The Viscount's Sweet Temptation (8 page)

Knightwick made a strangled noise and straightened, staring across the paddock. “What is he doing here?”

Without looking, David knew whom his brother had spotted. “I wondered the same thing. From what I overheard, it appears Northcotte has a horse entered in one of the courses today.”

“Why did the Jockey Club allow him to enter?”

“What reason do they have to block him? No one charged him with anything. He can race any horse he owns, just like the rest of us.”

Rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth, as if wiping away a bad taste, Knightwick said, “I don’t trust him. Tell Peter to stay with Triton at all times, even sleep in the stalls. I’ll go find Nick and make sure he stays with Lass.”

“You can’t think he’d be foolish enough to try anything after the inquiry last year.”

“Someone stole Zephyr six years ago and then killed him, and two of our horses turned up sick last year. I don’t know who is behind it, but we can’t take any chances. We must be on our guard whether Northcotte is at a race meeting or not.”

~*~

Lady Joanna Hurst stood at the empty stall where she’d left her three-year-old colt, Patriot, a short while earlier. The groom’s uniform was missing along with her horse. “Robert,” she spat out as if it were a curse. She tossed aside the trousers she’d stolen from her brother’s room at the inn. Robert had followed through on his words and found someone to ride Patriot
.

What an inopportune time for him to begin following through on anything! All her work training Patriot would be for naught if Robert prevented her from riding him in the race. She was certain she could pass herself off to the officials as a young lad. Her own mother had mistaken her for a stable boy often enough when she wore trousers to work with the horses.

Mama had barred her from entering the stables for a week after the first time she found her thus, but as Mama rarely ventured down there, she didn’t see Joanna return to work the next day. To train a horse properly, one must sit astride. There was no way around it. And wearing trousers was the only way to sit correctly.

None of that mattered at the moment, however. Patriot must win today. Her horse would do anything she asked of it, except be ridden by a groom he didn’t know. She searched her mind for something she could do to help her horse through the change in rider at this late hour, but came up empty.

Grateful the mud from recent rains had dried, Joanna rushed off as quickly as her boot heels would allow in the rough dirt. It was too late to convince Robert to let her ride, but perhaps talking to Patriot would calm him. Patriot always listened to her.

Unlike her brother, the horse had some sense.

As luck would have it, Robert was talking to a pair of men near the paddock. She bit back an indelicate curse she’d learned from the grooms
.
She had to keep her temper controlled. Schooling her features into a smile suitable for the most fashionable drawing room, she strolled up and slipped her hand around her brother’s arm. She spoke in a voice rich with treacle. “There you are, brother. I’ve been searching for you.”

The look he slanted warned her against causing a disruption. She batted her lashes in response. “I’m so excited to watch our horse compete. I couldn’t sit any longer. I had to come look for him.”

The other two gentlemen nodded. “The thrill of the race is undeniable,” one agreed.

She didn’t recognize them. They appeared to be a few years beyond her brother’s thirty years
.
The second man, a thin, dark-haired scarecrow with white side-whiskers, peered down his hawkish nose at her and lifted an imperial brow, but said nothing.

Robert patted her fingers with enough force to ring out like a slap. “A lady doesn’t belong here by the paddock. You might damage those lovely kidskin boots I bought you. Mother must be wondering where you are.”

He looked across the paddock toward the grandstands. Suddenly his features went slack and he cursed beneath his breath. Joanna followed his line of sight and spied two men who appeared to be watching their little group. She could make out their features, but didn’t recognize them. Turning to question Robert, she was interrupted before she had the chance to speak.

Her brother took her arm roughly and nodded to his companions. “Gentlemen, I’ll look for you after the event. If you will excuse me, I must make certain my mother does not want for anything. Come along, Joanna, dear.”

As if she had any choice. She took two steps for each of her brother’s strides and still she was being dragged. “Please slow down. Who were those men you were speaking with?”

“Business associates. No one you need know. You must at least make a pretense at behaving like a lady when we are in public, if you are ever to marry. I’ll tell Mother you are to remain at her side, or you won’t be allowed to attend any future race meetings.”

