encourage her, and yet, confronted by her challenge, he was intrigued and was unable to resist the temptation. He was compelled to take her on, merely to see how well she could ride. He stared at her profile as she turned her head slightly, tracing with his gaze the beautiful lines of her face, the curved brush of her lustrous dark eyelashes. Yes, Miss Fanshaw was quite extraordinarily lovely. She had an untamed quality running in dangerous undercurrents just below the surface and a wild freedom of spirit that found its counterpart in his own hot-blooded, temperamental nature.
‘The place and the distance will be of your choosing and we shall meet at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.’ He turned to George. ‘Arrange it, will you, George? Who will you place your bets on?’
George laughed. ‘Now there’s a challenge in itself. Were it anyone else, Julius, I would certainly back you, but be warned. My cousin has a special affinity with the equine species, preferring them to people. She would rather throw a saddle over a horse than attend a ball. She’ll do anything for a dare and is a demon on a horse. Her own is no dainty mare, but a brute of an animal—a gelding. On such an impressive mount she stands to win.’
Beatrice threw Lord Chadwick a challenging look. ‘Perhaps Lord Chadwick considers it most improper for a young lady to ride a gelding.’
An eyebrow jutted upwards. ‘Young lady? My dear Miss Fanshaw, you are the most controversial and exciting woman I have ever met in my life; I suspect that your vitality is such that you are a menace to everyone you meet. It does not surprise me in the least that you ride a gelding.’ A roguish grin tugged at his lips. ‘If you told me you rode an elephant, I would believe you. As it is I shall take my chance.’
The wager had attracted a good deal of attention and others began to place their bets.
‘I’ll back you, Chadwick,’ someone shouted. ‘Fifty guineas you win.’
Julius turned and grinned as interest in the race began to mount. ‘See what is happening, Miss Fanshaw. You have fallen among desperate gamblers.’
‘I already knew that before I accepted your challenge,’ she uttered, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. He gave her a cold look, but chose not to comment on her provocative remark.
‘Seventy-five guineas,’ another voice shouted.
‘A hundred.’
‘My diamond necklace,’ a lady from the back of the crowd piped up.
And so it went on until the stakes reached heady proportions. But neither participant was listening as they continued to watch each other warily. Beatrice’s gaze was ensnared by the glittering sheen of the amber eyes.
‘And us, Miss Fanshaw?’ Julius murmured. ‘What will we forfeit?’
There was a deathly hush. From beneath the gazebo Lady Standish watched what was happening in appalled, stony silence, unable to believe her niece’s shocking behaviour. The look in her eyes was as potent as a spoken curse.
‘I say the winner names the forfeit,’ Beatrice suggested.
Julius nodded. ‘I think you have planned this, Miss Fanshaw.’
Beatrice raised her chin a notch. ‘You don’t have to agree to race against me, Lord Chadwick. Indeed, I don’t know why I entertained such a notion.’
He looked at her directly and she felt her breath come a little short. ‘Oh, I think you do,’ he said quietly. ‘I think you know exactly what you want and you will stop at nothing to get it. I read people well, Miss Fanshaw, and I think you have the ability to be absolutely single minded. You know very well why you entertained this notion.’
Her smile was one of thin sarcasm. ‘You do a lot of thinking, Lord Chadwick.’
‘All the time.’
‘If I am as you say, then indirectly it is your doing.’
‘I am sorry to find that after all these years you still carry a grudge. And now all I need to do is discover what forfeit you will ask of me, and the only way I can do that is to race against you—unless you will indulge me and tell me now.’
She tossed her head haughtily. To forgo propriety and do what one wished was quite liberating. ‘No, not before the end of the race.’
‘Very well. Until after the race.’
There were loud guffaws from the crowd. ‘Careful, Julius,’ Roderick Caruthers shouted. ‘Be careful what you commit yourself to. You are a gentleman, remember, and gentlemen never renege on their word.’
He grinned. ‘I’d better win, then.’
‘And should I win, you will give me your word to