Page 50

Chapter

TWENTY-SIX

Sometimes, according to her big brother Stephen, the only way to deal with making a total arse of yourself (which he did often) was to simply take it on the chin.

Therefore, as Lottie arrived at the stables a little bit after sunrise—and undeniably more than a little bit thickheaded and mortified by her behavior—she greeted Guy’s wry, smug smile with a shrug.

“Rest assured that lessons have been learned and I shall be avoiding all cognac going forward. It clearly brings out the worst in me.”

Except it had actually brought out her. At least the part of her that wanted him in every which way possible.

Guy consumed her—her thoughts, her dreams, her emotions, her desires, her body—in a way no man had before.

After a fitful night of recrimination and soul-searching mixed with lust, she could not deny the feelings she had for him.

Sometime in the last week she had been speared by Cupid’s arrow and there was nothing she could do about it.

That she was leaving in a few days and they were separated in station by an ocean only made it all so bittersweet.

But she was here now, with him, and they were well on the way to parting as friends again, and that had to be enough.

“I obviously apologize for the…” Her index finger circled her mouth because she really didn’t want to have to talk about that kiss—because it had come from the heart.

Her heart and a few other, mostly lower, body parts that had decided to join in.

“As I just said, cognac is apparently my nemesis.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, chuckling now, as he finished saddling Juno, “it made you very entertaining. I thoroughly enjoyed all your swaying and slurring and swearing and impropriety.” His gaze briefly dropped to her mouth but thankfully he made no mention of the kiss either.

“However, if you are feeling too fragile this morning to compete, I do understand. You could save yourself the humiliation of a crushing defeat and simply concede now.”

“On the contrary, I feel much better about racing you with the handicap of a headache. I would have felt bad about not giving you some sort of concession this morning.” She sincerely hoped the crisp morning breeze would blow those alcohol-induced cobwebs out fast.

“Let’s have a pointless rundown of the rules,” said Bill, emerging from the tack room, regarding them both with an expression of bemusement.

“To try and avoid any broken necks or exploding tempers.” He waited for them to pay him their full attention.

“Rule one—” He held up his meaty hand to count them off on his fingers.

“If anyone starts before my signal, they are automatically disqualified and the win goes to the other. Rule two—no pushing, barging, or interfering with each other’s horse in any way.

” He stopped counting to wag a finger. “There will be no cheating.” He held up his hand again and raised his ring finger.

“Rule three—the first rider to touch the churchyard gatepost is the winner. And rule four—and this is the most important one—whoever loses is not allowed to murder the winner and bury their body in the woods to save face. If one of you doesn’t return, I shall personally call foul and then call the constable.

” He folded his arms. “Do you both agree to these rules?”

They nodded.

“Good. Then if you are both ready, make your way to the pasture so we can get this childish debacle over with.” Bill had already set off.

“Shouldn’t we warm up our mounts first?” With a little drummer boy drumming away with enthusiasm in her head, Lottie needed a couple more minutes of fresh air to feel ready. “We don’t want to do either of them a mischief.”

“Already done.” Guy regarded her wryly, as if he could hear what her drummer was drumming to.

“Some of us were here bang on sunrise, after all, as stipulated.” Then he shot her a positively sinful smile before he leaned down with cupped hands to give her a boost. “Juno, Zeus, and I are all warmed up and raring to go.”

“Splendid.” Rather than let him see how inconvenient that was, Lottie grabbed the reins and hoisted herself up without his help. “Then may the best rider win.”

“I will, Miss Travers .”

She tried not to watch him mount Zeus, but because Guy’s muscles did wonderful things as he climbed onto a horse, she couldn’t help looking. Then looked some more as he led the way out of the stable yard because, honestly, his backside was a thing of beauty.

“It’s a mile and a half across mostly flat country to St. Eanswythe’s.

” Bill pointed to the church’s steeple on the misty morning horizon.

“And the ground is good, so hopefully, you’ll return in one piece.

