Page 103 of Second Duke's the Charm
A series of gaily striped tents lined the periphery of the course, with vendors selling everything from spiced cider to honeyed almonds. There were games of pitch-and-toss and a woman telling fortunes, and even a raffle where the owner of the winning ticket could win a handsome four-wheeled post chaise. The air was abuzz with a sense of jollity and excitement.
“Fool For Love has been entered into the Noblemen and Gentlemen’s sweepstakes at three o’clock,” Ellie said, studying the race timetable. “The prize is a gold cup worth one hundred guineas.”
Tess snorted. “There’s no chance of winning that. What on earth was Justin thinking to insist the poor thing be raced?”
She slanted a look across to the opposite side of the racecourse, where an area had been set aside for the competitors and their grooms. The horse Justin had apparently bought for her was tied to the back of a cart, being brushed by a small stable lad in a cap.
“He looks healthier than I’d expected,” Ellie said, with her usual boundless optimism. “I mean, his coat is shiny and he’s more than just skin and bone. He’s a handsome-looking horse.”
“But hardly winning material,” Tess said with a frown. “He hasn’t won a race for the past two seasons. Is Justin trying to humiliate me? I don’t understand.”
“I don’t think that’s his aim,” Daisy said slowly. “After all, he claims to be in love with you. Embarrassing you in public is hardly likely to convince you he’s telling the truth.”
Tess shook her head. Last week, when she’d seen Justin’s distinctive scrawl on the letter informing her that he’d purchased Fool For Love, she hadn’t known what to think. She’d been missing him so much that even receiving a note from him made her heart beat in a dangerously irregular rhythm.
When she’d put the sheet to her nose, she could have sworn she could smell an echo of his distinctive scent, and her stomach had clenched in misery.
But a flutter of hope had stirred in her, too. He hadn’t abandoned London for Bristol, or boarded one of his shipsand sailed halfway across the world to avoid her. Any indication that she was still in his thoughts was a positive sign. Even if she didn’t understand his intentions.
He’d requested her presence at the weekend’s races at Stamford, and Tess had eagerly complied. The chance to see him again had kept her awake for most of the night, and now she was here she was almost quivering with nerves.
She’d never spent so long worrying about her appearance, and it had taken three different changes before she finally settled on the summer dress of white cotton with a floral design picked out in silver thread.
“Who owns the other horses in the race?” Ellie asked.
Tess studied the race sheet. “There’s Ghost, owned by Lord Burlington, Twist owned by Lord Fitzwilliam, and Kestrel owned by the Marquis of Exeter. There’s also Arbiter, owned by Lord Grosvenor, and a horse called Sweet Lips, owned by a Mr. Watson.”
“That’s definitely named for a lady,” Daisy chuckled. “I wonder if Sweet Lips is his wife, or his mistress.”
“Ghost, the gray, is by far the favorite,” Ellie said. “I’ve been listening to the bookmakers taking the bets. He’s won three of the last four races he’s entered.”
“And Fool For Love has the longest odds of all.” Tess shook her head.
At that moment an audible buzz began to ripple around the crowd and she glanced over toward the betting stands run by the bookmakers known as blacklegs, due to the high top-boots they always wore.
Her heart stilled as the crowd parted and she glimpsed Justin, shaking hands with another gentleman and surrounded by a group of several others. His smile made her ache, and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his tall, lean figure.
He was dressed in an exquisitely cut coat of blue superfine, with buff breeches and a white cravat, and a pair of boots so well polished they couldn’t possibly have been the same ones the puppy Oliver had abused.
Tess drank in the sight of him, and it was only Daisy’s hushed whisper that brought her out of her reverie.
“Your husband has placed the most outrageous bet.”
Tess tore her gaze away. “What?”
“It’s all anyone can talk about. He just placed a bet of two hundred pounds with each of those five blacklegs for Fool For Love to win the three o’clock race.”
Tess’s mouth fell open in shock. “Are you sure? Surely he bet on him tolose.”
Daisy shook her head with a grin. “I’m sure. A thousand pounds total, to win. And that’s not all. I just saw your cousin Edward, Ellie, and he told me that Justin’s also put a bet in the book at White’s. If Fool For Love loses, he’ll pay every single member of White’s ten pounds.”
Tess gasped. “He’s going to lose a fortune. How many members of White’s are there?”
“Edward says at least two hundred and eighty. It’s usually around three hundred.”
“Dear God. The man’s lost his mind. Fool For Love is bound to come in last, which means he’ll lose not just the thousand pounds he’s bet here today, but also anotherthree thousandto the members of his club. What is hethinking?”
Daisy couldn’t seem to stop smiling. She looked almost gleeful with excitement. “I don’t think he’s thinking at all. At least, not with his head. And not with his cock, either. I think for the first time ever he’s letting hisheartmake the decisions.”