Page 27 of My Secret Duke
T he sun was yet to rise when Ivo set out. As expected, there was nobody of consequence about. A few traders preparing for the day ahead, their shops still in darkness, while servants hurried to the market to fetch breakfast for the household. One inebriated gentleman was zigzagging his way home after a long night out, his stumbling steps almost sending him sprawling onto the cobbles. Ivo’s gray horse, Star, moved restlessly as the gent staggered away, but Ivo controlled him with the ease of long practice. They were both impatient to be getting on with things.
The mist was knee-deep in the park, encircling the tree trunks and giving an eerie feeling to the place. A number of riders exercising their horses passed him, barely giving him a glance. They were grooms from a nearby stable, calling to each other and sharing tales of the night before.
Was she coming? Yesterday, pricked by his conscience, Ivo had sent a note to Olivia, asking if she would rather defer their “arrangement.” It would give her a chance to bow out without losing face. But instead of grabbing hold of his offer with both hands, Olivia had sent him a swift reply that brought a smile to his lips.
Definitely not!
He was glad she was going ahead with the race, even if he was certain to win. Thinking about their dare had made his days brighter, not just distracting him from his worries about Mystere and Lieutenant Harrison, but giving him hope that feelings between himself and Olivia might deepen. Having her as his friend was a great deal better than not having her at all, but if he was honest, then “friendship” was not what he wanted.
He wanted to see her every day across the breakfast table, and kiss that sulky droop from her lips. He wanted to lie in bed with her and hold her, protect her—yes, sometimes from herself—and live each day with her by his side.
To imagine her marrying the prince or anyone else filled him with an urgent need to win her for himself before it was too late. His heart didn’t appear to be swayed by the obstacles before it. Olivia was perfect for him, and him for her, and if that made him an arrogant ass, then so be it.
Star tossed his head again, whinnying as he sensed another rider approaching. Alert, Ivo spotted movement from the street, although the mist was still thick enough to make it difficult to make anything out. Slowly, one rider appeared, and then another. He did not recognize them at first, but as they drew closer, his eyes widened, and he chuckled.
One of the riders was definitely Olivia dressed in mannish attire. He would know her anywhere, despite the voluminous coat covering her pocket Venus curves, and her hair bundled up under a cap. The other rider was also disguised as a man, but it was only when she lifted her head to meet his gaze that he realized it was Roberta.
Olivia was riding what Ivo called a “plodder.” An old mare who could barely manage a shuffle. Surely she wasn’t intending to race him on that ? He’d reach the finish line before she had barely started. His gaze turned to Roberta’s mount, and he eyed it admiringly. That was more the thing. Was Roberta going to race him instead of her sister? That would be disappointing, but he was willing to be accommodating, since Olivia had come to their rendezvous.
“Ladies!” he greeted them in a cheery voice as they stopped in front of him.
Olivia glanced up, her blue eyes wary. “Northam,” she replied, and self-consciously tucked a loose strand of hair back in place. She darted a nervous glance about her. Was she expecting to see some disapproving members of the ton lined up at the starting line? He wished he could teach her not to care so much about others’ opinions, because she really would be much happier if she did as she pleased and forgot about the so-called rule makers.
“Northam.” Roberta was grinning at him from beneath her own cap, as if they were about to embark on a wonderful adventure. She cast an admiring glance over Star. “Is he fast?” she asked.
“Very.”
“Never mind,” she said, with a quick glance at Olivia. “He can’t be as fast as Arrow.”
Ivo shifted his gaze to Olivia’s animal and raised his eyebrows.
Roberta scoffed. “That’s not Arrow! That’s Mable.”
Olivia glared at both of them and gave the old mare a loving pat. “Shh, she’ll hear you.”
Ivo bit his lip, refraining from asking if a creature that old could hear much at all.
Roberta dismounted with practiced ease, while Olivia dismounted with awkward effort. The two women moved close to confer, and Ivo waited patiently, amused at the sight. A woman rider on a black mare trotted by, and she gave them a curious glance.
“We need to get on,” he said. “We do not want an audience.”
The two sisters exchanged a glance, and then Olivia reluctantly moved away from patient old Mable and came to stand by Arrow. But Roberta had a firm hold of the reins and couldn’t help her sister to mount the much bigger animal. Seeing the problem, Ivo jumped down.
“Here,” he said, and made a step with his joined hands.
