Winner Takes All - Anna Harrington Page 0,11
onto a chair across from her and kicked out his long legs.
She ignored him and continued, “Then I need a good jockey who can. Someone capable of handling a horse who’s stubborn, headstrong, and only half-broken in the thick of the race.”
“Like his owner, you mean?”
She chose to ignore that, too, if not for the glower on her face. “Someone who will listen when I give him instructions on how to handle my colt. Not many men in racing respect a woman’s opinion, no matter how familiar she might be with horses or how good of a horsewoman herself. You know that as well as I.”
He did know it and so grudgingly replied, “Go on.”
“But they will respect a male trainer,” she tumbled out quickly, getting to the heart of her plan. “Especially one of your caliber. So that’s why I need you to find me a good jockey and exercise boy—and for you to pretend to be Midnight’s trainer.”
He laughed.
“A jockey and exercise boy will listen to you.” She leaned toward him, her eyes flashing with hope, her heart pounding so hard with the desperate possibility of what she was presenting that her bosom rose and fell alluringly beneath her high-collared coat dress. “They won’t listen to me. So if they believe that you’re Midnight’s trainer, I can tell you what I want done with the colt, and you can pass it along to them.”
His laugh deepened. “I’m a horse trainer, not a ventriloquist’s dummy.”
She leaned back in the chair, the hope and brightness easing from her like a deflating balloon. She looked away, but not before he saw the glistening of tears in her eyes.
The sight pierced him. She’d always been proud. To come here like this to beg for his help…Christ.
But what she wanted from him was ludicrous.
“This isn’t some guinea race on the downs, Francesca,” he said as gently as possible, wanting to talk sense into her. “This is the Epsom Derby. The most important race of the year.” He gave a shake of his head, hoping she would understand. “You raised an outstanding colt, I’ll grant you that, and you came here prepared to race and win. That took courage. But perhaps the best option now is to scratch Midnight’s entry. Your father isn’t a tyrant. He’ll understand if you don’t want to marry.”
She whispered, “He won’t.”
With a trembling hand, she reached into her pocket and withdrew a letter. She slid it across the table toward him. He picked it up, opened it, and read—
His eyes darted up to hers. Her father had picked a husband for her.
“Now you know why I have to enter Midnight and win. Why I can’t let this go.” She reached across the table for his hand and clutched it tightly in hers. “Please, Jack…help me.”
He turned his attention to the letter, not daring to look at her. Just one glance at the hopelessness he knew would be on her face, and he would have promised her the world to make it go away.
This wasn’t his concern, damn it! Society misses were ushered into marriages by their parents all the time, all for rank and wealth and name. They wedded whomever their parents wanted and went quietly into marriage, to eventually do the same to their own daughters. The last thing he should do was interfere, especially since the viscount had picked a good man for her. Someone from a prestigious family capable of keeping her in the luxurious life she deserved, someone from her world.
Someone she didn’t love.
“Fine.” He shoved himself to his feet and crossed to the hearth. He needed to get away from the table—and put her out of arm’s length so he couldn’t grab her to him and make her swear to never marry Lord Charles or any duke’s son. To never marry any man but him. “I’ll find you a jockey and exercise boy.” He leaned a tired hand against the old wooden beam that formed the mantel. “But I’m taking over the training. All of it. You and Midnight have to do as I say, and you don’t get to order me about.”
Her mouth fell open. “That’s not what—”
He shot her a quelling glance over his shoulder that silenced her in mid protest. “You might know good bloodlines, but I know temperamental horses. And that colt of yours is the most unpredictable horse I’ve come across in years. If he’s not worked with carefully, he’ll endanger every horse and rider on the track, including