Winning the Gentleman (Hearts on the Heath #2) - Kristi Ann Hunter Page 0,59

acknowledge Miss Fitzroy. Since that effort required him to avoid not just a person but an entire horse, it was an impressive, if annoying, feat.

Knowing Davers, he wasn’t going to stop with unspoken slights. Words were going to be said. Unkind ones veiled with a sheen of propriety that would keep him from having to apologize later.

Aaron could take the insults, and he imagined Miss Fitzroy had heard worse, but Oliver was a socializing member of the community. The less direct unpleasantness he had to hear from the other aristocrat, the easier he would find it to smile at him later in a ballroom.

“We can take it from here, Oliver. Why don’t you join your future wife in the stand so you get a good view?” Aaron assumed Lady Rebecca had come with her father. Even if she didn’t care much for racing, she wouldn’t miss this.

When Oliver didn’t immediately agree, Aaron turned to see him watching Aaron with an expression Aaron couldn’t quite read. Given their mixed company, Aaron couldn’t ask him what he was thinking. Finally, Oliver gave a swift nod, remounted his horse, and rode away.

Miss Fitzroy cleared her throat. Though she still looked a bit wild about the eyes, her posture had returned to its normal fluidity in the saddle. Her abnormal demeanor was jarring, but at least her skill seemed the same.

“I look forward to breaking your record,” Lord Davers said.

“You have been seeking a way to distinguish yourself for a while,” Aaron returned, knowing he shouldn’t reply at all but wanting to get in one last comment while he still had some claim to rightful arrogance.

After today he would be known as the stable manager who was either foolish enough to have a female jockey, desperate enough to recruit a female jockey, or stupid enough to allow a female jockey.

None of those were descriptions he particularly wanted attached to his name. Win or lose, his reputation was taking a hit.

As the horses lined up, Aaron took care to position Miss Fitzroy so that her whip hand was free. Sitting aside as she was, switching hands was not an option. Davers’s rider could press in on the right side and prevent her from being able to maneuver the horse as well. If he pressed in from the left, he could knock her off balance or jostle the saddle enough to send her tumbling.

All the horrible possibilities sent a burning sensation climbing up his throat, and a stabbing ache formed in the back of his head. He wasn’t going to breathe properly until Miss Fitzroy’s feet were on the ground again.

The count was made, the gun was fired, and the horses took off.

Just as he always did once the riders were safely away, Aaron mounted Shadow and cut across the Heath to the finish post. The racers would follow the curve of the course, covering twice the distance he had to.

Instead of dismounting and joining the onlookers, he stayed in the saddle, ready to run interference if it became necessary to remove Miss Fitzroy from the premises quickly.

Would winning or losing require them to depart faster? Maybe they should make a run for it either way.

He couldn’t see who was in the lead, though the roar of the crowd told him they’d rounded the corner. It was so loud the noise covered the pounding of hooves until the horses were in the final stretch of the track.

They were close—far closer than most people had likely expected—but neither had a clear advantage.

He avoided blinking until his eyes grew dry and his vision unfocused. Every muscle in his body drew tight, and Shadow leapt forward at the squeeze of Aaron’s legs. He settled the horse and forced his legs to relax, though the rest of him remained tight and stiff. They were nearly to the finish.

As Aaron had feared, the other jockey was riding his horse close to Equinox, pressing in on Miss Fitzroy’s legs. She had shifted her weight and leaned low over the horse’s neck, practically turning herself into an equine neck scarf. It wasn’t pretty, but she was hanging on.

More importantly, she wasn’t losing.

In that instant, Aaron knew he didn’t want her to. She was good. She deserved to win.

Though her whip was free, Davers’s horse was far too close for her to get in a good kick to urge Equinox faster. As they got close enough to see the details of their faces, he noticed that while she’d been silent for the preparation, she