Allowed to attend
…the very words made her blood boil. Just a few years ago
,
Robert was her playmate, or so he let her believe. The distance in their ages meant they hadn’t truly been close, with him away at school by the time she was old enough to remember. But when he was home, he’d taught her chess and various card games and made her feel important. He often rode the countryside with her and never once chastised her for riding astride.

Lately she felt more like an obligation, one he was searching to end. The pressure he put on her to marry was quite unbearable. And the restrictions he imposed on her time with their horses were her biggest concern. A life without horses was truly not to be borne.

“Robert, please let me catch my breath. Mama will assume I am ill if I appear before her flushed and breathless.” She tugged again on the arm he still gripped.

His hand relaxed. “I’m sorry. But I’m only looking out for your best interests.”

“My best interests would be met by having Patriot win today.”

“As would mine, but I’ll not allow you to ride him in the race, so this is the end of that discussion. A disqualification would be worse than a loss, going forward. Now, there is Mother in the coffee house, sitting at the window. Please humor me and stay with her until I come for you both at the end of the day. Wallis will escort you two to the grandstand when it’s time for Patriot’s match.”

Joanna bit her tongue on all the retorts that came to mind. Of course Robert would send his groom to take them to watch the race, and not be bothered to do so himself. Just more proof she was a burden and not a pleasant companion. She entered the crowded eating establishment and made her way to the small table where Mama sat with her maid. Letting go of the last of her frustrations, Joanna smiled at them. “How are the scones? Did you save me any?”

“Of course, dear girl.” Her mother’s sweet, round face looked pale in the morning light streaming through the window. Her blue eyes seemed as faded as the blonde hair showing beneath the edges of the black bonnet she’d continued to wear after her year of mourning had passed. “I admit, however, I was tempted to eat these last two if you hadn’t arrived soon.”

Mama poured tea for Joanna and handed her the cup. When they’d left the inn that morning, Joanna told her mother she would meet her shortly after checking on Patriot. Discovering Bruce was ill, followed by her muddled attempt to replace him as rider in the race, delayed her more than an hour. Mama must have requested a fresh pot of tea, as the drink was still quite warm, and it took away the chill of the morning air.

“How is your horse this morning?” Mama didn’t understand Joanna’s passion, but she humored it.

“He’s frisky and eager to run. But his groom isn’t. I fear Patriot won’t perform well with another boy on his back.”

“Oh, dear. And you’ve put so much time in his training. But this is only the first of many races. He’ll have his day.”

Yes, Patriot would do well in the future, but her main concern was whether Robert would continue to let her attend race meetings, or if she must wait to hear reports of his activities
.
She would simply expire from worry if she couldn’t watch Patriot compete. She glanced at the clock on the wall, then sighed. She still had hours to wait for the racing to begin.

Joanna contemplated her mother again. The dark circles beneath her eyes were not as prominent today. “I’m very pleased you came with me to the race meeting.”

“I always enjoyed the races with your father. I’m happy to chaperone you here.”

Her words sounded earnest enough, and her face didn’t contradict them, but given the weeks where Mother would not even join them for meals, Joanna wondered what had brought about this gay mood. She would not press the issue, however. She would simply enjoy her mother’s company for as long as she had it.

Chapter Two

From the grandstand at the end of the Rowley Mile course, David waited to hear the roar of the crowd telling him the horses drew near
.
He tried to think of anything but Northcotte, to quell the acid burning in his stomach
.
Lass was entered in this event, and though she’d appeared small and slight when she’d warmed up next to the other horses, David could see she was ready to compete.

He fidgeted in his seat, straining to see down the course, watching for the flash of yellow and orange. He heard the increasing sound of thunder as they grew close.

Knightwick sat silently beside him, but his arms unfolded and he leaned forward in his seat when the noise grew louder
.
The runners appeared at the rise of the hill two furlongs out, and David spotted orange. Lass was gaining on Whiskey, passing his flank. “Atta girl
,
” David called out.

