“Something silly that we could probably do with our eyes closed,” Deena whispered back.
“Our men will be tested of their skill, speed, and precision. They will ride the course we have set throughout the park, around the lake, over the low hedges, and at the end, they will take theirbows and shoot at the target. The fastest rider with the most accurate shot wins… a sweet surprise for tomorrow.”
Excited whispers rose. Deena’s eyes found Austin again. He was adjusting his horse’s girth, sleeves rolled high, forearms flexing as he worked the leather while his admirers stood around him. The sight sent a traitorous clench through her stomach.
Miss Waldron noticed. “Admiring the horses or…?”
Deena flushed. “I’m… observing the competition.”
“Mm.” Miss Waldron’s tone was dry. “Be careful. Men like him like being observed.”
The starting horn sounded. Austin swung into the saddle with effortless grace. He glanced towards Deena, and their eyes met for one burning second before the game began.
Fourteen
Austin flexed his fingers around the bowstring, the familiar tension singing up his arm as he tested the draw. The chestnut gelding that Dominic recommended shifted beneath him. Its powerful haunches bunched, and its ears pricked forward.
Excellent choice, old friend.Austin smirked as the other lords gathered around him. Some were failing to control their beasts.
The starting line was a ribbon of churned earth, and the crowd was a wall of pastel gowns and dark coats. Parasols bloomed like spring flowers around the dowager who stood on her dais with a silver bell in hand and a grin wide enough to swallow the sun.
“You ready, Chestnut?” he whispered into the horse’s ear and patted it.
Across the track, near the first hedge, Austin tried and failed not to look at Deena, who stood beside Dominic. She wore a pale pink gown that made her skin glow in an otherworldly way.
“Do not get distracted, Austin,” he muttered under his breath.
But when he turned to her again, her eyes were bright and fixed on him with an intensity that made his pulse stutter.
“Your Grace!” Lady Amelia’s voice floated over the noise. He unwillingly turned towards her as she waved her lace handkerchief from the rail. “Bring us victory!”
“I always do,” Austin said confidently and gave her the barest nod before his gaze slid back to Deena.
She hadn’t waved. She stood afar and perceived him in that intense way that she usually did, and nothing excited him more.
The dowager raised her arm, halting all his thoughts.
“Gentlemen—get ready!”
The horse surged against his bits, muscles coiled beneath Austin, and its breath steamed in the cool air.
“Set!”
Austin leaned low, reins steady, thighs gripping tight as the gelding quivered with eagerness.
“Go!”
As soon as the bell clanged, the chestnuts hooves detonated, and excitement slammed into Austin like a fist to the chest. His heart slammed against his ribs in time with the thunder of galloping horses. Wind tore past his face, whipping his coat, stinging his eyes. The world blurred into streaks of green, brown, and gold; the only things sharp were the course ahead and the pounding rhythm beneath him.
The chestnut stretched out, devouring the ground. Every stride felt like flight and Austin’s blood sang with it. He enjoyed the wild joy of speed, of control, and of pushing limits until the edge of danger blurred into exhilaration.
This is freedom.
He glanced sideways and was surprised to see that Lord Bennington rode neck-and-neck on a rangy bay, grinning like a madman.
“Thought you’d leave me in the dust, Your Grace?” Bennington shouted over the pounding hooves.
Austin flashed a grin, teeth bared against the wind. “And you thought you’d keep up, Lord Bennington? Not a chance!”
