“Given everything, he may have increased it as an incentive.” Raines shrugged. “But I’d prefer not to have the ton whispering behind us at every ball.”

“Not even for thirty thousand?” Wareham giggled. “And a horse that knows the track?”

“Mind your step, Wareham,” Jasper growled. I will not hit him. I promised Fiona I wouldn’t beat every oaf who maligned her.

“Some bargains are too expensive,” Raines said. “The same could be said of Miss Spencer. All the polish in the world could never compensate for her snake of a father.” He gathered his plate and moved to another table, immediately distracting both Miss Wallace and Miss Bainbridge from their escorts, who would only inherit modest earldoms.

Just when the conversation was getting interesting.

Jasper left Wareham at the table alone and joined Kit in the shadows.

“You look ready to chew nails,” his friend said. “Have you called someone out?”

“Not yet. But I cannot guarantee Wareham will leave in the same condition in which he arrived.”

“Wait until he’s drunk.” Kit barked a laugh. “At least then he won’t remember.”

As luncheon ended, the only noises were the cries of hawks overhead and the chuffs of horses eager to return to their stalls. It was quiet enough to hear the hum of whispers, and bright enough to see the glances spearing toward Fiona and Annabel walking along the ridge line.

Jasper stood. “Why don’t we race downhill back to the hall? If I’m going to spend a lazy afternoon, I’d prefer it be without spiders.”

The mention of skittering creatures had Miss Bainbridge and Miss Wallace hurrying for their horses, and the promise of a race had the same effect on Raines and Wareham. Even Kit seemed excited as he escorted the chaperones to their carriage.

Jasper shared a conspiratorial wink with Fiona as he lifted her into the saddle. “Give them a fair shot, Fi.”

“Not on your life,” she crowed as she maneuvered to the agreed-upon starting line.

Annabel was the only guest not focused on race preparations. Jasper joined her, putting his back to the starting line to watch a pair of hawks soar and dance through the valley below. They called to one another as they followed the silvery-blue river that seemed no wider than a ribbon.

“Can you imagine being that free?” she whispered. He wasn’t certain she knew he was at her side.

As the birds vanished from sight, she stepped forward to search them out, but hesitated. In her green habit, she blended into the landscape like a creature afraid to be seen.

Or perhaps afraid to lose her balance.

He put an arm around her waist and coaxed her to the edge. “I won’t let you fall.”

She trembled with each step, but she took them.

Jasper craned to look over her head and watch the couple battle and flirt as they skimmed close to the cliffs. “Are any of us free, Miss Pearce?”

Her smile faltered, and the shutters muted the sparkle in her eyes. The wind grew colder around them.

“We’re all freer than some, but not as free as others, I suppose.” She turned toward her horse, leaving Jasper to follow as he saw fit.

He bent to help her into the saddle. As expected, she balked.

“I can wait for a stable hand.”

Jasper didn’t relent. “Wareham will cheat and claim his horse was too restless to wait.”

“Fine, then.” She put her foot in his hands and allowed him to help her mount. Her soft wool skirt teased his wrist, and her simple scent was the perfect complement to a spring picnic.

He watched her until she was settled. “Give the mare her head, Miss Pearce. It’s as close as you’ll come to flying today. None will catch her.”

Jasper was still speaking when Wareham leapt with a whoop meant to startle his opponents in the race. “First to the other side of the lake—by land and not by water!”

Jasper charged from the rear, low over Ceff’s neck, the dark mane tickling his cheek. He gave Kit a mocking salute as he sped past.

Only one other rider caught his attention. Annabel had swung wide of the pack. Lying almost flat, she seemed to be floating on her horse’s ribs, as though her riding cane was all that was keeping her steady. She’d lost her hat, and her hair streamed behind her like a banner.

Jasper veered to the left to give chase, and his smile widened as the ground leveled beneath Ceff’s thudding hooves. Annabel had surveyed the course and found the fastest ground, and the safest for her horse.

He arrived at the finish line half a length behind Annabel. Fiona came third, tied with a swearing Raines.

Jasper didn’t know the rest of the rankings. He didn’t even know the basis of the argument that had broken out between Miss Bainbridge and Miss Wallace.

Annabel’s eyes were sparkling over her wide, brilliant smile. Her cheeks were pink from the air, and her loose hair framed her face. She draped over her horse’s neck in a celebratory embrace as they walked to the stables.

“Did you hear me, Rabbit?” Fiona asked.

“Hmm?” Jasper urged Ceff to follow, which took little encouragement. His nose was in the air, searching for the mare’s scent.

Fiona shoved his shoulder. “Did you ask me to take care of Annabel so she’d take care of me?”

He shrugged, and she shoved him again.

“I don’t know whether to be angry that you insist on sheltering me or pleased that you trust me enough to befriend a young lady who has turned your head.”

Jasper glanced at the woman he loved like a sister. She didn’t know everything about his life, and she didn’t need to. If she wanted to think he was besotted with Annabel Pearce, so be it. It would make things easier.

“Tell me everything she said.”

Chapter Five

“No.” Elizabeth spun from the mirror for Ruth, the maid, to unlace yet another gown. “I need something that will catch the marquess’s attention, since I was shunted to the garden this morning.”

Annabel took the moment to survey her own reflection, frowning at the gray dinner dress. She’d chosen a fabric with a shadowy pattern to make it seem less institutional and governess-like, but everything seemed drab after spending the morning on horseback in her riding habit—racing, no less.

She’d won that race and Fiona Allen’s friendship—and the attention of the man every woman wanted. Annabel could still feel his arm around her waist and see his wild smile as they’d raced side by side.

She paid for her fun all afternoon, whispered about by the young ladies and ostracized by their chaperones. Even the guests who hadn’t been there were punishing her, especially Elizabeth. No amount of praise for her painting, and it had been sincere, had stirred her from her sulk.

“You should have known there would be a picnic.” Elizabeth twisted one of her curls into place, sparking Annabel’s memories of when her hair had been in something other than braids and pins that scraped her scalp.

“As I have told you, the picnic and the race were both surprises.” Annabel sighed. “And though you would have enjoyed the picnic and the scenery, you would not have enjoyed the ride, nor the race.”