Taming the Duke (28 page)

“You?” Olivia almost dropped her teacup. “Why…that’s quite impossible, my dear.”

“Why? I’ve been riding and training horses since I was eight years old. When my grandfather was alive, some of England’s greatest jockeys trained at Marston Heath. I watched and learned from the best-”

“I’m sure you have,” Olivia said gently.

Alicia lowered her voice “—if I dressed as a man, I know I could ride Bashshar to victory. But there’s one problem I haven’t worked out yet.” Alicia paused to refill Olivia’s teacup. “Dalton would know as soon as he read Bashshar’s name on the roster that I was the jockey. There’s no possible way I could surprise him.”

Olivia’s eyes lit with an idea. “I’m not so sure. I remember Robert speaking of a mystery entry who
won several important races on the continent a few years ago. The horse was disguised in colored silks and the jockey was masked.” Her eyes danced with excitement. “What if you did the same?”

“A secret entry? Do you think it might work?”

“I’ll ask Robert. His cousin, Lord Teddy, is one of the pillars of the Jockey Club and would help us, I’m sure.”

Alicia recalled the distinguished-looking gentleman. “Thank you for offering, but I wonder what Dalton might think.”

Olivia looked genuinely surprised. “Alicia, that doesn’t sound like you. Besides, Dalton trusts you completely. What better way to show him that Bashshar is cured than to ride him to victory.” Her smile beamed. “And if anyone can do it, Alicia, you can, my dear.”

Alicia’s heart swelled with hope. “I’d do anything to prove that Bashshar is healed. I want this so much for Dalton.”

Olivia clapped her hands. “Then it’s settled. Besides, I’ve always wanted to surprise my brother. Ever since I was a child—” she feigned a scowl and lowered her voice “—Dalton has always guessed my surprises.” Her smile caused two dimples in her cheeks. “But this time, we’ll fool him.” She laughed again. “Let me speak to Robert immediately.”

The following afternoon, Dalton passed the music room and stopped when he heard his wife humming. He peeked inside and stood watching
her arrange yellow tea roses, her lovely face intent on her work.

He recognized the melody of their favorite waltz, and her merry humming brought a special warmth to his heart, a feeling still new to him. In fact, for the past five weeks, two days and nine hours since their marriage, Alicia had brought a greater depth of feeling into his life than he’d thought possible.

She’d infused her magic throughout the ancestral house of Wexton with her special touch. From the bedroom candles scented with his favorite sandalwood to the ubiquitous vases of flowers throughout the rooms, Alicia had transformed the chilly formality of Havencrest into a warm and gracious home.

She had put her special touches on him, too. From their first joining, he knew he would never be the same. From his first waking moment, he could hardly wait to see her rapturous face as he made passionate love with her. How his heart yearned to watch her melt with desire. But it was more than physical passion. Alicia was his heart.

The realization crushed down on him.
He was in love with her
. Dear God, but it was true. He’d never thought it was possible, but somehow, this lovely, incredible young woman had stolen his heart.

“What are you thinking, Dalton?” she called out, sniffing a golden bloom. “You’re staring at me with a strange look on your face.

He feigned a serious frown. “I was mentally weighing the agricultural merits of turnips as a
spring crop,” he said, unable to hide the teasing from his voice.

Her laughter sounded like tiny bells. “You had that far-off look in your eyes,” she said, her brown eyes twinkling. “And I don’t think it was turnips that were on your mind.”

He rounded the piano and came beside her. “How well you know me,” he said, taking her hand. But he felt too vulnerable to admit how very much she meant to him.

As if she sensed his thoughts, her eyes lowered in a demure gesture as she smiled.

“What brings such a happy smile to your lips, my darling? Thoughts of your husband, perhaps?” he whispered in her ear.

“Actually, yes.” She tilted her head up and looked steadily at him. “But it’s a surprise and I can’t tell you.”

“Hmm, a surprise?” He ran a finger along the nape of her neck. “I know about my birthday celebration. Are you planning something else?”

Her lovely eyes filled with laughter. “I’ll give you one hint,” she said, sliding into his embrace. “It’s something Robert is arranging, and I won’t give you any more hints.”

“Robert, eh? Then my sister must know. I’ll ask her.”

