“What’s going on here?” Christian demanded.
Thea whirled to face him, her lovely face a mask of ire. She stood alone amongst the sea of males, a gorgeous warrior princess — Athena battling the horde. It made his heart throb a rhythm that couldn’t possibly be healthy.
“They won’t let me in,” Thea said with exasperation. “Can you believe that?”
Christian grimaced. “Yes.”
“Your Grace,” one of the Tattersalls managers interjected with a short bow. “Do you know this young lady?”
“Indeed,” Christian replied. He was well known to the men who ran the auction house for the Tattersall family, but he held no delusions he could help bring this confrontation to an ending that would made everyone happy. “Miss Ashbrook is well known to me.”
“To us as well,” Dalton agreed, and Harrington nodded.
“Then perhaps you can explain to her she cannot come into the auction house.” Thea had so riled the man his spectacles were fogged.
“I am sorry to say, my dear,” Christian told her, with a shrug of regret, “but Tattersall’s is a gentlemen’s establishment.”
“That’s absurd,” she protested.
“Well that’s the way it’s always been,” Harrington offered. Based on the look on Thea’s face, she did not find that answer satisfactory.
“But I have money.” She waggled her reticule as if it held all her fortune. “I came to buy a horse, and I have money.”
“Not at Tattersalls you won’t,” the manager stated with a great deal of emphasis.
“You are an awful man.” Thea squinted her fierce eyes at the man with malice. “Awful.”
Christian heard a distinct snort of suppressed laughter from the direction of his brother-in-law. When Christian turned to give a quelling look at Harrington, the man’s face was wiped clean of amusement, and he blinked back with angelic innocence.
“Would you consider allowing her to enter if she is with the Marquess, the Earl and myself?” Christian didn’t really think the manager would go for his suggested solution, but he put it forth nevertheless.
The manager’s mouth fell open, aghast. “No, Your Grace. This is a gentlemen’s establishment.”
“So you’ve said,” Thea interjected, her tone dry as a desert.
Again with the amused snort.
“I have called Mr. Tattersall himself. He should be here shortly.” The manager removed his spectacles and rubbed them dry with a handkerchief.
“That won’t be necessary.” Christian took Thea’s elbow and attempted to guide her away from the group.
“Give her hell, Morewether,” someone from the thick of the crowd suggested. Christian cast a quashing look at the horde. Lord Eastlake had the good sense to look away when Christian stared him down.
“This is ludicrous,” Thea said again. “I merely want to buy a horse.”
“That’s what is done at Tattersalls,” Christian noted, unhelpfully.
“Not by women.”
“No, that’s true. Usually if a lady wants to purchase a horse, she sends her agent to take care of it for her.”
“I don’t have an agent,” Thea protested.
“Which horse were you interested in?” he asked, thinking he could score some points in his never ceasing desire to impress her if he assisted her today.
She didn’t seem to be listening. Her eyes darted back and forth from the manager to Christian and his friends. “I can’t believe they won’t let me in. What goes on there that’s so secret anyway?”
“All manner of nefarious goings on?” Dalton told her with a wide grin and an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
Harrington nodded and said with a chuckle, “A young maiden such as yourself would surely faint dead away.”
Even through her anger, Christian noted her lips twitch in a smile she was still able to suppress.
Christian gave her elbow a little tug to bring her attention back around to him. “Which horse were you interested in?”
Thea exhaled in frustration. “Why?
“Because I can help you.” he explained. “I want to help you.”
“Alberton Star.”
Really? “Excellent choice. Why that one?”
“I’ve made inquiries,” she told him a tad defensively. “He has excellent lineage and an already astounding racing record.”
“You’re right, of course. I should have known you would choose a perfect horse.” Christian adored that about her. “What did you plan to do with him if you bought him?”
“Ride him, of course. “She looked at him as if he was daft.
“I would have loved to help you today,” he told her with genuine regret. “Unfortunately, I am here for Alberton Star myself.”
Thea’s jaw set in an angry, aggravated line. “If you’ll let me in your stupid male auction —”
“Miss, it’s not a male auction,” the manager interjected. Thea silenced him with a glare.
“If you’ll just let me in the auction, I could buy him myself.” Her balled fists rested on her hips and damn, if she wasn’t a portrait of Athena.
“That’s doubtful.” Christian patted her arm and then suggested, “I’m happy to help you buy another horse.”
“What do you mean that’s doubtful? If I could go inside, I’d buy him.”
Christian shook his head. “No. I’m going to buy him for breeding.”
“So what? I have money. It’s an auction isn’t it? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been me who came out the winner?” She was more than angry now. Now she was incensed, ire flew off her in waves.
“I say,” the idiot manager interjected again. “You can’t come in. This is a ridiculous argument.”
Christian turned to face the man and asked with the utmost imperial dignity, “What is your name again, sir?”
“Mr. Durden, Frank Durden, Your Grace,” the man told him with all pomposity, as if he was announcing he was the Regent himself.
“Mr. Durden, if you don’t leave us right now I’ll see Robert Tattersall has you sacked.”
