“I appreciate it.”
Connells left the table and John turned to Sims. “When do you plan on telling Victoria?”
“Tomorrow morning. She’ll argue, but cooler heads will prevail.”
“How is she?”
“Past the anger. Disappointment has set in. I can hardly bear it. She’s quiet. Working a great deal. Training Tychee and avoiding her father. She means to leave once she wins the race on Saturday. She’s been sending letters to the relatives.”
“Has she heard back from anyone?”
“Not yet.”
John nodded. As long as she was still in Beetham, he had a chance. “Thank you, Sims.”
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. She didn’t deserve any of this.”
“No, she didn’t, but with any luck, this will make up for it,” John said.
Chapter 12
The Kendal track was nothing more than a groomed circle of turf three miles west of Kendal. Low stone walls, hastily assembled, lined the mile-long track. The track was new, the grass fresh. Tents and temporary stalls had been put up around the starting post.
Victoria followed behind Sims as they made their way through the morning wet grass to where Tychee waited.
She’d dressed carefully today, in a deep purple walking dress with silver trim. She covered her face with a wide brimmed bonnet that kept people from getting too close. She wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for the scandal and the notoriety that came with it, but she was determined to stand by her horse when the race was won.
Her horse. She still shook at the news. It had taken nearly two hours of arguing to convince her that Sims owned Tychee. Then a bit longer for Sims to convince her to take Tychee.
Then she had to tell her father. It had taken ten minutes to realize that Father had no faith in her at all. Tychee was just luck and had nothing to do with her skill as a breeder or trainer. He saw no point in racing the horse except to bring more embarrassment upon him. It was always about him.
Not this time. Winning this race was critical to moving on with her life. This time it was for her.
She had come downstairs this morning early for a bit of tea and toast, too nervous to eat anything else. Her father had stood in the office door then turned his back on her. Frankly, she preferred his silence to his shouting and complaining. If things went as planned today, she wouldn’t be here for very much longer. Her cousin, Margaret, would be happy to welcome her for an extended stay. Margaret and her husband lived in the lowlands of Scotland, the perfect place for both Tychee and Victoria.
All she had to do was win the race. Then she could take the hundred gold sovereigns and leave.
They approached the temporary stables where the horses were waiting for the post. Sims’ son, Thomas, stood ready wearing her colors. Her colors, how strange that sounded.
“Good morning, Thomas.”
“Good morning, Miss Penwith.”
Victoria approached Tychee who was already moving towards her looking for her treat. “No treat today, my friend, we have a race to win.”
The horse nudged her hand. She stroked the velvety nose and looked her in the eyes. “Today’s the day, my dear friend,” she whispered. Tychee’s ears pricked. “You will do us proud. Run fast and true. Show them that you are the best.”
Tychee snorted as if she agreed and placed her large head by Victoria’s neck, knocking her bonnet askew. She pushed the bonnet out of the way and stroked Tychee’s face and neck in long soothing motions. Horses were not dumb animals but highly intelligent. They responded better to kindness and gentleness rather than a whip.
Tychee was so eager to please, she raced like the wind. She knew her job and did it.
“Miss Penwith, I think we’re ready today. Are you nervous?”
Victoria looked at Thomas. “No, I’m not. Tychee is ready. She’s strong, healthy, and excited. Aren’t you, girl.”
Thomas stroked the horse as well. “She’s the best horse, I’ve ridden, ma’am.”
Victoria grinned at him. “She is indeed. I inspected the turf as much as possible, looking for holes, but did not see any.”
“We took Tychee out for a trot on the course yesterday. It’s pretty flat. We should be fine. There is a large crowd, but I don’t think the noise will bother her overmuch.”
“It’s the one thing we couldn’t train her for. The Lancaster race had her skittish just from all the shouting from the crowd.”
“There ain’t enough people in Beetham to train her for the noise she’ll deal with at Newcastle, ma’am.”
Newcastle was a lost dream. “I think we’ll worry about this race today, and let the future work itself out.”
Sims cleared his throat. “Miss Penwith, there are two gentlemen here to see you.”
Victoria knew that John and Mr. Connells would be here. John’s horse was in the race. She straightened her bonnet, tightened the ribbons under her chin, and smoothed her skirts in an effort to stall long enough to lock her emotions behind a polite mask. She turned with a slight smile. “Gentlemen, what brings you here today? Planning to stop me from racing?”
“Victoria—”
“Actually, Miss Penwith, I’m here to give you a bit of news. I’m going to delay my report to the Jockey Club until I return to Newcastle.”
“What about me?”
“Your name has never appeared in any of the racing papers as a trainer or owner, so you won’t be included when your father is blackballed.”
“It won’t stop the scandal.”
“Depends on the wording of the scandal, Miss Penwith. As of right now, he doesn’t have any horses that qualify. He’s lost his trainer, and his winning horse. It will take a few years to battle back from those losses. I think the racing world is safe from your father for the time being.”
“He will try again. There are other horses there with the potential of Tychee.”