Olivia gave him a look he found hard to interpret, though fear and trepidation seemed to be two of the components. She needed a distraction, and he was happy to supply it. The coat only hid so much of her body, and she was wearing tight breeches. A bolt of lust went through him as he let himself enjoy the swell of her hips, the nip of her waist, and the plump globes of her breasts beneath her white shirt.
“Very fetching,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky growl.
She narrowed her eyes and jammed her booted foot into the grip of his hands. The next moment, she was in the saddle. Arrow gave a nervous dance, but Roberta’s calming murmurs settled him again. She handed her sister the reins, keeping a tight grip on the halter. Olivia took a deep breath, wriggling to get comfortable.
“Olivia,” Ivo said, no longer able to keep his doubts to himself, “are you sure you want to—”
She shot him a look full of daggers as she cut him off. “Ready, Northam?”
Ivo remounted Star, and they made their way to the start of the popular riding track called Rotten Row. There was a low wooden fence on either side of the prepared surface, with plenty of room for them to ride abreast. During the day, there were often curious strollers standing outside the fence, watching the toffs showing off on their pedigreed animals. Not this early though. Even the grooms had moved on. The place was empty.
Roberta gave her sister her final instructions. “Remember what I told you. Hold on. That’s all you need to do. Hold on. Arrow will do the rest.”
Olivia nodded jerkily, her face pale beneath her cap. She swallowed, her eyes flicking to Ivo, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
“Are we ready?” Roberta said with a frown for her sister. “Will I start you off?”
“Count down from five,” Ivo suggested.
Arrow moved uneasily beneath his inexperienced rider. Olivia’s knuckles were white where she had twisted her fingers into the horse’s mane. Roberta had barely started the count when Arrow took off, and Olivia was flying down the thoroughfare, her borrowed coat flapping like wings.
With a shout of laughter, Ivo gave Star his head, and whatever Roberta called out after him was lost in the excitement of the moment.
Arrow was fast. Roberta was right about that, and now he had been given his head, there was no stopping him. Ivo wondered if the two women had thought about what would happen when Olivia reached the end of the race. Was she going to jump the fence into Kensington Palace? At least, from the way she was lying flat against Arrow’s back, clinging on to him like a limpet, there was no chance of her falling off.
The greenery to the side whizzed past, but there could have been a marching band playing in their honor, and Ivo would have paid it no heed. He only had eyes for Olivia, her small body was pressed tight to the large horse, and he wanted to call out to tell her how wonderful she was. How brave and beautiful. But she wouldn’t have heard him anyway.
Mist eddied about the horses’ hooves as they thundered along Rotten Row. They were neck and neck. He heard himself laughing with delight, because right now, there was nothing more exciting than pitting himself against this girl. He didn’t care whether he won or lost. All he wanted was to have Olivia in his life.
The end of the riding track was in sight. Their horses were still abreast, and Ivo knew they would need to slow very soon. Olivia had more than fulfilled her part of the challenge, but she showed no sign of pulling up, and Arrow was not going to stop on his own, so Ivo edged closer and reached across the gap between them. He fumbled for Arrow’s reins. When their hands touched, Olivia gave a breathy gasp and turned to stare at him, her eyes huge in her white face.
“It’s over.” He raised his voice to be heard.
As Arrow began to slow, Olivia sat up straighter and looked around her, as if realizing for the first time where they were. Had her eyes been closed for the entire race? Ivo drew the horses up, and finally, they came to a halt, their sides heaving. Ivo was flushed and breathless. It had been one of the most exciting experiences of his life, and he had had a few.
“You’re amazing,” he said, and his smile was so broad that it hurt his cheeks. Her eyes clung to his, bluer than he had ever seen them. “You’re brave and—and wonderful!”
“I was scared witless,” she admitted with a grimace.
Ivo edged closer, wanting to touch her but holding back.
“At least Arrow has finally stopped,” she went on. “Roberta said he was fast, but I had no idea.”
Ivo laughed, and they continued to stare at each other, the excitement bubbling in their veins. It was as if they were meeting for the first time but without hiding their true feelings.
“Is it always like this?” she asked him, a little shyly. “Do you always feel like this?”
He shook his head in wonderment. “No. Never like this.”
She didn’t seem to know how to answer that. Her hair had come loose, and she tried to push it back under her cap. Then, as if suddenly remembering what the race was all about, she said, “Ivo, did I win?”