Mr. Durden gasped with righteous indignation. He looked to the crowd, and then to Christian’s friends for support, but he was only met with matching raised eyebrows. “I’m going to fetch Mr. Tattersall,” he muttered as he stomped away.
Christian turned back to Thea who still leveled him with a glare that rivaled his mother’s. “Tell me of another horse, and I’ll act as your agent.”
“I. Don’t. Want. Another. Horse,” she told him. “All I need is an agent to act for me, and then I can buy Alberton Star?”
“You’re never going to get that horse,” Christian told her again. “I’m buying him.”
“But, all I need is an agent?”
Christian sighed. “Yes, and I’m perfectly willing to help you buy any other horse.”
Thea glanced around her at the crowd and settled her sights on Harrington. “Will you act as my agent?” she asked Christian’s brother-in-law.
Harrington choked. “What?”
“Will you act as my agent and buy the horse I want?”
Harrington laughed, guffawed actually. He looked to Dalton, who was no help at all as he was laughing as well, and then to Christian who rolled his eyes in response to the ludicrous question. “What you really want is to buy the horse out from under Morewether here, correct?”
Thea nodded. “Money is no object.”
“Oh, Thea, don’t be ridiculous.” Christian had grown tired of this game. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked for confirmation from Dalton and Harrington that the argument was indeed entering into the absurd.
Harrington laughed again and then nodded. “Certainly, I’ll be your agent.”
Twenty minutes later and the three friends stood in front of the gathering of men watching Alberton Star as he was paraded around the ring. He was a stunning example of perfect breeding and linage, and Christian would have him. The horse’s bloodline would add innumerable benefits to his stable.
Christian looked at Harrington out of the corner of his eye. His best and oldest friend was reading over the program and conferring with Dalton. What the hell was he thinking? They had almost missed this particular auction because Harrington had been outside the gates deliberating with Thea for what seemed forever.
The fact that Thea wanted this horse, his horse, was gratifying. He knew she was a lover of horses, and almost as talented about judging the animals as he was himself, but she didn’t stand a chance of getting this animal.
Harrington would obviously let him win the animal and make his apologies to the woman. Christian was livid he wasn’t the one who could save the day and impress her. Why couldn’t she want a different horse? There were plenty of good options at the auction today that would be a perfectly serviceable mount if all she wanted was a thrilling ride. Of course, none of those particular horses were good enough for him, but he wanted bloodlines not race times.
“Gentlemen.” The auctioneer climbed to the dais and the auction commenced.
Christian nodded his bid. Harrington immediately upped it.
“How long are you going to keep up this farce?” Christian asked his brother-in-law.
“Until I win the horse for Miss Ashbrook.” Harrington raised his hand again for the top bid.
Christian nodded to the auctioneer and the top bid went back to him. “You’re not going to win. She’s not going to win.”
“We’ll see,” Harrington waved two fingers at the auctioneer.
Damn it. “All you’re doing at this point is raising the price of my horse.”
“Not your horse yet,” Dalton said, acting like he was being helpful.
Christian glared at Dalton and turned back to Harrington. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Harrington raised some other bidder. Christ, now he wasn’t even paying attention. What was the bid up to anyway?
“I’m not doing anything to you, Morewether.” Harrington slapped him on the back like he’d made a good billiards shot or something.
“The hell you’re not.”
“I’m helping you,” Harrington told him. What in Hades? Is he speaking in riddles now?
“What are you, the Sphinx?” Christian asked. Harrington didn’t answer. He was too busy raising his hand to up the bid again. “Put your damn hand down.”
Harrington gave him a smug smile and waggled his fingers at the auctioneer.
“I’m going to have to kill you, aren’t I?”
“You know what?” Dalton asked drawing a harassed look from Christian. “I really like Miss Ashbrook.”
“I do too,” Christian said, but it wasn’t a revelation or anything. He’d long known he liked her. “What does that have to do with anything?” Christian raised the bid with a fierce nod of his head.
“I think you do like her. A lot,” Dalton continued. “What do you like best about her?”
“Are you insane? I’m in a fight to the death here,” Christian yelled at his friend drawing curious looks from bystanders. He signaled to the auctioneer again.
“Humor me for a minute,” Dalton suggested. “What do you like best about her?”
Christian didn’t even need to devote his whole brain to the question. “She’s beautiful.”
“Indeed.”
“She’s absurdly smart. She adores horses.” Christian summoned a picture of the lady in question. “My family and friends love her.”
“Yes,” Dalton agreed. “Anything else?”
Christian closed his eyes for a second. He loved how she kept him on his toes. He loved how she kissed. He loved how she didn’t take any of his nonsense. He even loved how she made him feel slightly off center — something he’d never, ever experienced before.
He loved best how she made him want to be better, smarter, more.
“Pay attention, Morewether, I’m winning.” Harrington snapped him out of his revelry.
“Signal a bid,” Dalton urged and Christian blindly obeyed. “Do you like her a lot?”
Christian blinked at Dalton for what seemed an eternity. Finally he nodded.
“Bid again,” Dalton told him and he did so without thinking. “There is only one way I can see you coming out ahead here.”
“How?”