“There will, but without membership, he won’t be able to enter the top races. The Jockey Club is a tight-knit group. Whispers in the proper places will keep your father at bay.”
Her mind was spinning. She looked at John. This had to be his doing.
“Good day, Miss Penwith,” Mr. Connells said.
“Thank you, Mr. Connells.” The words didn’t seem big enough.
Connells left, walking towards the area where the crowds had set up tents and tables to watch the race. She bit her lip and looked at John.
Sims grabbed his son’s arm and hauled him away from the stalls to give them privacy.
“Thank you. John. You didn’t have to do this.”
“It wasn’t my doing. It was Sims. He owned the horse.” He paused with a pleading look that pulled at her heart. “Victoria—”
His voice, rough, soft was like a caress of her soul. She’d missed him. She imagined she always would. “Yes?”
He took her gloved hand and pressed his lips to it. “Good luck today.”
He dropped her hand and turned to leave. She watched in shock as he pushed his way out of the stables and into the gathering crowds. He was gone before she could say a word. And she wanted to say a word. A few words, actually. She dropped her hand to her side and stared after him, feeling her future was walking away from her.
“Here you are! We’ve been looking for you,” Juliet Matthews said coming up behind her.
Victoria pushed back the urge to chase after John and turned to face his sister. She pressed her cheek to Juliet’s. “I’m so happy you came. I wasn’t sure I could do this on my own.”
Mr. Matthews was still watching John. “It doesn’t appear that you were alone, Miss Penwith.”
“Sir John stopped to wish me well. Where shall we stand? I had no idea there would be so many people in Kendal.”
“I have a spot already reserved for us where you’ll be able to see the race and the finish line, Miss Penwith. If you’d like to join us.”
“Thank you. I would like that.” She took the arm that Matthews offered a
nd allowed him to lead her through the crowds. She couldn’t stop looking for John. “Will Sir John be joining us?”
“No,” Juliet said.
The question “why” screamed through her head, but she knew why and she couldn’t fault him for wanting to keep his distance since she’d refused his offer of marriage.
They reached the edge of the race track where chairs had been set up for the three of them. She took a seat next to Juliet.
“I can fetch us some refreshments, if you like.” Matthews said.
Juliet smiled. “That would be lovely.”
Victoria settled into the chair and folded her hands in her lap, trying to be calm.
“You’re nervous.”
“I guess I’m not hiding it very well. So much is dependent upon Tychee winning this race. So much has happened, I can hardly believe it. Tychee is mine.”
“John told us. I can’t believe he paid Sims so much money for the horse.”
“What do you mean? Mr. Sims gave me the horse.”
Juliet pressed her lips together. “Forget I said anything. It should not have slipped out. John didn’t want you to know.”
She turned in her chair and gripped Juliet’s hand. “You have to tell me. Now. Please.”
“John will kill me. Mr. Sims sent him a note explaining that in exchange for fixing races, Sims would get Tychee if they were ever caught. He knew that this would blackball Rosethorne Stables from racing in England. It would also mean Mr. Sims would never be able to find work if word got out that he was involved.”
“It will ruin him.”
“So, John bought Tychee from Sims. This way he could give you the horse, and Sims would be able to leave Rosethorne.”
John was not a wealthy man. “Where did he get the money?”
“Good question. He’s still rebuilding his own estate.” Juliet squeezed her hand. “He must love you very much.”
It was too much. It cost him too much. “I can’t accept this.”
“That’s why he didn’t want you to know.” Juliet studied her for a long moment. “May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“The day of the fair in Milnthorpe, when we visited Madame Zeta? What was your fortune?”
It was such a strange question and with everything else on her mind, she had to think about it. “It was an odd assortment of cards: the Devil, Death, the World, and a King, if I remember correctly. She told me that there would be a gentleman who would bring me my heart’s desire and change my life. She told me I would know him with a kiss.”
Juliet shot her a grin. “I don’t suppose you’ve kissed John yet, have you?”
Victoria felt her face heat then wonder coursed over her in waves. “Good Lord, she was right.”
“How so?”
“John did give me my heart’s desire.” Victoria stood quickly, toppling the wooden chair behind her. “I need to find him.”
“But the race—”
“This is much more important than a race, Juliet.”
Victoria dashed into the crowds searching for John. She wanted to shout his name, but the noise of the crowds would have drowned her out. Where could he be? Surely, he hadn’t left. Oh, please, God, don’t let him leave.
She rushed up to Mr. Matthews who was carrying refreshments. “Have you seen John?”
“Careful, Miss Penwith.”
“Please, tell me where John is.”
“He is over by the finish line, at the edge of the crowds.”
“Thank you!” She turned to race off in that direction.
“You’ll miss the race, Miss Penwith!”
“I don’t care!” she shouted as she hurried through the crowds.
John would wait until the race was done before he left Kendal to return to Beetham. He’d already contacted his estate to let them know of his return. It was time to go home and he was dreading it. Before coming back to Beetham, he was excited to see Victoria again. He’d spent three years building her up in his mind. It was foolish, he knew that now. You can’t make someone love you. And if they did love you, you couldn’t make them marry you.
