Heart of Courage (18 page)

“The grooms do not like him. He is hard on the horses, but he pays well and they need the work.”

She glanced back toward the barn, caught a glimpse of Saber prancing around the paddock. “What about the race?”

Thor shrugged. “It was a foolish bet. There is no way Saber can win.”

“Has he let you ride him yet?”

He nodded. “In the mornings, before anyone is up. He loves to run and he is as fast as the wind. He takes the fences as if he has wings. It is only the way he's been treated that makes him the way he is.”

“You think it was Burke?”

“Burke and men before him. Saber is angry. He wants to punish those who hurt him.”

She gave him a teasing smile. “Is that what he told you when you talked to him?”

Thor grinned, making him look so handsome she sucked in a breath. “That is what I learned when I spoke to the grooms. Burke talked Merrick into buying the stallion. He bragged about how he could ride him when others could not. Saber threw him, made him look like a fool in front of the viscount. Burke beat the horse and he became even harder to handle than he was before.”

“If he's so fast, why can't he win?”

“Merrick's entry will be a champion and his rider will be small and light. As fast as Saber is, the disadvantage in carrying a man of my size is too great.”

Lindsey pondered the problem, recognizing Thor's words as true. Then her pulse took a leap as an idea popped into her head. “Do you think…? Would he let someone else ride him?”

Thor gazed back at the pen where Saber snorted and danced. “Mayhap in time he would. If the man won his trust. Even so, there is no one who would take the risk.”

“I would.”

Fierce blue eyes locked on her face. “That is not possible.”

“I could do it. If you helped Saber get to know me, I could ride him. And I could win.”

Thor shook his head. “It is too dangerous, Lindsey. I will not see you hurt.”

“You know how well I ride. If Saber allowed me on his back and he is as fast as you say, I could win—you know I could. If that happened, the stallion would belong to you. That's what you want, isn't it? You want to own the King's Saber?”

She could read the temptation, his overwhelming desire to own such a magnificent animal.

He sighed. “As much as I might wish it could be so, I will not risk your life.”

“We wouldn't try it unless Saber accepted me. If he did, then there would be no greater risk than with any other horse.”

“Do not ask this of me, Lindsey.”

“I'm not asking for me, Thor. I'm asking for Saber. They'll put him down if he doesn't win that race. Are you willing to stand by and let that happen?”

“Mayhap I could find a way to buy him.”

“I don't think Merrick will sell him to anyone and especially not you.”

He turned away, his jaw iron-hard. He paced away from the tree, stood there for several long moments with his long legs braced apart. It was all she could do not to go to him, try again to make him see.

Thor turned and paced back to the place in front of her. She could see the turmoil in his face. “How can I allow this?”

“You said once that I was your equal. If you meant it, then you have no choice.”

His gaze held hers.

“Let me do this, Thor. For you and for Saber.”

A resigned breath slipped from his lips. “We will see what Saber has to say.”

Lindsey grinned, excited by the prospect of the race, barely able to keep from releasing a whoop of glee. It didn't matter that she would have to dress like a boy and that if she won, no one could ever know she was the rider. “When do I meet him?”

Thor looked back at the magnificent horse. “Tonight. Come to me at the ruins of stone. Saber will be the one to decide.”

 

Lindsey strode into the house, followed by Leif and Krista. They had shared a luncheon with Lord Merrick, who had been both gracious and charming, then returned home together, tying Lindsey's mount to the rear of the carriage. On the brief journey, they had talked about the derby at the end of the week and Thor's plans to race the huge black stallion, but Lindsey kept silent about her intention to participate in the event.

Both Leif and Krista were excellent riders, but she couldn't take the chance they might disapprove and do something to try to stop her.

They arrived at the house and went inside.

“I hear laughter in the card room,” she said as they crossed the entry. “And I imagine you'll find my aunt and some of the others out on the terrace.”

Leif cast his wife a burning glance. “I think we'll go up and take a nap before supper.” His hot look said sleep was the last thing on his mind.

Krista actually blushed. “That sounds like a very good notion. A little rest should be just the thing.”

Lindsey hid a smile. If Leif was nearly as virile as his fiercely passionate brother, Krista wouldn't give a fig about sleep.

