It was no use. She couldn’t keep her mind on herb gathering. She sat down upon the garden bench and looked up at the mercurial sky. Far to the west, rain clouds gathered, but overhead the sun shone. She looked for a rainbow, then stopped herself. She should run for the house before the rain started, instead of waiting for rainbows. Yet she was reluctant to leave her garden—the one place she had always found serenity. Until now. Perhaps in time…
A pair of golden butterflies flittered among the yellow lilies. Inhaling the sweet fragrance, she was reminded of the lily gardens at Havencrest, and for another fleeting moment, wondered where Dalton was and what he was doing before she stopped herself.
A hard lump formed in her throat. Without even trying, she could hear his rich laughter and smell the sandalwood infused in his clothing. She was bedeviled by another flood of memories.
Suddenly, she heard a soft nicker, then a velvet nose nuzzled her ear. Startled, Alicia jumped and turned to catch Cinnamon Rose’s wet kiss across her face.
“Cinnamon Rose!” The basket of herbs dropped from her lap, as Alicia almost fell off the bench. She glanced around for an explanation. Had one of the servants brought the mare from Havencrest? No one was in sight.
She rubbed the mare’s satiny chestnut nose. The animal tossed her head, the black mane ruffling in the breeze. Alicia stood, looking toward the manor house grounds from where the animal must have come.
Alicia grabbed the mare’s bridle and strolled from the garden. At the curve of the drive stood the ducal carriage with six white Lusitano horses. Her heart constricted with yearning. She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she might be dreaming.
“I was hoping I would find you in the garden.”
Alicia froze. Her heart hammered. She was afraid to move. She forced herself to face him.
Dalton leaned against the trunk of the willow, his blue eyes heated with unspoken desire.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I’ve brought you Cinnamon Rose.” His voice was rich and low. The sound warmed her blood. “Don’t you remember our agreement?”
Her throat ached with disappointment. What had she expected him to say? She could only nod, afraid to trust her voice.
“You look much like you did the first time I saw you,” he said. “Do you remember, Alicia?”
She nodded, hoping to keep the tears at bay.
“I thought you were the most hard-hearted vixen I’d ever met. You accepted my offer to heal Bashshar on your own terms, remember?”
What was he doing? Tormenting her? Didn’t he know how the sight of him filled her with yearning? She refused to cry. “As my legal husband, Cinnamon Rose belongs to you.” Relieved that her voice sounded strong and steady, she had no sooner spoken when she wondered if he had somehow arranged for a divorce. A shudder of disbelief coursed through her.
Why hadn’t she thought of that before? He would have legal grounds if he believed she had been unfaithful.
She rounded on him. “Why are you really here?” She braced herself for his answer. Dear God, when had he become so cruel as to confront her with a plea of divorce?
“I’m here to say that my first impressions of you were wrong.” He bowed, and when he stood, he was smiling. “And my last impression of you was also wrong, Alicia. I know that now, and I’m here to ask your forgiveness.” His smile faded and the expression on his handsome face was deep with remorse.
She turned her back to him, rubbing the mare’s satiny coat. “What changed your mind, Dalton?”
After a very long silence, he finally said, “Memories. Memories of you. I remembered your grace and your goodness. I remembered your sweet smile and how you brought sunshine to everything around you. You’re everything bright and beautiful in my life, Alicia. And when you left, my world went dark. My darling, I can’t go on any longer without you.”
She must be dreaming. This wasn’t the proud and aloof Dalton she knew. “How do you know you won’t tire of me?” She turned and met his gaze. The look of surprise on his face shocked her.
“Tire of you? Could I tire of moonlight? Of rainbows? Of birdsong?” He took her in his arms. “You mean that to me and more, my darling. I love you, Alicia. Please say you forgive me.”
“You love me?” She wanted to see his eyes when he said those words again.
He smiled. “Of course I love you. I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you, beneath the willows with Cinnamon Rose. I thought you were the most magnificent filly I’d ever seen.”
She smiled. “You’ve never said the words before.”