He thought about the fortune he’d received at the fair. The gypsy woman had warned him to be cautious and not rush headlong into things. Yet, he’d done just that. He’d pushed and now he was alone.
He felt gutted inside, a hollow shell. It would pass. He’d get over it, but he didn’t like it, not one bit. You’d think after years of hedging bets and failing he would have figured out that trying to rearrange the world to suit him was not ever going to work.
The crowds quieted as a loud voice announced the race. He was too far to see the actual race, but that was just as well. He’d paid for a winner. He expected the same. Victoria would have her money and he would know she now had means to escape her father. As a shot was fired to start the race, he turned to find his carriage and leave.
“Sir John! John! Wait!”
It sounded like Victoria, but that couldn’t be. She’d be with Matthews watching the race.
“John!”
He finally turned to see Victoria running towards him, her skirts held up revealing her trim ankles and half boots. She stumbled to a stop in front of him and he placed his hands on her arms to steady her. “What are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t let – you – just leave.” She huffed out the words while trying to catch her breath. “Give me a minute.”
He released her arms and took a step back. “You should be watching the race.”
“No. That’s not where I should be, John.”
“But—”
She stepped close and placed her fingertips against his lips. “Please let me speak.”
He nodded his acceptance, but was hesitant, afraid to hope.
“Thank you.”
“I –”
She covered his mouth again. Her eyes were filled with so much emotion that he couldn’t keep the hope from bubbling up.
“No. Not your turn yet.”
John pressed his lips together tightly to fight the smile that was threatening to burst out.
“You did not have to buy Tychee, John. Sims would have raced the horse and we could have split the money. I would have had enough to leave Beetham without your interference.”
“You love that horse—” Gloved fingers pressed a bit harder against his mouth.
“You really need to work on listening, Sir John.” She removed her hand and pulled in a deep breath. “I’ve come to some decisions that you need to be aware of now that I have Tychee.”
He said nothing, just waited patiently, though that was practically impossible given the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him and how she leaned slightly into him when she spoke. To smell her floral scent so close was the best for of torture.
“I have a horse yet no stables to keep her in. I have a race horse yet no way of getting her to those races.”
“Surely a family member—” Her mouth pressed against his in a soft kiss.
“I have a business proposition for you.”
“Please continue.” He could barely contain the happiness inside him.
“I’ve heard that you keep a very good stable, sir, but are lacking the appropriate trainer for your horses.”
“You have someone in mind?”
“Indeed, I do.”
“Is he qualified?”
“She is very qualified as a trainer of horses, but not so good at keeping a house. John, if your offer is available, I would be honored to accept your hand in marriage.”
“Why?”
Her cheeks grew delightfully pink. “Because Madam Zeta told me that I would meet a man who would change my world. She was right.”
John placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer until their bodies touched. He took one hand and pushed the ridiculous bonnet from her face. “What else did she say?”
“That I would know him from his kiss.”
“We should test that theory, don’t you think?” Hi
s mouth brushed hers, then he kissed her fully, not caring what anyone thought around them. She melted into him, her arms coming around his neck. She rose on her tiptoes against him.
Around him people laughed and cheered. There were a few inappropriate comments made by a few men who’d probably had a bit too much beer.
John ended the kiss but didn’t release Victoria. “Marry me?”
“What about the scandal?”
“We could give them something else to talk about?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Say a trip to Scotland?”
Victoria laughed. “I think we should see who won the race.”
“Does it matter?”
She smiled at him and shook her head. “No, it doesn’t, because I’ve won more than I ever dreamed of right here, right now. I love you, John.”
He kissed her softly. “I love you, too. And not for your gift with horses. Though it would be nice to win this race and recoup some of the blunt I paid Sims.”
She laughed and pressed her mouth to his. “I can make it up to you.” Her voice was seductive and filled with promise. “Tonight, if you wish.”
“Scotland’s not that far away.”
She grinned. “Thank God.”
About the Author
Eileen Richards writes sassy, sexy historical romance because life is too short to not be naughty. Her first series was the Regency-set A Lady's Wish, in which three sisters finds themselves with unexpected love after they makes wishes on the fairy steps. Currently, she is writing the Kings of Industries series, featuring self-made men who take the Industrial Revolution by storm with their maverick ways and brilliant minds. Whether set in London society or a small village, her stories are about love, laughter, and family. When not writing, Eileen loves to cook, read, and play the flute. She resides in North Carolina with her husband (of too many years to mention) and a diva greyhound called Honey. You can visit her online at eileenrichardsauthor.com.
Acknowledgments
This book was not very cooperative and was written in fits and starts. I had the beginning and the end but had no idea what the middle was going to do. Usually, things kind of progress from a rough outline, but not this time. I was so ready to just chuck it so many times. If it weren’t for Christina McKnight and Erica Monroe, this book would have been a file designated to a corner of my computer’s hard drive. Thank you both. I love you!
Fortune's Wish (Fortunes of Fate Book 4) Page 11