Leif took hold of Krista's hand, and husband and wife headed up the stairs. Intending to get a bit of rest herself, Lindsey turned to follow, then noticed the butler lurking in the hallway.

“What is it, Mr. Creevey?”

He came forward, silver-haired and a bit stoop-shouldered. “A message arrived for you, miss. One of the lads from the village brought it 'bout an hour ago.”

She looked down at the silver salver the butler held out to her, saw her name scrawled on the folded, wax-sealed square of paper. As she recognized the writing, her hand paused midway to the tray. It was the same as the notes she had received in London, and a little shiver went through her.

Irritation overrode her trepidation and she plucked the message off the tray, wondering if the sender would continue to malign the viscount, or if, perhaps, he had some new mischief in mind.

Walking a few feet away, she cracked open the red wax seal and read the words scrawled in blue ink.

Since you are now in the country, you must be starting to believe. Ask about a young woman named Penelope Barker. Find her and you will discover the truth about Merrick.

Lindsey crushed the note in her hand. Thanks to her brother, both Tom Boggs and Edward Winslow were guests at Renhurst for the house party. Odds were, one of them was the culprit responsible for the note. If he was, Lindsey was going to give him a piece of her mind.

As she climbed the stairs, she recalled the words in the message. She had visited Merrick's estate several times and asked as many questions as she dared, but Stephen was a man of impeccable reputation, a longtime family friend, and she had never seriously entertained the notion that he might be responsible for two brutal murders.

She had come to Renhurst to get her brother out of London and enjoy herself.

Or had the trip merely been an excuse to examine the information in the notes she had received?

Whatever the truth, another accusation had been made against Stephen, this one even more specific.

Lindsey sighed as she walked into her bedroom and crossed to the bell pull to summon her maid for help changing out of her riding clothes. Whoever had written the note had left her no choice but to find out about Penelope Barker and locate her whereabouts.

Lindsey tried not to think what she might discover if a woman named Penelope Barker actually existed, and if she did, what might have happened to her.

A
n elegant supper of roasted pheasant accompanied by a filet of turbot in a light lemon cream sauce had finally come to an end, and the ladies and gentlemen of the house party now engaged in various evening activities.

Colonel Langtree sat next to Aunt Dee on the gold brocade sofa in the Gilt Drawing Room. Near the hearth, the Earl of Kittridge sipped a glass of brandy and conversed about India with the Earl of Tremaine while other of the guests played cards in the game room.

Lindsey and Coralee sat in the circle with Colonel Langtree and Aunt Delilah, Lindsey trying not to glance at the ormolu clock on the sienna marble mantel. She had been trying to find a polite means of escape for nearly an hour, so far to no avail.

“So, Miss Graham, your aunt tells me you are an extremely proficient rider.” Colonel Langtree smiled, introducing talk of a sport he enjoyed.

Lindsey returned the smile. “I refuse to play coy and deny it. I have been riding since I was a child. It is a joy to be here at Renhurst where I have access to my father's purebred horses.”

“She's a marvelous rider,” Coralee added. “It's a talent I find myself sorely lacking, but Gray has assured me in time I shall improve.”

“It is mostly a matter of practice,” Lindsey said. Her glance returned to the colonel, then moved to Aunt Dee, resplendent in a gown of burgundy silk trimmed with pale peach lace. “My aunt also rides very well. I imagine she would be willing to give you a tour of the estate.”

Delilah smiled brightly. “A marvelous notion, my dear.” She turned to the colonel. “If you like, we could go sometime on the morrow.”

“I would like that very much, indeed.” It took the colonel a moment longer than it should have to glance away from Aunt Dee's lovely gray eyes. He cleared his throat and returned his attention to Lindsey. “So what do you think of the upcoming derby? I image you've watched any number of them over the years.”

“I can tell you it is quite an occasion and certainly a great deal of fun. It should be a fitting end to the week.”

“I hear you are entering one of Renhurst's Thoroughbred horses,” Coralee said to Aunt Dee.

“Indeed, we are. Though we have not yet decided which horse to run.”

“I pray you choose well,” the colonel said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I plan to bet on the Renhurst entry and I am counting on winning.”

“Lord Merrick's horse will be difficult to beat,” Coralee warned. “From what I've heard, the viscount trains all year for this event.”

