Page 6

I am fully persuaded that we should hear of none of these infantine airs, if girls were allowed to take sufficient exercise, and not confined in close rooms till their muscles are relaxed, and their powers of digestion destroyed.

—Mary Wollstonecraft

An urgent meeting of the Lady Knights was to take place in the gardens at Welton House after chapel and right before our scheduled book club, and my mood was somber. As I walked toward the meeting point, a voice calling my name had me turning around. “Hullo, Zia!”

“Hullo, Beth!” I smiled and waved at Beth as she walked with Sister Mary outside the orphanage, helping to tend to the meager vegetable garden. Thick ivy crept up the walls, hiding the age of the stone, but the edges of the roof were crumbling in places. The cracking shingles were in dire need of repair, and even the large windows were nearly opaque with grime. The nuns were spread thin as it was, but this was home to many like Beth. The little girl raced over to the small hedge that divided us, pigtails bouncing and small face alight.

“When will you come read to me?” she asked excitedly. “I want The History of Little Goody Two-Shoes again.” That nursery book was a favorite with the children, especially Beth, since its heroine Margery was also an orphan. For a seven-year-old, Beth was remarkably resilient, saying that as long as she had a sturdy pair of shoes, she could be happy. It had nearly broken my heart.

“Soon, Beth. I promise! It’s Greer’s turn next and then it will be mine.” Reading to the children was part of our charitable duty as deemed by the eldest Perkins sister, and it was one I greatly enjoyed. I glanced up, hearing the nun calling for her. “Now go finish your chores before we both get into trouble with Sister Mary the dragon.”

Beth giggled, blew me a kiss, and raced obediently back to the smiling nun. The brief burst of happiness at seeing the adorable little girl was short-lived as my worries for the fate of the orphanage weighed upon me. A nasty bout of croup had strained the coffers, and on top of everything, the roof was now leaking and in need of repair. Even with the added contribution from our nemesis, Viscount Hollis, we were falling short by a goodly amount since the diamond stickpin had turned out to be made of paste and was worthless. None of us had any extra pin money to spare.

Things appeared dire for Little Hands unless we could come up with a viable plan. I greeted my best friends in the small grove near an old ornamental pond and took the only open spot on the bench.

“So, I have an idea to make up the rest of the money,” Nori began softly. “But you’re not going to like it.”

Lalita frowned. “Is it dangerous? Can we get hurt?”

“Yes, and also probably yes,” she replied, gnawing on her bottom lip. She tucked the flyaway wisps of her sleek black hair behind her ears. “There’s a secret race that happens every season between Eton, Harrow, and Westminster on Rotten Row, quite unoriginally called Midnight Row. But what can I say? Boys have no imagination.”

Lalita gasped, her voice a squeak. “You want us to attend a horse race? At midnight? Surely not!”

“There’s some lighting there, I believe. It will definitely be dangerous because the path is shadowed and also can be made treacherous by the weather.” Nori drew in a breath. “The boys will give no quarter. But here’s the best part. The winning pot will more than cover the rest of what we need to save Welton and then some.”

“Racing in the dark sounds like a terrible idea,” Lalita muttered.

Rotten Row was about eighty feet wide and covered over a mile of ground. I’d ridden it many times, though I’d never raced on the thing at night. I narrowed my gaze in thought. “Can anyone enter? How does it work? It’s just a free-for-all, start to finish?”

Nori shrugged. “It’s complicated, and I only know because my brother was one of the founders.” Nori’s brother Rin was as horse-obsessed as she was, so it was no surprise that he was involved. He was a few years older than us and ran with a very fast set. “Each school is allowed four teams of three, but there are also extra slots open to any other teams with invitations. I can get that from Rin. He owes me a favor.”

“Are girls allowed?” Greer asked, curious.

Nori shook her head. “Not officially, so we will have to be in disguise just to be safe, but we’ll use the dim lighting to our advantage. Also, there are no sidesaddles, so you have to know how to ride astride. In the first stretch, one of the three riders must race to the end. Out of sixteen, only ten riders will be able to advance their team to the second race. If someone from your team is at the bottom of the ranking, the entire team is eliminated. So, the goal is to be aggressive and quick. The first length is the worst because the field is so crowded. After the second stretch, which goes from the far end of Rotten Row back to the start, only five teams will move on to round three, which is the final race.” Her face twisted.