Alicia pursed her brow together in mock horror. “You will behave yourself and ask no more questions.” Her arms twined around his neck as he tasted the delicate soft hollow of her throat. His
mouth lowered and he felt a shudder of pleasure ripple through her.

“Dalton, I almost forgot! I’m expected at the stables. Penn will have Bashshar saddled and ready for me.”

Dalton nuzzled her behind the ear before he released her. “I’ll go with you. I’d rather you not ride alone.”

“I’d love your company,” she said, her smile as warm as a July afternoon.

The sharp rap at the door startled them. Dalton glanced up to see the butler entering the room.

“Your grace, Mr. Brockmoor is here for your fitting.”

“My fitting?” It took a moment for Dalton to remember. “Brockmoor, my tailor,” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Damn! I’d forgotten that he was coming from London today.”

Alicia grinned. “I’ll go ahead, and you can join me when Mr. Brockmoor is finished. You can’t keep the man waiting, Dalton.”

Dalton gave Alicia a sly wink. “Very well, but take Penn or one of the grooms with you, just to be safe.”

“That’s not necessary,” Alicia said, moving to the door. “I’ll be riding Bashshar along the hedgerow, away from the woods and the gaming fields.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “I’ll be careful.”

Chapter Seventeen

A
licia rode Bashshar along the grassy stretch, reining in when they passed the turnstile gate, which marked the finish of the six-furlong distance. She gazed at the stopwatch again, not believing her eyes. But it was true—under two minutes—Bashshar’s best time yet.

She could hardly contain her happiness since Olivia told her that Robert approved of her idea to ride Bashshar, and promised to speak to the racing board immediately.

Yes, she might have her chance to race Bashshar at Newmarket!

She leaned down and stroked the horse’s neck. “You’re going to make your master so proud,” she said. The stallion blew, tossing his head. If only the board would approve of her registering as a mystery entry.

She glanced around for Rufus, who had taken off to follow a rabbit through the field. “Rufus?” she called, her gaze searching the golden-tipped grass to the far edge of the gaming field. The only
answer came from the cedar and spruce branches creaking in the afternoon breeze.

Alicia’s pulse quickened. How far would Rufus trail the rabbit? She glanced across the high ridge of colorful square patches of fields as far as the eye could see, but there was no trace of the dog.

Uneasily, she urged Bashshar through the grass. “Rufus?” she called against the wind. Beneath her, she felt the horse shiver, and she wondered if the horse realized that they were approaching the dense thicket near the place the shooter had last struck. She felt a strange premonition and reined in, deciding to return to the manor. She would have Ulger send the grooms to search for Rufus.

Alicia had no sooner wheeled Bashshar in the opposite direction when she recognized Dalton’s two-wheeled curricle, pulled by the pair of white horses, racing across the park. She stared at the dark-haired gentleman driving the carriage and the fashionably dressed lady by his side. Olivia and Robert. Alicia bit her lip. They were heading straight toward the open stretch that bordered the gaming fields.

Alicia brought Bashshar around and raced the horse along the hedgerow path at the edge of the woods, her thoughts on warning Olivia and Robert. If she hurried, she might stop them before they ventured near the gaming fields.

As Bashshar’s hooves thundered beneath her, she forced a calm she didn’t feel. It wouldn’t help the horse to sense her uneasiness, if he hadn’t already. Her fears were foolish, no doubt. When she
caught up with Robert and Olivia, safe and sound, they would all share a good laugh.

Suddenly Bashshar broke stride and slowed to a trot. He whinnied, tossed his head, his great brown eyes showing white. “What is it, boy?” She stroked his neck, her gaze searching the woods. Except for a splattering of sunlight slanting through the leafy canopy overhead, Alicia could see only vague shadows.

The massive animal beneath her lunged from the trail, branches and limbs snapping and flying at her. For a moment, Alicia had all she could do to keep her seat as she pulled back on the reins.

The stallion charged into the bushes. Alicia clung for dear life, knees pressed to the stallion’s sides.

Suddenly, the horse stopped. Alicia pitched forward, almost losing her seat. Directly in front of them, a movement in the alder bushes less than fifteen feet away caused her to look up.

A man, half hidden in the shrubbery, raised a shotgun and aimed for the moving curricle.

She froze. Bashshar curled his lip, baring flashing white teeth. Icy fear shattered through her as the horse screamed, charging for the shooter. She clung on for dear life.

