He realized immediately he’d made a mistake. Damn. He needed to remain nonchalant and not allow emotion into this exchange. “Oh, nothing.”
“So, you’re a groomsman now?” she continued, batting her eyelashes at him prettily.
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying, “Yes, and you’re still disloyal?” Instead, he said, “Temporarily, yes.”
“Care to tell me what you’re playing at?” She arched a blond brow at him.
“I’ll tell you, milady, in good time, but first, if you don’t mind, I’d like to escort you from the stables so we may have privacy in the telling.”
She eyed him warily and then glanced at the horse. “Well, I would love to ride Alabaster.”
“Of course you would.” He gave her a tight smile. “Excuse me while I saddle him again.”
Rhys led the horse back to the stall and spent a few minutes putting on the blanket and fastening the girth. He hadn’t needed Mr. Hereford’s instruction on how to properly saddle a horse. He might be a duke, but he wasn’t incompetent when it came to the proper care of horses.
He might not know how to brush out a suit like his valet or serve from the proper bowl like his footmen, but he damn well knew his way around stables. The stables on his father’s country estate had been his favorite refuge when he was a boy. They were still his favorite place when he went to Worthington Manor.
As he cinched the girth around Alabaster’s middle, Rhys was distracted with thoughts of Julianna. What the bloody hell was she doing here? And why in the bloody hell hadn’t Clayton seen fit to tell him that she’d be here? That was more than an oversight. He’d have a few choice words for Clayton when next he saw the man.
Rhys finished preparing the horse with a sidesaddle and brought him back out to where Julianna was standing.
“Where’s your mother?” he drawled in as unaffected a tone as he could muster.
“Resting with Mary. I sneaked away.”
“That sounds right.” He shouldn’t condemn her for it. It had been one of the things he’d liked about her when he’d courted her. She wasn’t the type of young woman to get all marmish and shy about sneaking off to do things that were more fun than sipping tea and dancing the waltz. Not that they’d ever done anything indecent. Well, save for that time in his study, but that had been over quickly and both of them had remained fully clothed. Mostly.
Rhys came around the side of Alabaster to help Julianna up. He bent low and weaved his fingers together, giving her a step from which to spring. Without demurring, she placed her small booted foot on his hands, and was up in one quick, fluid motion, the horn of the sidesaddle under her knee. She’d always been a good horsewoman, he had to admit reluctantly. That had been another thing he’d liked about her when they were courting.
A whiff of her perfume had struck his nostrils as he’d helped her up. The memory the scent of lilacs evoked made him clench his jaw. It was a bouquet that used to make him hard. This time, it just made him angry.
A few minutes later, he swung himself up on his own mount, a less majestic gelding from Clayton’s stable. He motioned for the lady to go ahead of him from the building.
He watched her from behind. An incomparable lady riding an incomparable horse. She sat perfectly straight atop Alabaster. Even Rhys had to admit, they made quite a pair. Meanwhile, he was racking his brain trying to come up with something to tell her about why he was pretending to be a groomsman. He intended to offer her money to keep her silence, of course. He’d use some of the winnings from the bet to pay her off. But he knew her well enough to know that she would ask questions, and he had better be ready with believable answers.
“Would you care to ride to the tree line and back?” he asked as soon as they’d cleared the barn and the fence. The farther they were from the stables, the better the chance of not being overheard. She shouldn’t ride out with him, of course, not without a chaperone, but he was not a duke courting a young lady. He was a groomsman escorting a house guest on a ride. It was actually much more acceptable this way.
She shot him a look over her shoulder that clearly indicated she didn’t trust him.
“We’ll be in full view of the stables the entire way,” he offered by way of appeasing her apprehension.
“Very well. I’ll see you there.” She leaned down, kicked her heel, and set the glorious Arabian off at a fine clip.
Rhys had barely realized that she’d challenged him to a race before she was off. He immediately spurred his own mount into action to catch up. In addition to being a fine horsewoman, she was competitive, too. He remembered that about her. He’d adored that about her. Some would say he was competitive to a fault, and being around Julianna had never bored him the way his time with other young women had.
Whether they’d been playing a card game, skipping stones in a pond in Hyde Park, or racing each other on horseback, Julianna had given as good as she got and never tried to use her sex as a reason for an allowance. She’d managed to beat him a time or two, and that had perhaps been the most thrilling of all. A woman who didn’t back down, who was as competitive as he was, and who didn’t try to lose in order to assuage his masculinity. Why, he’d never met anyone like her before. Or at least he thought he hadn’t until he realized she was only interested in him for his dukedom. She’d probably been acting the entire time. Was she acting now? She no longer had a reason to.
As he galloped along behind her toward the tree line, Rhys couldn’t help but admire her form. She rode with confidence and mastered the reins. Her style spoke of years of experience on horses. It had been one of their favorite subjects while he was courting her, to discuss horseflesh.
Blast it. Why did he keep thinking about their courtship? It was history. Water under the proverbial bridge. It meant nothing to him anymore and he bloody well knew it never had meant anything to her, so why was his head filling with all of these memories of a sudden?
Damned if she didn’t beat him to the tree line. Although he’d managed to make up a considerable length, she was riding a much finer mount. Of course, a less experienced rider still would have lost to him. He grudgingly had to admit she deserved the win.
“I won,” Julianna announced the moment she slowed Alabaster to a soft trot along the fence that ran in front of the trees.
“What did you win?” The devil made him say it. The devil was so often making him say things.
“The race,” she replied, a smug look on her face.