“Still, our horses are all first-rate,” said Aunt Dee, “and we have very good trainers. You may be certain we will give the race our utmost effort.”

Lindsey thought of the beautiful black stallion, the King's Saber. With any luck, she would be riding in the race herself. If that occurred, the colonel would be wise to place his bet on the black—for Lindsey was determined to be the winner.

She yawned behind her hand. “It's getting late. I am afraid I am a bit worn out. If you don't mind, I think I shall retire for the evening.”

“Of course, dear,” Aunt Delilah said.

“Sleep well,” said the colonel, rising as she left her seat and started for the door. She imagined he was hoping the rest of the guests would leave as well—all but Delilah.

The colonel and her aunt were extremely well-suited, Lindsey thought as the man returned to his seat beside Aunt Dee—unlike she and Thor, who were so completely ill-suited. She ignored a twinge of regret. Some things were simply not to be and there was nothing one could do about it.

Still, she couldn't keep her pulse from speeding in anticipation of their meeting tonight. Lindsey hurried up the stairs to her room.

 

Thor paced nervously back and forth at the edge of the stone ruins. If Lindsey didn't arrive soon, he was going in search of her.

He swore a soft oath. He never should have let her come out here at night, never should have agreed to this meeting in the first place. He knew she had been asking questions in the village. If there was any truth to the notes, Merrick might well be disturbed by her interest in his affairs. Mayhap he had sent someone to watch her. Mayhap she was being followed.

He tried not to think of the men in the alley and what they had intended to do. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

Five more minutes and he would go after her.

He glanced toward the grassy area where the stallion grazed contentedly, happy to be out of his pen. Today had been a day of accomplishment for the horse—Thor had convinced the animal to stand under saddle. According to Horace Nub, before Saber had been mistreated, he had been trained to accept both saddle and bridle.

Then he had been sold to a man who treated his horses cruelly. After that, a string of trainers who believed in using brute force couldn't bring the stallion back under control and three of them had been seriously injured.

Thor had managed to win the horse's trust, but that didn't mean that Saber would allow Lindsey to ride him—or even if he did, that Thor should allow it. What if the stallion threw her? What if she were injured or killed?

Worry had him pacing again. He was about to collect the stallion and ride in search of her when he heard the soft whicker of an approaching horse. Relief flooded through him. And a sweet yearning to see her that he did not wish to feel.

Thor steeled himself. How many times had he vowed to leave her alone? What was it about her that made it so difficult a promise to keep?

She rode up to where he stood and he reached up to lift her down from the saddle. She was wearing the velvet riding habit she had worn earlier that day, the soft cloth warmed by her body where his hands wrapped around her small waist. He inhaled her scent, the fragrance of flowers and woman, and his body tightened. His shaft turned to steel inside his breeches. She was nothing like the voluptuous women he had always desired and yet no other woman had affected him so strongly.

“The house is still swarming with people,” she said with a smile just for him. “I figured Saber and I would simply be getting acquainted tonight so I wore this in case someone saw me go out to the stable.”

Her hair curled loosely down her back, held in place on the sides with turtle-shell combs. He wanted nothing so much as to slide his fingers into the tawny mass and drag her mouth up to his for a deep, burning kiss.

Instead, he caught her hand. “Come. We will see if Saber thinks you look as pretty as I do.”

She laughed and followed him toward the stallion, who grazed at the end of a long rope tether. The horse's head came up when he saw her and his nostrils flared.

“Not too fast,” Thor warned, tugging on Lindsey's hand to slow her down. “Give him time to get used to your presence.”

Saber snorted and began to paw the ground, his senses on full alert.

“Easy boy,” Lindsey said softly as she slowly approached. “I am not going to hurt you.”

He danced a moment, lifted his front feet off the ground, and whinnied sharply.

“Keep talking,” Thor said.

“Such a pretty boy, you are. I hope you will let me ride you. I would like that ever so much.” She kept moving closer, talking softly all the way. Thor walked beside her, prepared to step between them, should the stallion decide to charge.

“I bet you can run,” Lindsey said. “Thor says you are as fast as the wind.”

The horse began to still. His ears twitched and he fixed his attention on the sound of Lindsey's voice.

“I've never seen a horse like you,” she said. “You could sire the finest Thoroughbreds in all of England.”