In case one of you doesn’t, know that I disapprove of this race, so expect no sympathy from me while the poor physician has to put you back together or if the undertaker has to lower your broken remains into your grave. ”

“Duly noted,” said an impatient Guy. “Now can we get on with it?”

“Just one more thing.” Bill folded his arms and gave them both a stern look, but with a naughty twinkle in his eye. “Do you need me or one of the maids to follow behind for the sake of propriety?”

Guy gestured to her breeches-clad thighs with a snort. “I think that ship sailed when Miss Travers forgot to put on her skirt this morning, don’t you?”

“On your own heads be it then.” Bill winked as he herded them to the starting line he had marked with handfuls of straw and, once satisfied they were both level, raised his handkerchief in the air.

“On your marks, get set…” He paused for dramatic effect as both riders bent low, then paused some more. “GO!”

Being the most amiable of the two Arabians, Juno started quicker and was already flying by the time Lottie reached the boundary between the pasture and the next field.

But no sooner had she passed through the gate than Guy and Zeus jumped the fence.

By the look of determination on both of those faces, Lottie knew this wasn’t going to be an easy race.

But if they could jump fences, so could she, and she was a lighter load than Guy.

She nudged Juno faster and, spotting a huddle of grazing sheep in the distance, changed direction early to avoid them. A decision that put him temporarily in the lead, but which paid dividends when she hit a gloriously flat and unobstructed path that cut right through the next hedge.

Guy, on the other hand, decided to continue riding as the crow flew for longer than he should have, making the sheep shatter hither and thither when the ferocious Zeus jumped the hedge into their field and made them panic.

A decision that gave him some unexpected obstacles to dodge, which slowed him down.

Lottie couldn’t resist laughing at his mistake over her shoulder as she shot past, then almost rued her hubris as she turned back to find that the path curved and the next gate was shut.

It came up too fast and she only managed to jump it by the skin of her teeth, but already Guy was hot on her heels.

With the St. Eanswythe’s steeple looming ever closer and her pride at stake, she had to dig down deep to keep her lead.

Her opponent was an exemplary horseman and Zeus was, despite his stubborn temperament, an exceptional horse.

Probably one of the finest specimens that Lottie had ever seen.

His powerful legs made short work of her lead and he gained on her with every step.

The path petered out and gave way to a couple hundred yards of the stubby, harvested stalks of wheat that were yet to be plowed in, forcing both riders to slow some.

Then they both veered in different directions to avoid the dense clump of trees enmeshed in the next hedge before they could find a suitable section to jump.

Thankfully, after that, it was pasture again, pretty much all the way down the gently sloping incline to the village.

“Come on, girl!” Lottie used her heels to encourage Juno to pull out all the stops for this last half mile and several yards to her left, Guy was doing the same. As their paths converged again, they were pretty much neck and neck.

She risked turning to check his progress and caught Guy grinning at her. She grinned back, then a bubble of joyous laughter burst out as the last remnants of summer sun finally burned through the dawn clouds and bathed them in warmth.

And he did the same. Tilting his handsome face to the sky to soak it all in. Both of them loving and living in this moment, and as well matched as riders as it was possible to be.

Lottie could have happily lived in the moment forever.

But like all good things, it had to end, and suddenly the church gates beckoned, and things got serious again.

In the final seconds they pushed themselves and the Arabians to the absolute limit and, kicking up clouds of dust, they charged through the opening together.

Simultaneously standing on their stirrups to slap the wooden archway as they thundered through it.

Guy slowed. “That was a bloody draw, wasn’t it?

” He was trying to look peeved but his eyes, alight with the excitement of the ride, made his angry expression unconvincing.

He had thoroughly enjoyed himself and it showed.

He was rumpled and windswept and so in his element it was a joy to behold.

The jaded, guarded curmudgeon was nowhere to be seen this morning and so this was one of the memories of him that she would most treasure after she left.

The man she was probably in love with doing what he loved and letting her see his true self in the process. “We hit that gate together.”

“Sadly, I think we did.” Lottie grinned as she gulped in some air, her lungs burning from all the exertion but elated, nevertheless. “But it was the best fun I’ve had in ages.”