“What is that expression?” I asked.

“Since it’s the last race, there might be obstacles,” Nori said. My stomach dipped, but I was accustomed to jumping over fallen branches and short hedgerows in the country.

Greer frowned. “What if all four teams from one school are in the top five?”

“It isn’t fair, but it has happened before. The race is vicious, with all kinds of tricks and underhanded ploys. Sometimes one of the teams for a school will sacrifice its position or take out the competition for their top team to make it through.” My eyes went wide at that.

“How much is the contribution?” I asked, blood racing.

“I think it’s still ten pounds per rider, so thirty per team,” Nori said. “But sometimes the boys add in extra. A couple of years ago, I think Rin said it was near four hundred quid. So, if we win, that will be more than enough to cover the three hundred pounds we need for Bellevue and Little Hands.”

I bit my lip. We would have to dip into the money we’d already collected for the entry fee of thirty pounds. It was a big gamble. If we won, that money could make all the difference. But if we lost, we would be much worse off than we were now. And that wasn’t the only problem. We needed three capable riders and horses of fine racing stock.

Nori cleared her throat like she’d read my mind. “I can get the horses, and I would be one of the racers.”

Considering I’d had horse-riding lessons since I could walk, I was a capable rider and could handle being astride. In fact, I preferred it, even though society frowned upon young ladies sitting in such an indecorous position, despite the fact that incorrectly fitted sidesaddles could be dangerous for the horses as well as painful for some riders. I’d learned that tidbit from Nori.

“Me too,” I said. “I can ride.”

“Don’t look at me,” Greer said, hands spread wide. “I couldn’t race a horse to save my life. Give me a curricle or a phaeton and I’m your girl.”

I glanced over at Lalita, who was shaking her head, her face paling at the expectant expression on mine. She was our only choice. “I cannot. After the last time when we were chased by the Runners, I fear my constitution may not be able to handle mounting a horse. Besides, I would only slow us down.”

My heart sank. “Lalita, please. We need you.”

“Don’t ask me to do this, Zia,” she said, her voice wobbling.

Despair overcame me. One sliver of hope, and it was snatched away. But as disappointing as her response was, I’d never force Lalita to do something that she wasn’t comfortable with. We were all about empowering one another, not diminishing.

“I can do it,” a soft voice said, and we all whirled around.

“Blythe.” We’d been so engrossed in our conversation that we hadn’t even heard someone approaching.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I saw you and Greer and wanted to see how you were both doing after what happened at Danforth’s the other week.” She gnawed her lip and wrung her hands as we remained silent.

My brain whirled as my stomach churned uneasily. How much had she heard? We couldn’t risk word of our nocturnal activities getting out, and Blythe, as nice as she was, wasn’t someone in our circle of trust. “You can do what exactly?” Nori asked, a suspicious look on her face.

“Race,” she said in a small voice. “I mean, I’m a capable rider, and I’ve always been around horses….” She trailed off, seeming uncertain, and swallowed. “My uncle is Old Dick Tattersall, the grandson of Old Tatt. My cousins are Richard and George Tattersall.”

“As in the horse auctioneers? Those Tattersalls?” Nori asked, though her suspicion had lessened, and her eyes went wide in awe. Tattersall’s was the auction house for prime horse stock in London, open every Sunday between twelve and two in Hyde Park.

“Yes,” Blythe said.

Lalita wrinkled her nose. “Why would you want to help us? You could get into trouble.”

“Why not?” she countered, walking closer. “Sounds like you need a third, and I’m quite fond of racing.”

“What’s in it for you?” Greer questioned.

Blythe peered down and then inhaled as if searching for courage. “Friendship, I suppose,” she said quietly. “I don’t have many friends at Welton. My father has high hopes for me to learn the niceties and accomplishments of a proper young lady, but it hasn’t been easy.” She drew in another deep breath. “Some people aren’t very welcoming to commoners, but well, you lot seem different.” She smiled shyly at Greer and me. “Honestly, I’d never expected to see anyone in high society in disguise at Danforth’s.”

“Thanks for the rescue, by the way,” I said. “You saved our hides.”

“What were you doing there?” she asked.

Greer and I glanced at each other. “It was a dare,” Greer said quickly. “Sometimes we dare each other to do things that most young ladies might not do…like this race, for instance.”

