Ah, she’s waiting to see if there’ll still be anything to your name once I get the horses?” Paisley called from the sidelines but Thomas’s vision had blurred with rage.

“There’s more to me than my horses. And there’s more honor to my line than you’ll ever fathom.”

When Jordan smirked with a rude shrug, he clenched his fists, the cords in his neck straining as he reined in his temper. His voice was rough, brimming with conviction. “She loves me. You think she’d look at you now and see anything worth holding onto? She’s stronger than that. Better.”

Jordan let out a cold laugh, shaking his head as though pitying Thomas’s naivete. “Believe whatever you want, but don’t act so high and mighty. You think she’s some perfect creature? Please. I doubt you even know the truth of why she’s here at all. But maybe you’ll realize soon enough that you’ve tied yourself to nothing more than a pretty face and false pretenses.”

Thomas’s vision blurred as his rage erupted, all restraint snapping in a heartbeat. “How dare you?”

Before he knew it, he swung, his fist connecting with enough force to snap Jordan’s head to the side. But the bastard recovered fast, retaliating with a hard punch that landed squarely on Thomas’s jaw, pain sparking hot and sharp. Ignoring it, he lunged forward, shoving Jordan back as they tumbled to the ground in a tangle of fists and fury.

Dust filled the air around them as fists flew, each man a blur of tightly coiled rage. They grappled, grunts and snarls spilling out between them, as though every buried resentment was suddenly dragged to the surface.

Thomas could hear Paisley laughing somewhere in the background, a sick thrill in his tone as he watched the spectacle. But none of it mattered. All he saw was Jordan, the man who’d abandoned her—and now, dared to insult her, to undermine the depth of their bond.

“Enough!” Sebastian’s voice rang out over the melee as he charged forward, grabbing Thomas by the collar and pulling him back with all his might. “What the devil are you doing? Both of you, stop this nonsense!”

Jordan lay on the ground, blood trickling from his nose and a furious glare in his eyes. Thomas felt a bruise forming on his cheek, his hand throbbing from the impact. But he didn’t care.

“Stay away from her,” he bit out, his voice like steel. “Or you’ll deal with me.”

Jordan sneered, brushing the dirt from his coat as he stood. “Then you’ve got my sympathies, for you’ll never truly have her.”

Sebastian tightened his grip on Thomas’s arm, his voice firm but quiet. “Enough. You’ve made your point.”

But Thomas’s point was far from done. And as he turned, the fury in his chest still raging, he knew one thing for certain: Ashley was his, and nothing, not even the arrogant bastard who once abandoned her, would change that.