Chapter Nineteen #2
Her mother sighed, tired. ‘Ismay, do not make this horse race about women’s rights.’
‘Well? Is that the only reason Black Diamond’s Promise is a long shot? Because she’s a pretty female?’
Her father set down his newspaper with an agitated rustle.
‘Yes, it is, Ismay. Is that what you want me to say? She’s not as big or as strong as the other horses which, yes, are stallions or geldings.
Be fair. She’s a lovely horse and she does have her uses, but winning races against thoroughbreds is not one of them. ’
‘Uses? As in being a brood-mare?’ Ismay could not stop herself.
‘Ismay!’ her mother scolded. ‘You do not talk to your father that way. Nor is such talk of breeding appropriate conversation.’
She felt Alistair’s gaze land on her briefly.
She looked up to see mischief spark secret and deep in his blue eyes, and for a moment they were united once more, animosity set aside for one last prank, one last dare before it was over.
This was how it had been that first day, too, the two of them united in a ruse that was at the time focused on dislike.
Alistair cleared his throat. ‘I think I will double my bet, then, on principle and because it pleases my fiancée.’ He flashed a brilliant smile her direction.
Did he mean any part of that smile? Was there any forgiveness for her in it for what she was requiring him to do?
Why should there be? She hadn’t forgiven herself.
‘Perhaps Ismay would prefer you take that sum and donate it to a worthy cause in her name instead of tossing it away. Some families work all year for the princely sum you intend to wager.’ Her father tried one last time to reason with Alistair as the carriage pulled behind the other carriages gathered on the verge at the informal starting line of the race.
She could save him with one word. Yes. Yes, she’d prefer the money go usefully to charity.
If he were to accede to her wishes it would demonstrate their match was salvageable—neither of them too reckless yet to see good sense.
Instead she said, ‘No, I think you’re right, Alistair.
You must bet on principle now. Father has dared you, and the dare must be accepted. ’
Alistair gave her hand the tiniest of approving squeezes as he handed her down from the carriage. The damage was done. Completely. Thoroughly.
This race was to be conducted on the road, given that Naples lacked a formal horse-racing venue like Newmarket, but the absence of a track did not mean the absence of a festive atmosphere.
Despite the grey clouds, carriage tops were down and baskets full of teatime delicacies were unpacked, while trays of champagne were circulating, compliments of Lord Danton.
There would be an hour’s worth of socialising before the horses were lined up.
The race was to be a two-mile endeavour across Danton’s land, followed by a supper at Danton’s home before guests drove back to the city.
Alistair managed this final act of their performance masterfully.
Keeping Ismay by his side, he spent his time mingling with the gambling crowd, the young men who’d wager heavily and rashly, as opposed to staying with her father and his business acquaintances.
It was easy for Alistair to settle in among the ranks of the young bucks.
He was immensely popular with them after last night, having indirectly helped several of them pad their allowances at the hazard table.
‘Who do you like for the race?’ he was asked more than once, to which he answered, ‘That’s my secret. If I tell you, you will ruin my odds.’ Then he’d laugh, and even the most insistent would laugh with him.
‘If only I had half of your charm,’ Ismay said as they drifted between groups.
‘You do, Ismay. And twice my courage.’
‘Maybe that’s my problem. People don’t respect women with courage.
’ She gave a half-hearted smile. It was hard being with him like this, pretending nothing had changed because nothing had changed for their audience.
For the public, they were still wild Alistair and Ismay, an affianced couple that danced too close to the edge, goaded there by each other.
But behind the scenes, it was already over.
The horses were approaching the starting line.
Soon, it would truly be over. ‘I’m sorry, Alistair. ’
‘You can still change your mind.’ He whispered the temptation. ‘Until the starting gun goes off, I can tell your father I took his advice and gave the wager to charity.’
‘You know I can’t. We can’t. This is a moment of weakness, that’s all.’ Like last night. They’d given in to anger and vented that on each other, physically, verbally.
He gave a curt nod, his smiling eyes shuttering as he disengaged her arm. ‘Then, excuse me. I have a bet to place.’
He’d not placed the bet yet? With only minutes to go before the race began?
That one thought stayed with her as she joined her parents in the stands at the starting line.
Why had Alistair waited so long? Was it because he’d hoped the outcome might be different?
That she’d change her mind? He had pinned his hopes on her until the last.
She felt sick. He’d hoped, and she’d taken that hope away from him.
Just as he had the most to gain had they wed, he also had the most to lose in the success of their ruse.
Their success meant taking the future from him—a future he’d professed not to want when this began, but one that had become more appealing to him as time went on.
Alistair joined them, sliding a private look her direction as the last horse hoofed the line. The horses were restive, heads tossing, hooves stomping in eagerness to be off. ‘It is done, my love. Just as you asked.’ It was the beginning of the end.