“My heart is broken.”
“Stop flirting with my sister,” Warwick snapped.
“Perhaps I fancy to be part of your family and my intentions are earnest?”
“Your intentions are never earnest,” Warwick said.
“Harsh,” Zachariel Deville replied.
“You are both silly boys. Now shut up; the first race is about to start,” Dorrie said, which made Ash feel better. Clearly she was not fooled by the flattery, or she would not have spoken that way.
“And this is why I love your sisters,” Zachariel Deville said. “They are strong women who do not hesitate to speak as they wish.”
“Can nothing dent your ego?” Lord Raine addressed his brother.
“What can I say, they left the best until last.”
“In my family, the second is the best,” Cambridge Sinclair said. He was eating roasted chestnuts.
A heated debate erupted.
The day carried on in that vein. There were plenty of insults and laughter. Ash had never been around people such as this; he could see why Gus had settled among them with ease.
They came and went, some off to find friends, others food, and yet more to inspect horses. Ash went to place bets when he could not stand sitting there any longer. Stand the feeling that this could be his life, when out there was a man who would stop at nothing to kill him.
Leaving would keep people safe.
This was also a life so foreign to him it could be another world. He was used to walking the deck of theFreedom. Visiting ports and living with his crew. Occasionally, he would visit a woman.
Ash’s life had been focused on earning money and finding Radcliff. He’d allowed no room for anything else. Now he would leave here with the memory of these people. The memory of what his brother now looked like, and her. Dorset Sinclair.
The woman who’d saved his life.
He wandered, passing groups of people chatting, letting his feet carry him anywhere. Ash looked to the stables. He could simply grab his horse and leave.
He was entering minutes later.
“You will not speak to my brother like that!”
“Dorrie, it’s all right.”
Ash moved deeper into the stables and toward those voices.
“It’s not all right! How dare he say because you are of noble birth you should not ride in the last race of the day. That you are soft and will get hurt.”
He followed her voice to a stall. Ash recognized the horse as the one Warwick had ridden here today. He didn’t know that much about horses other than they were for transportation when required, and that his father had insisted he and Gus learn to ride from a young age, but this looked a strong one.
He couldn’t see the Sinclairs, as before them were three men. They had their backs to Ash.
“We are sons of men who understand what it is to work for a living. Merchants who earn their living and are not simply handed money because of our birth. This race is for men like us.”
“My sister came second last year,” Dorset said.
Ash moved slightly so he could see her between shoulders. Her eyes were narrowed, green depths glaring at the men. He saw no fear.
“That will do, Dorrie. These men were just leaving,” Warwick said. His voice sounded calm and controlled.
“You may ride, but you will not win. The only reason your sister, who should not have even been riding, did so well was because the men present let her. She is a duchess, after all.”