“You need to realize how much you like her, or if there’s more,” Dalton said with emphasis, “give her the horse, and you’ll come out with the bigger prize.”
Give her the horse? Christian closed his eyes again and Thea appeared before him, strong and beautiful. He imagined her response if he gave her Alberton Star. Merely imagining the scenario made him happy. He thought he understood.
Give her the horse.
Christian turned to Harrington. “I’ll give her the horse.”
“Superb. I can’t wait to tell her she won,” Harrington said, and raised the bid again.
“No,” Christian told him. “I want to give her the horse. Let me win, and I’ll give him to her.” Harrington narrowed his eyes at him. “I’ll give him to her,” he promised.
Harrington looked to Dalton who apparently gave his approval. “It worked.”
What worked? Had he just been tricked into something?
“You promise?” Harrington asked like they hadn’t been best friends since they were children.
“I give you my word.” Christian nodded to the auctioneer and won the bid, again.
“Going once,” the auctioneer announced. Harrington looked at him long and hard.
“I swear,” Christian said again.
“He will,” Dalton told Harrington with a nod.
“Going twice.”
Harrington tossed up his hands. “All right. We’re out.”
“Sold,” the auctioneer announced, “To the Duke of Morewether.”
Christian exhaled a long breath. Thank God. I think.
Harrington shook Christian’s hand and gave a hearty laugh. “I’m glad it’s not my purse.”
Wait, how much did this horse just cost?
Chapter Twelve
Christian had given his lovers many presents over the years. There were the I Had A Lovely Time Knocking You Last Weekend presents and the Now You’re Bothering Me, Goodbye necklaces and I’m Sorry I Made You Angry, But I’m Not Bored With You Yet bracelets and the Yes, But I Like Your Cousin Better ear bobs.
He couldn’t recall any of the previous gifts giving him stomach cramps before. He thought he’d understood what Harrington and Dalton had been trying for, but this was untried territory for him.
Was the infamous lover finally in love?
It seemed more likely he was getting hives.
Alberton Star clopped along beside him down St. James.
“She better really, really love you,” Christian told the horse whose only response was to toss his head and snort. “I’m not jesting. You’d better charm her and look very handsome.”
This got him a brown equine gaze and a long slow blink Christian translated as, Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control.
“God, I hope you do.”
Her townhouse loomed in front of him, rising from the street as a brick and mortar torture device. Christian exhaled a deep breath in a steady whoosh.
He climbed the several steps to her front door, extending both arms to their full length — one holding Alberton Star’s tether and the other to lift the knocker on the great oak door. The footman appeared almost instantly.
“Is your mistress at home?” The footman nodded in the affirmative and made quite a show of not acknowledging the stallion who bit a chunk out of the manicured hedge. “Tell her the Duke of Morewether is here.”
Christian concentrated on breathing until the door swung open once again, and he was robbed of his breath by the beautiful smile that lit Thea’s face.
“I was expecting Lord Harrington,” she told him as she hopped down the steps.
“I’m much better looking than my brother-in-law.”
Thea raised her eyebrows. “The horse certainly is.
”
“I won him,” he told her and waited for her reaction. She didn’t reveal much, just a twitch of a scowl and the beginnings of a frown which spoiled the earlier smile.
“Well, you must know how disappointed I am,” she confessed. Her hands fluttered at her sides as if she wanted to touch the horse but thought better of it. “I’d expected Harrington to take me at my word that I had no spending limit.”
“Oh, he did.” Christian thought about the bank draft he’d have to sign later and inwardly groaned. “I had to convince him of my good intentions before he gave up.”
Thea’s jaw dropped. “He gave up? That leaves me quite perturbed.”
“You shouldn’t. I’m quite certain he and Dalton worked together to drive the price up to torture me.”
Thea crossed her arms over her chest and appeared no less irritated. “So you came here to gloat, then.”
“No,” Christian extended his hand to her. She stared at it for a heartbeat before she grudgingly gave him her hand. He tugged her closer. “I am not here to gloat. I’m here for introductions.”
Thea more deeply furrowed her brow. Even a wrinkled forehead was adorable on her. Christian did realize how nauseating that thought was, but he didn’t care.
“Miss Althea Ashbrook, may I present Alberton Star.” He handed her the tether.
“You’ve bought yourself a gorgeous stud horse, Christian.” She finally stroked the horse’s nose and sighed. Alberton Star clearly understood the plan because he leaned into her hand and snuffled.
“He’s my gift to you.”
Thea’s eyes flew to meet his gaze. “What?”
“He’s yours.”
“Why would you do that?” She looked back to the horse, her gaze softening as she rubbed his velvet nose.
“I’m still working on that,” he confessed. Their conversation had lowered to intimate tones now that Christian had closed the gap between them. The sleeve of his jacket brushed against her arm and the hem of her skirt touched his boot. No one passing on the walk would have heard their conversation. “I wanted to get you a present.”
“He’s so … so … I can’t accept him,” she said on a wistful sigh.
“Of course you can and you will. You are Althea the Greek. You don’t participate in any of London’s rules unless they suit you.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
The Duke of Morewether’s Secret Page 10
