to the task of being a duke. I thought that if you won the race it would go one more step toward proving that.”
Her anger disappeared. Her expression softened to a slight smile. “I do question your logic, my lord.”
He leaned closer. “I would prefer you call me Des, or even William.”
She shook her head.
“Come a little closer.”
“Why?” she asked.
“So I can kiss you without falling off this damn horse.”
Startled, she drew back.
You idiot, now you have scared her off. But she did not race away so he asked her a question of his own.
“Why did you want me to win?”
“Because winning at everything is the way you prove yourself worthy and winning in a horse race is the most important win of all. I did not want to compromise your confidence.”
He was struck by her understanding of him but she was not completely right. “Cecilia, winning this race, any race, is no longer the most important win. Not anymore.”
“And what is?”
“Winning you.”
The smile blinked out and she looked away from him, down the path ahead. “My lord?”
Did she not understand him? He’d thought it was rather romantic, and entirely unplanned.
Her horse moved ahead a few steps and it struck him that Cecilia Brent was sincerely not interested in him, whether he be duke or Dutchman.
“William,” she said. “What is that? On the path. Up ahead.”
“The banqueting platform.”
“No, not that,” she said, cutting him off and pointing. “That lump in the road. It looks like, uhm, a person.”
They both urged their horses into more than a walk and Des moved ahead of Cecilia, wanting to spare her sensibilities if blood was involved. Concern warred with alarm when he saw it was a person, a man, though the body’s back was turned to them, hiding the man’s identity.
Destry slid off the horse and ran to the still form, turning the body over as soon as he reached it.
“Crenshaw!” Cecilia gasped. She was still seated on her horse and Destry hoped she could not see how awkwardly Crenshaw’s head sat on his shoulders.
Though his body was still warm, there was no doubt that he was dead. No one could be alive with his neck at that angle.
“He’s dead, isn’t he, William?”
Destry could hear no tremor in Cecilia’s voice but ran over to her in case she should feel faint. He jumped up on a fallen log nearby. “Do not faint before you dismount, Cecilia.”
“I am not going to faint, my lord. Not at a time like this.” She slid off the horse and into his arms. She was very pale but her eyes were clear.
“Do not look at him again.”
She nodded, swallowing hard.
“One of us must go for help, Cecilia.”
“I will,” she volunteered promptly. “I can ride faster in sidesaddle than you can. Will you be all right, here alone with the,” she paused, apparently unable to say “dead body,” and then went on, “with Lord Crenshaw?”
“Yes,” he said.
She nodded again as she remounted her horse. “Do you think you will be safe here?” she asked with a wavering voice. “What if he was murdered and his killer comes after you?”
“He probably just fell from his horse.” Though her suggestion did give him pause.
Cecilia pointed to the banqueting platform, which had a broken railing. “I don’t think so, William.”
“All the more reason for you to go for help right away. I can defend myself, if necessary.” He showed her the pistol he always carried, tucked into the waist of his pants.
“All right.” Cecilia urged her mount on. “I will be back as soon as I can. With help.”
“Do not come back yourself. There is no need for you to see this again.”
She raised a hand in understanding.
“Cecilia!” Destry called. She stopped and looked his way. “One more thing. There is one thought that keeps running through my head. I know it is the wrong time and place but I am still going to say it.”
She waited, still watching him.
“I love you.”
Cecilia’s expression of disbelief was not the response he had been hoping for.
Idiot. It was beyond the wrong time and place to make such a pronouncement. It was bizarre. But as he looked at Crenshaw, his face even now losing color and any tinge of life, he knew that if his world were to end in the next five minutes, telling Cecilia he loved her was the one thing he would regret leaving undone.
He stood up and scanned the surrounding area. No sounds came to him. Even the birds were quiet. His