“Alicia, my sweet. What we have between us goes beyond words.” He kissed her with undisguised longing.
When he pulled back, his heated gaze made her head spin. She felt some of her old doubt return. “You believe me this time. What about the next time you see me with a man…?”
His smile faded. “I’ve asked myself that very question. I knew in my heart that you’ve always been faithful to me. It was as though…fate had left me in the same situation as my father. When my mother helped me overcome that problem—”
“Your mother?”
He smiled. “She most assuredly convinced me that I was a stubborn fool if I let you get away.”
Joy bubbled up inside her.
He kissed her fingers. “In my heart, I’ve always known that, but my foolish pride wouldn’t let me see the truth.”
She smiled, her hand cradled his strong cheekbone.
“I love you, my darling.” His voice was raw. “I’m so sorry for what I said. Please find it in your heart to forgive me.”
She smiled, unable to keep the tears of joy from spilling.
His mouth came crushing down upon hers. Cinnamon Rose nickered softly, pushing her head in between them. They drew back, laughing.
Dalton hooked his arm through hers. “I’m sure about something else.” He drew her close again. “I’m not going to be able to control myself much longer.” She smiled and his mouth settled upon hers again.
“When can we leave for Havencrest?” she asked when he finally released her.
“Immediately. Your father said that he will lend me fresh horses. I can only hope he won’t trade away my Lusitanos.”
She chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’ve come to trust my father, too?”
“I’m in love, my darling, not senile.” Her honeyed laughter sounded like music to him. “I invited your family to go to the Newmarket Classic with us. Your father will drive my team to Havencrest, and we’ll leave for Newmarket from there. Mother will be there. Olivia and Robert will join us, too.”
“I can’t wait.” She closed her arms around his neck, her heart nearly bursting with love for him.
The sun shone brightly as carriages of every description lined the racing course at Newmarket. From the open curricle, Alicia raised her parasol and studied the jockeys and racing entries line up for the next race.
“Here comes Jupiter,” Dalton said, peering through a set of binoculars. He handed them to her. “Watch the people in the carriages,” he said with pride. “Look how every eye is on him.”
From the next carriage, Neal Spencer sat beside his wife, watching the string of entrants. “That mystery entry is quite a long shot, Wexton. Willing to wager a little side bet on an unknown against Jupiter?”
Dalton shrugged. “Probably some flea nag the racing board thought might help raise the odds.” His blue eyes warmed as he smiled at Alicia. “Don’t worry, my love. Jupiter is favored to win.”
Alicia sent a warning look to her father. He winked back, enjoying the rare chance to try to best his wary son-in-law.
Frankly, she was worried. She should have word from Ulger by now, assuring her that Bashshar had arrived and had taken well to the handlers. What if Bashshar’s old fear were to return?
No, everything would be all right, she assured herself. It had to be. Just then, she caught the eye of Ulger across the field standing with a group of stablers. He tipped his hat to he
r. She wondered if Dalton would see him. She had a pickle of a time getting Dalton to leave early enough so the handlers could bring Bashshar to the race without alerting Dalton’s suspicion.
“Here comes Robert and Olivia,” Dalton said as a shiny black two-horse carriage approached. “And the dowager duchess is with them,” Alicia said.
Alicia leaned over and whispered in Dalton’s ear. “Has Templestone been brought to trial?” she asked.
Dalton chuckled. “No, my dear. To save a scandal, we came to an understanding. I wouldn’t press charges if he promised to leave the country. Besides, he knows I have proof that he’s a blackmailer. He won’t want his next widow to know of his shady past.”
She and the dowager exchanged pleasantries, and Alicia felt a surge of relief and happiness.
Dalton squeezed her hand. “You’ve given your healing touch to all of us. The family will always be indebted,” he said, his eyes shining with gratitude.
A trumpet blared and the horses began to line up. The crowd hooted and shouted as the mystery horse and rider rode in line with the other horses.
The dowager peered through her opera glasses at Bashshar, disguised in a handsome black silk covering. All but his black ears and legs were hidden. The jockey was disguised in a matching black uniform, cap and mask.
