WILL HAVE time to practice, Jess. The race is not for two days.”
“You are insane, Des. I used to think you were adventurous but you have crossed the line.”
They were in the stable walking around Jupiter, who was obviously uncomfortable with the strange saddle strapped to his back.
“What I am is a pragmatist.” He gave Jupiter a piece of apple and stroked his mane, which went a long way toward making the horse more agreeable. “Listen. Once Cecilia wins this race, she will realize that she is indeed more than her lovely face. That she is my equal no matter what my title is. She will see that I want to make her my wife for all the right reasons.”
“You’re saddling yourself, pun intended,” Jess added, “with unrealistic expectations. It is one race. A race in which you will look like a fool.”
“Excellent! She will see that I am a man before I am a marquis and Cecilia Brent will look like a duchess. Definitely worth looking a fool.” Destry moved the mounting block closer and made his way to the different saddle.
“You might be able to adjust to this, but what about Jupiter?”
“Right, I’m more concerned about him. I talked to the head groom and he says that Jupiter will have to grow accustomed to the different distribution of weight. Since I do not weigh as much as most gentlemen it is not the problem it might be for someone like you.”
Jess considered. It would never be a problem for him, since there was no way in hell he would ever ride sidesaddle. He watched as Des dismounted, then mounted again and just sat for a few minutes. The horse shook his head once but settled soon enough.
In the end Destry managed to stay on the horse for the whole session, which consisted of riding at a slow walk around the ring and then out to the path, up to the house and back. Not even a canter. Who knew that Destry had patience tucked away in that compact body?
“Excellent!” Des joined Jess at the horse ring. “The groom tells me he will have one of his best and smallest grooms take Jupiter out this evening while we are at dinner. Then I will spend a few hours with him tomorrow morning and possibly afternoon as well.”
“It sounds Machiavellian to me, Des, but then why should that surprise me? You’re heir to the Bendas dukedom after all.”
“Yes, I do believe my grandfather would approve.” Destry looked up to the sky and appeared to be listening for the dead man’s endorsement.
The mention of his grandfather reminded Jess of the story he’d told Cecilia. Jess had no idea whether that had anything to do with the resolution of differences between them, even if building some sympathy had been his intention. Now he found himself wishing he had kept his mouth shut. The last thing Destry wanted from Cecilia Brent was sympathy.
“DARWELL, PLEASE DO not upset yourself,” Cecilia pleaded, handing the maid a handkerchief. Now that they all knew the truth about Crenshaw, Darwell was willing to openly voice her concerns for Miss Wilson. She had not succumbed to tears but Beatrice could see how distressed she was as she twisted the piece of cotton between her fingers.
“Something should be done to protect Miss Wilson,” Darwell went on. “In the normal course of events I would speak to her maid, but I know her and she will do nothing to jeopardize her position. She would as soon turn her back as listen.”
“You are not to lose sleep over this, Darwell,” Cecilia insisted. “Beatrice and I will devise a plan. You were right to tell us of your concerns.”
Beatrice had no ideas and doubted that Cecilia did, either, but she nodded bracingly. “I already have a plan, but it is growing time to dress for dinner, is it not?”
“Oh dear,” Darwell said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. “Tonight’s theme is quite unique and I want to be sure you two are dressed to perfection.”
When Darwell left for the dressing room to shake out their gowns, Cecilia whispered, “What happened to the maid who was so superior? Who told us what to do instead of the other way around?”
Beatrice had wondered the same. “I think it’s a testament to how much Crenshaw’s abuse hurt her as well. Even now, years later, it still upsets her.” Beatrice thought about what she had seen this afternoon but decided to respect Darwell’s privacy and not mention