“Oh, is that so? I’ve already raced, thank you very much, and unless you’re unable to recall, I won. You’ll put me on Copper this evening, or I’ll fetch my own horse from my stable and best all of your riders!”
Evan and Marjorie stared each other down, neither willing to acquiesce for some time. Finally, it was Evan who was forced to weigh Marjorie’s threat. It was bad enough that his horse had broken free at the Hawthorne Stakes and nearly trampled some very important spectators. Now he’d have to face the possibility that his entrants would lose in front of a crowd.
It was too big a risk, bigger even than what would happen if they were found out.
Chapter 17
That evening, the races went as well as anyone could have hoped, especially Evan. His heart beat with trepidation during the third event, knowing that Lady Marjorie was to ride. He would never live it down if she was to be discovered, and how she’d let him convince her, he’d never know. Nonetheless, he watched proudly as all three of his riders won their initial events, then waited for them to compete in the final race.
“That’s an impressive showing from your lot, Lanercost,” a member of the peerage said as he passed. He laughed heartily then added, “I’ll have to stop by your stables and discover all of your secrets! But first, I’m off to place my bets on that brown stallion of yours. It’s a wonder anyone knows how to decide, what with the fine showing your riders have posted lately!”
Evan beamed with pride. Everything his father had worked for, everything he’d managed to add to his father’s holding and increase his inheritance, only made him swell with pride. He only wished his father could have seen the name that his years of meticulous planning and hard work had become.
As his three riders lined up at the gates with the others for the final race, Evan moved to his seat. He was too excited to sit down, though, and suddenly was filled with an inexplicable sense of dread. He stared intently at the ring, blocking all other sounds and sights from his awareness.
Ding!The heavy iron bell suddenly sounded, jolting Evan from his worry and causing him to flinch. The horses tore out of the gate, and though all mattered a great deal, Evan could only watch one.
Ride!he thought urgently, silently spurring her on.Move ahead, stay away from the fray of the pack!
Somewhere after the last turn of the first lap, Evan was blindly struck by a new thought: why did it matter so much to him? Three of the seven riders were from his stables, he was all but guaranteed a victory. And why would one rider on his mounts matter more than the others?
Is it because of…her?he wondered, holding his breath as he watched the horses form two packs, each taking the start of the second lap.It is… it’s Lady Marjorie. That’s who I fear for, but why? Why does she matter more?
Still fighting to make sense of this strange, new feeling, Evan was lost in thought when he heard someone close to him call out in horror. His eyes went immediately to the lead pack, where Lady Marjorie, Jacobs, and another rider were all but tangled for first position. He watched, sickened, as his rider fell to the side, clutching the horse’s mane in desperation to break his fall.
No… to breakherfall, he thought.
Evan vaulted from the viewing stand, launching himself over the low rail to sprint towards the track. He paid the other horses no mind as he scrambled over the fences that stood between him and the fallen rider.
“Lady Marjorie! Are you hurt?” he hissed, shielding her fallen form with his body as horses thundered on either side of them. “Your head, you’re bleeding!”
“I’m all right, just help me out of here,” she whispered in reply. “Don’t let them see who I am.”
Evan stood up and stooped to lift her, but Marjorie shook her head, adding, “No, they’ll realize I’m no rider! I must walk as a man would do, only I need your help. My ankle is pained!”
Evan hoisted Marjorie to her feet and set her gently upright. He waved off several men who were hurrying forward, instead putting Marjorie’s arm around his shoulders and his hand around her waist, lifting her easily while giving the appearance that she was still limping from the pitch.
“Somewhere private, so that no one might discover me,” Marjorie insisted, keeping her face down but looking out of the corners of her eyes.
Evan continued to wave off those who came forward to help, intent on carrying her far from the onlookers. He turned this way and that, looking for somewhere away from the crowds who were now curious and concerned.
Finally settling Marjorie on a stool behind the farthest grandstand, Evan lowered her to the seat and looked first to the cut above her eye. He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to the cut, apologizing when she winced from the pain of his touch.
“I knew better,” he said angrily, “I knew better than to let you do this. This is precisely what I feared! You’ve now been hurt because of my foolishness!”
“Worse, I could have been found out,” she said with a weak smile. “If that were to be the case, I’d only lie there and pray for the horses to grind me into the dirt!”
“This is no laughing matter, Lady Marjorie! I could never forgive myself if…” He stopped, aware that his words might pour forth in a way that they could never be retrieved.
Marjorie looked up at him, watching his face carefully. His expression—and the feelings behind it—was all too clear.
* * *
“I think I’m better now,” she said stoically, leaning back and gently pushing his hand away. “I’ll just stay here for a moment while my ankle mends enough to get home. Thank you.”
“Lady Marjorie, I won’t hear of it!” he said. “I’ll see you home myself. Do not shake your head at me, I will not listen this time. After all, this is all my fault! Don’t worry, you’ll stay dressed as is, no one will suspect they’ve seen you with me. I’ll discover a way to bring you safely to your door without ruin.”
He thought for a moment, then brightened. “Is there someone you can trust at your home? The person who fetched you these boy’s garments, perhaps?”