Neal Spencer’s ruddy face beamed. “Not too late to place a wager, your ladyship.”
The dowager sniffed. “A wise woman only wagers on a sure thing.” She smiled at Alicia. “Don’t you agree, my dear?”
“Very sage advice,” Alicia said, then winked.
Dalton studied the mystery entry with more than curiosity. “Here, darling, take a look.” He held the glasses for Alicia. “I’d say that mystery horse hasn’t raced before in England. I would have noticed. Good legs, from what we can see of them.”
Alicia’s pulse pounded with excitement. She could hardly think about what Bashshar was going through. Oh, please let everything be all right, she prayed.
The trumpet blasted and the horses were off. The thundering hooves pounded the grass, and the carriages began to follow the horses along the field. From where Alicia and Dalton’s carriage stood, the riders would race by in less than a minute. Her heart was in her mouth.
“Dalton, which horse is in the lead?” she asked, holding on to her hat.
“Jupiter’s in the lead!” Dalton jumped up. “Look at him go!”
Neal Spencer cheered. “Quite a jewel in the crown for Marston Heath if our Jupiter takes the Cup.”
Alicia forced herself to open her eyes. She stood up and looped her arm through Dalton’s. The horses raced past, and Dalton took the reins and drove the carriage toward the finish line along with the horde of spectators.
Alicia sat back, praying only that the ordeal wouldn’t harm Bashshar. What if the stallion panicked? What if entering Bashshar had been a terrible mistake?
The race was over as the horses pushed past the finish line. Unable to see over the tall hats, she asked Dalton, “Who won?”
“And the winner is…”
“The winner is…the mystery entry!” Dalton’s smile faded. He fell silent as he helped her from the carriage. “Come, my dear. I know you’ll want to see Jupiter.”
She took his arm as they moved through the jostling crowd. When they reached the winner’s circle, Lord Teddy, the senior member of the racing board was speaking to the winning jockey.
“Congratulations, Dalton,” Teddy said. “Duchess,” he said to Alicia with a courtly bow, “my very best wishes to you both.”
Dalton glanced up, confused. Teddy stepped forward, holding the large silver racing cup. “This year’s winner’s cup belongs to the mystery entry, Bashshar, the four-year-old Thoroughbred champion owned by Dalton Warfield, the duke of Wexton.”
Amid the cheering crowd, Dalton shook his head. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true, Dalton.” She glanced to the winner’s circle where the jockey dismounted, then pulled off the silk mask.
“Penn!” Dalton exclaimed. With the trophy tucked under one arm, he led Alicia to where the grooms were removing the final skirting from Bashshar. The horse tossed his head, whinnying as Alicia stroked his powerful neck.
Well-wishers circled them as Dalton congratulated Penn. The lad, his face as crimson as his hair, beamed with pride.
“I wanted Jupiter to win for you,” Dalton said, his voice hoarse. She had sacrificed so much for him. All he wanted now was to take her home and show her how much he loved her.
“Dalton, look.” She pointed to the runner-up bouquet of roses shaped into a horseshoe. “Jupiter came in second!”
A groom ran up and took the roses, and Dalton waved to the cheering well-wishers as they made their way to their carriage.
“We should hurry, Dalton. Your mother has invited some of her friends and our families for a small celebration. You see, I had confided in her that Bashshar was the mystery entry. I felt it only fair since my father knew. Besides, I was afraid my father might take unfair advantage and haggle her into a wager.”
He laughed. “That I’d like to see.” He joined her laughter, and he realized what it truly meant to be happy. He lovingly stroked a finger across her cheek.
“I’ve just realized something, Dalton.” Alicia looked up at him, her beautiful brown eyes brimming with delight.
“And what is that, my love?”
“No matter how the race turned out, we still would have won. For we have each other, my darling.”
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
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First published in Great Britain 2013
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Paperback edition 2013
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Jackie Manning 2001
eISBN: 978-1-472-01223-4
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Copyright
Taming the Duke Page 27