To Thor's amazement, the horse nickered softly, lowered his head, and came trotting toward her as if they were old friends. By the gods, it was the last thing he expected. There was no confrontation in the stallion's approach, nothing that signaled the horse considered her a danger.

“I cannot believe it.” Just then he caught a hint of Lindsey's soft perfume. Her voice was equally soft and infinitely feminine and he realized that was the difference.

Lindsey reached out and scratched the stallion's ears, received a whiffle of gratitude for the gesture.

“You're a woman,” Thor said. “He doesn't like men but you—you are a female. He must have known a woman in his past, someone who cared for him.”

Lindsey pressed her cheek against Saber's, drew her fingers through his thick, silky mane and stroked his gleaming coat. “We're going to be great friends, you and I—aren't we, darling?”

She turned to look at Thor. “He doesn't feel threatened the way he does with men.”

“So it would seem.”

“He's going to let me ride him—I can feel it.”

“It is too soon to know that for certain.”

But by the end of the session it was becoming more and more clear. Lindsey pressed a kiss on the stallion's forehead. “We're going to ride in the steeplechase, Saber, and we are going to win.”

Thor didn't argue. All evening he had felt the bond growing between Lindsey and the stallion. There was no hostility. In truth, the stallion seemed eager to please her.

Thor's heartbeat quickened. If Lindsey rode Saber, they might just win the derby. The horse would be saved and the stallion would be his.

For years he had been searching, trying to find his rightful place in the world. For the first time he saw it clearly. He would find a way to buy the land he had dreamed of. The stallion would be the foundation of a string of Thoroughbred horses to equal those belonging to Lord Merrick or any man in the country.

If Saber could win…

Thor looked at Lindsey and his heartbeat quickened with worry. As good a rider as she was, any steeplechase was dangerous. How could he allow her to risk herself?

“You've got that look again,” she said, beginning to know him too well.

“What look?”

“That
I'm-a-male-you're-my woman-and-it's-my-duty-to-protect-you
look.”

He almost smiled. “I should not let you do it.”

“We've been through this before and I'm telling you right now—if you don't let me ride Saber, I'm going to ride one of my father's horses. I'm riding in that race—with or without your permission. Will it be Saber or some horse you don't know?”

“I swear, Lindsey, you are the most—”

“Vexing creature. I know.”

He did smile, then. “All right. If Saber allows it, you will ride the stallion. I will not try to stop you again.”

And so he spent the last few hours before dawn working with Saber and Lindsey, Lindsey walking him, feeding him lumps of sugar, talking to him and petting him.

“Why don't we see if he'll let me sit on his back?” she suggested.

Thor was only a little uneasy at the notion. The stallion seemed more relaxed just being near her. When Saber appeared to be ready, Thor lifted Lindsey sideways up on the animal's bare back, careful to keep a tight hold on the lead. He walked them in a small circle, then a larger one.

Never once did Saber do anything threatening. In fact, he seemed happy to carry her about.

Thor shook his head. The woman had a way of capturing a man's affections. It seemed the stallion was no less susceptible than he.

 

It was late in the evening, dawn less than two hours away, when they decided to call it a night.

“I'll come again tomorrow evening—earlier if I can.”

Thor nodded. “I do not like you riding out here by yourself. I will wait for you at the edge of the woods east of the stable.”

She opened her mouth to protest, caught his warning glare and nodded. “All right.”

He walked her over to where she had hobbled her horse.

“There's something I should mention before I leave,” she said. “When I got back to the house this afternoon, another note was waiting. The writing was the same as before. One of the boys from the village brought it.”

“What did it say?”

“That I should find a woman named Penelope Barker. If I did, I would learn the truth about Lord Merrick.”

“I will ask around, see what I can find out.”

“The men you work with…they didn't give you any trouble about being Leif's brother?”

“I told them I was not rich like Leif. I had to work just like any other man.”

She nodded. “There's one more thing.”

“Aye?”

“Before I leave, I need you to kiss me. I've been thinking about it all night.”

“Lindsey…”

“You want to, don't you? It isn't just me.”

He shook his head. His entire body ached for her. He'd been hard off and on all evening. “There is nothing I would like more than to kiss you. I ache to be inside you, Lindsey—this you must know. But we are not wed and never will be. We cannot—”