Blythe’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a second, I worried that she saw right through Greer’s fib, but then she burst into a snort. “So audacious, I love it.”

“Not so nice when you’re almost caught and escape by the skin of your teeth,” I said. “Luckily, we had the help of a new friend.”

The grin completely transformed her face, making her pale green eyes glow. She was a comely girl, but I’d rarely ever seen her smile. Even in our book club discussions, she was clever in her remarks when solicited but mostly preferred to observe.

“We plan to donate the winnings,” I said, after glancing at the others and receiving their inaudible affirmations in turn. Lalita took the longest, but eventually she nodded with a soft sigh. Given her reticence to ride, Blythe was our only option. And saving the orphanage was the most important thing, even if it meant risking Blythe finding out that we did a lot more than just race. Stealing was a crime that could land us in Newgate Prison.

Greer gave a decisive nod. “You have to give us your solemn vow never to speak a word of this to anyone. Our reputations would be ruined; yours as well.”

“You have it.”

Though I was nervous, Blythe deserved a chance. And we required her help to have any shot at winning the Midnight Row pot. It was quid pro quo. Whatever happened, we would go from there—I could drive myself up the wall for hours worrying about a betrayal that hadn’t yet happened and might never…or I could give Blythe the benefit of the doubt.

She wasn’t an official Lady Knight, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be.

A thoroughly illegal horse race down Rotten Row at midnight had to be the epitome of folly. My vexing conscience was ever swift to supply the warning, but nothing—not even fear—could take away from the thrill that scuttled down my spine. Hundreds of lamps along the row’s edges had been ignited, bringing in more light than we expected. We would have to be extra careful to avoid being recognized. Me especially. Conscious of the tight braids beneath my hat and what had happened at Danforth’s, I dragged a finger around my nape to make sure that not a strand was loose and secured my face covering.

There was a slight chill in the air, despite the pleasant days, but fortunately, we had dressed for the occasion in warm coats and lined breeches. We stood in a loose circle on the periphery of the milling crowd of people and horses, watching with apprehension as Nori presented Rin’s letter of invitation to the gentlemen who seemed to be in charge.

I’d been surprised when Rin had conceded, considering this whole race could land any of us in hot water and also completely demolish our reputations should our identities be compromised, but Nori’s brother had always been a radical thinker and had always treated his younger sister as though she stood on equal footing with him. Not unlike Keston with me, though he would hardly approve of this. Nori had said Rin had laughed when she’d asked for the invitation and instructed her to uphold the Kaneko name by raising absolute hell.

From a distance, I recognized a handful of the boys who attended Eton. A towering, familiar silhouette caught my attention at the edge of the melee, and my heart stilled. For a moment, I wondered if it was Rafi, but shook my head. There was absolutely no reason for him to be at this race at this time. Sure, he’d gone to Eton, but I’d never heard my brother or any of his other mates ever mention Midnight Row. And a younger me had been prone to eavesdropping.

I huffed a laugh. Just because Keston hadn’t mentioned this particular race, it didn’t mean that Rafi wouldn’t have participated. He’d always been the wildest of them all with many other friends outside the quartet I knew.

“Riders,” a deep voice intoned. “Ten minutes.”

Glancing at Nori, I rolled my shoulders to ease the stiffness. Blythe was already at the other end to race the second lap, and I would bring up the rear in the final stretch. We’d taken her at her word with her skill, and Nori said that any offspring of a Tattersall had been born with the riding gene. Besides, anyone would be better than Lalita, or worse, Greer.

“Damn my hide!” Nori swore.

I peered at her. “What is it?”

“Rin is here,” she said, scowling and pointing to a tall boy I recognized from our last highwayman heist, who was getting his horse into position. “My brother promised he wouldn’t race tonight. What the devil is he doing ?”

“Nori, focus,” I said vehemently. “We can do this. We have to do this. It doesn’t matter who’s racing or what they throw at us in the last race.”

Going serious, she huffed and nodded. “You’re right.”

I stuck my foot in the stirrup and pulled myself into Ares’s saddle, feeling the stallion paw the earth beneath me. I kept my grip firm on the reins and patted his glossy brown neck. Ares was Nori’s, but I’d ridden him before. He was temperamental but fast. Unfortunately, unruly crowds made him skittish, so I was hoping he’d keep calm until we rode out. Nearly three dozen riders and horses, not counting the excited spectators currently making wagers, were making me nervous. Hence our position at the edge of the throng.