She surged the next furlong on the downhill side into the Dip, getting a nose out beyond Whiskey and catching up to Fair Star. As they climbed the final furlong uphill, Lass closed in on Robin in second place. Canopus held the lead, right up to the finish.

The judge called out the winning colors for the first three places, with Lass’s orange and yellow coming in third.

Knightwick grinned and clapped David on the back. “Fine run. She did us proud in her first race.”

David sat back in his seat, the tension of the day finally breaking. Now he could enjoy the rest of the races, knowing the meeting was not going to be a total loss. “She did do well, didn’t she? Peter promised me she would. She and Triton both. We’ll see how the colt does.”

“I wish Father were here to see this.” Knightwick’s voice barely reached David’s ears under the crowd’s excited chatter.

“I do, too. Maybe if Triton wins, it will bring Father around.”

For the past five years, David and Knightwick had been attending the race meetings without their father, the Earl of Bridgethorpe. The year before that, their prize stud horse, a tall, well-muscled black called Zephyr, had been stolen from the Southampton Race Meeting, and found dead in a nearby field two weeks later
.
The three of them had attended the remaining races that year while waiting to hear the culprit had been caught
.
No one had seen anything out of the norm, or if they had, the man in question held such power and position that no one would speak up.

Over the following winter, Bridgethorpe lost the determination to continue the search. “It’s no good, boys. My heart’s just not strong enough.”

The last time he’d seen his father, David feared he would not live to see summer. The old man sat at his desk each day, staring out the window at whatever held his gaze. It was most likely something in Father’s mind, not the bleak gray weather and leafless trees beyond the glass. He’d grown thin, his pallor more pronounced, and he often had a tremor in his right hand.

Knightwick nudged David’s arm, pulling his thoughts back to the racecourse. “Are you going to meet Peter at the weigh-in? Collect your winnings?”

“What? Oh, no.” He shook his head and grinned. “I’m not done winning today.”

He was determined to send home news of a first place before the weeklong event was through. A win was what they needed to bring their father back to life.

~*~

Joanna grew restless in the grandstand as the day passed. She longed to be with Patriot, wherever he was. In the past, she’d attended various race meetings with her family and lost herself in the market tents, rather than watching other people’s horses compete. The fortuneteller was always a fun diversion, even if the grand love she predicted for Joanna had a different description for the gentleman each time she visited the woman.

Not for her were the evening balls and theatricals enjoyed by the other young women and men while in Newmarket, either. Now, all she cared about were her family’s horses and how well they ran. Her mother would faint if she were aware of how much time Joanna spent at the course’s stables when she claimed she was investigating the ribbon vendor’s booth, or the town bookstore. Her maid, Molly, was easily bribed with a new bonnet or packet of sweets, and Joanna had a feeling the young woman took advantage of some of that time to flirt with a certain groom
.

Being required to sit the entire afternoon was too much to bear. “Mama, may I find Molly and go rest until Patriot’s event? I don’t wish to watch every sweepstakes and race. I cannot tell the horses apart, so it’s of no interest to me.”

“Be still, dear girl. Your horse will run soon. We have only two sweepstakes to go before the Oatlands Stakes. If you leave now you mightn’t return in time.”

Joanna chewed on her lower lip, unconcerned her mother could see her. Her horse needed her, of that she was certain. How was he handling the excitement, the crowds? The knot in her stomach had been growing all day, and she would never be able to eat supper if it didn’t loosen soon.

The individuals who’d left their seats in the grandstand rushed to return, so word must have come the next race was lining up at the starting post a mile down the course. Joanna watched the men file down the rows, not really seeing faces, not really interested in who they were.

Until
he
appeared.

Taller than most men, yet not quite as tall as his companion, the gentleman with wavy chestnut hair made his way toward his seat in the center of one of the lower rows. He spoke to various people he passed, his smile friendly, open. He was not the most handsome man she’d ever seen, but something about him made her wish they were at an assembly where she could coerce an introduction from their hostess.