Startled, the man whirled to face them, and his weapon fell to his side. Before he could raise the gun and take aim, Bashshar was on top of him. The horse reared, black mane flying as his front hooves wildly stabbed the air.

The shooter’s face paled. He swung the gun, trying to club the horse with the weapon.

“No!” Alicia cried as she stared in terror. With all her might, she pulled hard left on the reins, in a futile attempt to control the horse.

A second later, Rufus’s silver head appeared above the tall grass. The wolfhound bolted into the hedgerow toward the man. The dog’s snarl was the last thing Alicia heard before Bashshar reared and struck out at the shooter. The man’s bloodcurdling scream pierced her senses.

When Alicia finally gained control of the stallion and tied him to a tree, she dashed to the man writhing in the bushes. He sat up, holding his mangled arm. Rufus, with the man’s ankle in his jaws, shook the leg as though it were a rag doll.

“Git yer bloody dog off me,” the shooter yelled, trying vainly to kick Rufus. The man’s hat fell off, revealing bright-red hair.

Alicia stared at Penn’s older brother, Neville. Anger and outrage surged through her. She glanced at the shotgun lying a few feet away. She dashed over and picked up the weapon. “How could you, Neville!”

“That bloody ’orse broke me arm!” the man accused.

A flood of relief filled her. Thank God Bashshar hadn’t killed him, as she’d first thought. But the shooter’s right arm was definitely broken.

From the nearby tree, Bashshar tossed his head and stamped the earth. Behind her, a voice rang out. “Lady Alicia, are you all right?”

She wheeled around to see three riders canter
through the tall grass. She recognized the bearded, bespectacled man in the middle—Inspector Leary.

“I’m unharmed, but the man on the ground is hurt. I think his arm is broken.”

“We’ve been following Neville for the past several days,” Inspector Leary said, breathing hard. He swung down from the saddle. “We couldn’t arrest him until he attempted to shoot. When I saw you on that black horse heading straight for him, I—I—”

“It’s fortunate no one else was injured,” she said, suddenly feeling shaky.

“We got here as soon as we could!” the inspector said, his tone apologetic.

The youngest man grabbed Neville by the shoulders. “You’ve a mighty fine watchdog there, your grace,” he said. Turning to the wolfhound, he said, “Okay, laddie. Let go of ‘is boot now.”

“Come here, Rufus!” Alicia snapped her fingers and the wolfhound reluctantly released Neville’s ankle.

The third man helped Neville onto one of the horses.

“Your ladyship, are you certain you’re not injured?” Inspector Leary’s eyebrows knitted with concern.

“I’m a little shaky, but I’ll be fine.” she said, striding toward Bashshar. She gripped the reins while she stroked the horse’s neck. “Olivia and Robert? Where are they?”

“They’re coming this way,” the inspector said. Alicia whirled around to see her sister-in-law run
toward her. A few yards away, Robert stood beside the curricle, securing the reins of the white horses.

“Dear God, Alicia, are you hurt?” Olivia called out.

Feeling more disturbed than she cared to admit, Alicia shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Olivia.” She returned her sister-in-law’s quick embrace.

“Bashshar must have sensed the shooter hiding in the hedgerow….” Alicia’s voice broke with emotion. “He overcame his fear to protect me.” Unshed tears stung the backs of her eyes.

“Thank God,” Olivia said softly, her face pale.

“If everyone is all right,” said Inspector Leary, “and I have your permission, Lady Alicia, my men will interrogate the shooter at the hunting lodge. As soon as I write my report, I’ll come to the manor and notify his lordship.”

“Yes, you have my permission,” Alicia replied. “I’ll be along as soon as I see to Lady Olivia and her husband.”

“I’m so relieved you caught that terrible man,” Olivia said to the inspector as they watched Neville being led away by two of the inspector’s men.

Although she was grateful the shooter was caught, Alicia knew that Dalton would be devastated to learn that Ulger’s oldest son had betrayed them. She didn’t know what she would do if it was found that Ulger was part of the conspiracy, too.

“Lady Alicia, let me help you to the curricle,” Robert said. “I’ll tie Bashshar to the back, and—”

“Thank you, but I prefer to ride back to the manor.” Alicia grinned at his look of surprise. “I’m
quite all right, really. Besides, Bashshar needs to settle down, too.” She waited until Robert and his wife were seated in the curricle.