“We’ll that’s an interesting question.” Edward laughed. “We’ll just have to wait and see now, won’t we?”
Annalee squeezed Diana’s hand. “Let us just hope Hew and the mare have a great run.”
The contenders jigged and pranced to the starting post, six sleek and snorting specimens of muscle and sinew. At the starting signal, the pack bolted, their thunderous iron-shod hooves quaking the ground and hurling projectiles of turf heavenward in a unified stampede that in mere seconds was lost on the horizon. Edward pulled out his timepiece. “By my reckoning, the herd should come back into view in about two minutes.”
To Diana, it seemed an eternity.
The same earth-shaking rumble preceded the herd. Diana shaded her eyes as she strained to determine the color of the lead horse and the jockey’s silks. There were two riders neck-and-neck, lengths ahead of the rest as they approached the finish. Diana perched at the edge of her seat, her heart galloping in rhythm with the hammering hoof beats to see an emerald green rider on a lanky, dappled grey and a red and gold jockey on a horse the color of copper. It was Hew! With just a few furlongs to go, Diana’s fists were clenched, her nails gouging the flesh of her palms. She held her breath until she was lightheaded, and still, they battled for the finish. With only yards to go, she could bear it no longer; she closed her eyes on a prayer.
“She did it!” Annalee shrieked. “Diana, your horse has won her race!”
***
The two DeVeres dismounted at the stables, handing off their respective horses for hot walking whilst bantering and chiding one another in true brotherly fashion. With a number of lesser matches taking place before the event culmination, Ludovic had planned a grand al fresco nuncheon at Woodcote Park for the owners and other eminent guests, but now all he could think of was Diana and how soon he might get her back in his bed.
She was a damned handsome woman and an enthusiastic lover, but there was much more than that. Something about her appealed to him at a distinctly visceral level he had never experienced. Perhaps it was the raw honesty of her emotions, the vulnerability that she tried so hard to conceal. Whatever it was incited a peculiar and contradictory impulse to both exploit and protect her.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so bloody distracted by a woman. He’d barely been able to concentrate on his earlier ride. He would be in no condition to ride against Hew unless he could somehow manage to get her alone for a surreptitious fuck in the interim between races. Surely that would take the edge off. He returned to the house eager to engineer just that, but was waylaid by well-wishers.
“That was quite a ride, Vic!” Ned clapped him on the back. “Can’t decide where to lay my money now between you and Hew.”
“There’s really no question, Ned. Although the mare’s a superior specimen of her gender, she’s no match for the stallion.”
“Don’t let Diana hear you say so! She’s convinced the prize money is already in her pocket.”
“Is she now?” DeVere smiled at the unintentional segue to his subject of most interest. “And just where is the proud owner? I should like to offer my congratulations.”
“She and Annalee went up to refresh before nuncheon.”
“I think I’ll do the same.” He turned to his brother. “Hew, pray fill in for me. I’ll return shortly.”
“Right-oh, brother mine. You might, indeed, need to rest that decrepit body before we meet on the field.”
“Decrepit, my arse,” DeVere replied. “I’ll trounce you as usual, insolent whelp!”
“We’ll see about that, Vic. I have powerful yen for those colors you promised me.” Hew grinned and swaggered off.
“He would do the dragoons justice, you know,” Ned remarked.
“They’d be damned lucky to have him,” Ludovic agreed. “But he’s my heir, and the war is going badly. If anything should happen to him…”
“You surprise me with your protective streak, but Hew needs to be his own man now.”
“I know,” Ludovic said. “That’s why I’ll eventually concede, but I don’t intend to make it easy for him.”
“No, I don’t imagine you would!” Ned laughed.
***
“The footman brought a message for you, my lady,” Polly said.
“Thank you.” Diana accepted the foolscap. Noting nothing to identify the sender, she broke the plain, wax seal.
My private study –D.
Her hands trembled slightly as she refolded the note and slid it into the pocket of her petticoat.
“Is sommat amiss?” Polly asked at her mistress’s frown.
“No, nothing of import,” Diana replied with a blithe smile. “But I won’t be changing my gown quite yet. I have a small matter to attend to first.”