“Don’t get crowded on the rail, and aim for the middle of the pack as soon as the whistle blows,” Nori warned. “Remember: There are no rules, so be careful.”

I sucked in a bracing breath and nodded. Our standing as one of the four outsider teams gave us the worst placement nearest the rail. Once the horses bunched together, it would become a death trap if we didn’t attempt to gain some speed at the whistle. I’d seen enough sanctioned horse races to know. This was a deviously vicious event, but I couldn’t help being gleeful. Young ladies would never be allowed to race, at least not openly, and I wanted to teach these arrogant lads a lesson.

“Two minutes,” the voice said. “First-lap riders, take your places.”

Whoops and hollers filled the air; the chaotic energy coursing through everyone was infectious. Despite girls not being allowed to race, there were a few in the crowd. They could watch and cheer but could not participate. I fought an eye roll at the injustice. I caught sight of Greer on the sidelines, and she held her fist high. She mouthed the words Lady Knights, and I let the chant settle in my brain. The Knights made our own rules.

“How much is the pot?” I asked Nori.

Nori’s eyes brightened. “Five hundred or thereabouts.”

Five hundred pounds. No wonder the excitement was high. That was a fortune—not that any of the boys actually needed the money like we did—funds that would not only satisfy the lease for the church but feed, safeguard, and clothe children like Beth for years.

I watched as Nori got into third place from the rail, shouting something foul to her older brother, her body small in comparison to the other riders. But her size was an advantage in these kinds of races. Less body weight for a capable horseman—or horsewoman, in this case—meant a faster speed. Nori would make the top ten. She was brilliant on a horse, but then again, these boys were without scruples.

The whistle made Ares whinny and rear upward, and I used my knees to get him back into position, squinting as clods of dirt rained through the air. I lost sight of Nori in my attempt to bring my horse under control. Plumes of steam rose from his nostrils. I was certain Ares could sense my nerves. Horses were intuitive like that, so I forced myself to calm. If I couldn’t get myself together, then the race would be lost before it even began.

I was so focused on keeping myself and Ares settled for the last race that I didn’t see another horse and rider approach until they were practically on top of me. Ares neighed and reared up again, and I scowled, ready to give a piece of my mind to the intrusive rider.

“Why don’t you watch where you—” I broke off as my eyes collided with a familiar gray pair and gulped. Of course, it had to be him. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I should ask you the same thing,” Rafi said, lips pressed thin, his handsome face tight with irritation. I suppressed my desire to squirm at the intensity of that hard, silver stare upon me. There was no warmth in his expression, but then I bristled and reminded myself that what I did was categorically none of his business.

My chin jutted. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“No, you daft girl,” he ground out. “You could get hurt. Seriously hurt. These lads are ruthless. People have broken bones in this race. They won’t care if you’re female.”

“And how will they know?” I tossed back in a low, furious voice. “Are you going to tell them who I am? Will you expose me?”

“Have I done so yet?” He blew out a breath, his own horse prancing impatiently. “Zia, be reasonable.”

Frowning, I stared at him, his particular choice of words sparking a rebellious flame inside me. If I’d had even one smidgen of self-doubt about racing, it would have been extinguished by those damnable words. Be reasonable. As if my brain was beyond any capacity to make decisions relating to the well-being of my own person. I was more competent on a horse than most of the gents at this race.

My frown deepened. “Did you know I’d be here?”

The edges of those high cheekbones flushed, and for a moment I wished it weren’t so dark. I could swear that Rafi was embarrassed. “Rin told me that his fearless fiend of a sister was planning to crash the race, and he wanted to see what she was up to. Considering you’re as thick as thieves with her, it wasn’t hard to put together that you might be one of the trio. Color me not surprised in the least.”

A raucous round of cheering erupted from the other end of the track. The top ten must have been announced at the far end of Rotten Row. I hoped to the high heaven that we were still in the running. Anything could happen on a racetrack at night—ahorse could become lame, a rider could fall or be thrown, a contender could be edged out at the last moment. I wasn’t counting my chickens until I saw Nori for myself. If we’d made it to the next round, she would be cantering back shortly, and Blythe would be getting ready for the second race.

“So, what? You came to stop me?” I asked, glaring at Rafi and lifting a cool brow.

