Winning the Gentleman (Hearts on the Heath #2) - Kristi Ann Hunter Page 0,51

Questions about her treatment at the estate welled in his throat, but he kept them silent. What he didn’t know about he wouldn’t feel compelled to fix.

Miss Fitzroy looked away from Aaron. “No, that would not have been the best.”

He approached the side of the horse he had for Miss Fitzroy only to find she was no longer next to him. He turned to find her scowling at the horses.

“I don’t suppose that’s your mount for the day.”

“No.” Aaron nodded to his chestnut thoroughbred. “Surely you recognize Shadow.”

“Indeed I do. I do not, however, recognize that horse.”

Aaron turned back to the mare to hide his grin. Scarecrow was an excellent horse, but by no means was she a racehorse. “I need to show you the course you’ll be running. We can’t put you on it, but we can ride near enough to see it. I also need to see to a few things around the area. You can take the chance to see the countryside.”

He positioned himself at Scarecrow’s side and cupped his hands, ready to help her mount.

“And we can’t look at racecourses on the backs of racehorses?” she grumbled as she slid her foot into his hands.

Her bones pressed through the thin leather into his palm. Was it even less substantial than it had been a week ago? Instinctively, his grip tightened, and the lack of substance beneath his fingers sent guilt spearing through him. Of course her boots were thinner. She walked clear across town daily in less-than-adequate footwear.

Could he buy her boots and be able to convince anyone that it was part of her uniform? Just giving her the silk shirt in Lord Trenting’s colors made him uncomfortable. A man didn’t provide clothing for a woman unless she was his mistress.

Even if he could find a way to make it a uniform and thereby respectable, he would know that he’d only done it because he cared that her shoes were as thin as his stockings.

And because he’d spent far too much time thinking about what their rides would be like if he were a man who could indulge in a flirtation or even something more.

Once she was settled in the sidesaddle, her skirts draped oddly over her trousers, Aaron moved quickly to his own horse and mounted with a single smooth move.

He took them south, away from the Heath and racecourses, away from the prying eyes and the judgmental glares.

“I don’t know my way around just yet, but I do know this isn’t the way to the racecourses.”

“No. I have a few things to look into for a . . . friend.” Referring to Rigsby in such a way made the word feel thick in his mouth. Was his half brother a friend? He certainly wasn’t the foe Aaron had always thought him to be. They rode in silence for a long while, leaving Oliver’s estate behind and riding toward a section of land that was rumored to be made available for purchase soon.

Rigsby wanted land in the area to set up his own home and stable, but he wanted to do it quietly so word wouldn’t get back to his father until the deed was done. No one would suspect Aaron was working with Rigsby, so he was the perfect scout. Aaron hadn’t told Hudson this was Rigsby’s request instead of a stud fee, even though he’d shared that the two had come to a deal that wouldn’t cost Hudson anything yet still would give him access to one of the finest horses in the world.

The news had appeased Hudson somewhat, but Aaron still didn’t know how he felt about it. He’d agreed, though, so he would find his half brother a good piece of property.

“What made you decide to manage racehorses?”

Aaron jumped at Miss Fitzroy’s question. He’d almost forgotten she was there. No, that wasn’t quite right. He’d done his best to forget she was there, because whenever he thought about riding beside her, that urge for something more niggled at his toes.

“I don’t only manage the racehorses. I manage the entire stable. Personal mounts, active racers, breeding.”

She blew out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. What made you decide to manage all the horse concerns of other men?”

Apparently belittling her knowledge didn’t anger her enough to stop the talking. “What made you decide to work in a circus?”

“Oh no.” She shook her head, grinning at him in a way that made him jerk his head to face forward again. “I asked you first.”

How much

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