“Can anyone prevent you from doing anything once you get an idea in your head, my lady? You have always been extraordinarily headstrong,” he said with a long-suffering stare, though something soft in his voice hinted at fondness as if it was a quality he was resigned to admire. “If you intend on following through with this foolhardy plan, I came here to make sure you finish the race in one piece.”

“And how would you do that? By wrapping me in wool?”

“Don’t tempt me,” he replied in a low growl. “If anything happened to you, I—” He cleared his throat and glanced away. “Your brother would never forgive me.”

Stunned, I peered up at him, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze, and for a moment, I pondered what he’d been about to say before he’d broken off. Was Rafi worried about me ? No, he was simply looking out for his best mate’s little sister. He had to be doing this out of loyalty to Keston.

“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” Rafi asked.

“No.”

Just then, Nori cantered through the riders on the side of the track, her face bursting with victory. “Third place! We’re in for the next race!” Her gaze flicked to Rafi as she pulled alongside me and balked in instant recognition. “Mr. Nasser, I didn’t think you deigned to race Midnight Row anymore. Let me guess, you’re riding with my no-good, two-faced Janus of a brother tonight?”

He canted his head and sighed. “I am.”

“What!” I blurted. “No.”

“Afraid, Firefly?” His lip curled as my brain faltered over the peculiar nickname. Was he being facetious? “Good, you should be. I’ve won this race more times than any other aside from Rin, and I’m a legacy,” he said arrogantly. “Watch. Once the whistle blows, Blake will be tearing down the path with an easy lead.”

“Wait—Blake is here, too?”

But his reply was lost in the wind as a distant whistle echoed through the night, and the sound of thundering hooves and muted shouts reached us. Heart pounding, I dismounted from Ares and secured him in a quiet corner under a tree. I tunneled my way into a gap in the crowd where I could see the track. I’d told Nori to focus, and here I was unraveling like a spool of thread at the thought of being pitted against Rafi and Blake, both excellent equestrians.

When the first of the riders came into view at the half-mile marker with a substantial lead, I nearly groaned aloud. Lord Blake Castleton. As usual, he was grinning insufferably and waving to the crowd like a grandstanding showman instead of a jockey in the middle of a race. Arguably, Blake was the most entertaining of my brother’s friends, but right now I wanted to punch him. This was a game to him, whereas for us, it was the future of our school and an orphanage full of destitute children.

We had to win.

But my enthusiasm waned when I counted the next four horses in the lead, and Blythe was nowhere in sight. Her mount was russet brown, but in the guttering light, all the steeds’ coats looked the same, like mottled charcoal. I squinted at the riders, wondering if I’d missed her, which was easy to do.

“Do you see Blythe?” I shouted urgently over my shoulder to Nori, who had joined me on foot.

Her dismal expression mirrored mine. “No. Yes, I think…is that her…?” But her voice trailed off as we both counted up to seven. There was still no sign of our teammate. Had something happened? Had she fallen or missed the whistle?

Suddenly a horse broke from the pack, heading out on the outside, and my smile widened. “I see her.”

Her body was crouched low over her horse, her gallop so seamless that she and the stallion could be one creature. She ate up the yards, passing one rider, then another and another. Blythe only had to make the top five to qualify, but the determination on her face was clear.

“Good heavens, she’s incredible!” Nori crowed.

The distance between Blake and Blythe narrowed, and I could see him glance over his shoulder with surprise. He might lose in the last lengths, if he wasn’t careful.

“Go, B!” Nori roared at the top of her lungs, and I joined her, keeping my own voice pitched deep.

“Which team is that?” someone shouted to the right of me.

“One of the alternates,” another person answered.

Rafi bumped my arm. I’d forgotten he was here in all the excitement, and he, too, had joined Nori and me at the edge of the rail. “That rider’s seat is skilled,” he remarked, and lowered his voice. “Who is it?”

“None of your deuced business,” I replied, my smile so wide I could barely contain it.

Blythe remained in pursuit of Blake, and she’d clearly bided her time, knowing that her horse had the speed and stamina to bypass all the other challengers. A mile and a quarter wasn’t long, but a smart jockey knew when to push his mount. Or her mount, in this case. The two leaders were nearly to the finish line when Blythe’s hat flew off, and the gasps tore through the crowd as the waist-length coils of her hair unfurled.

My stomach sank—we were done for.