Recklessly Yours by Allison Chase

family’s involvement in horseracing.” Oh dear, had she gone too far with such a bald-faced lie? Probably, but he would never contradict her, not openly. “In fact, you are a member of the Jockey Club, are you not? Were you inspecting the track?”
    â€œI was.” That earlier shadow returned to veil his expression. “Unfortunately there have been a couple of small setbacks in the preparations.” A muscle in his cheek bounced. “I can only hope the Meeting will not be delayed.”
    â€œOh, no, and here I have added to those setbacks by ruining the lovely landscaping along the approach.” She sighed with regret.
    â€œHardly your fault, Miss Sutherland.” And yet his eyes narrowed as if he were taking her measure. She decided it wouldn’t do to linger here any longer, with him scrutinizing her beneath the glaring sun.
    But neither would it do to lose a heaven-sent opportunity. She glanced over his shoulder at the stands. “As long as I am this close, may I venture a peek?”
    That seemed to rouse him from his wariness. “Where are my manners? Of course you may.” He offered his hand and helped her up onto the carriage seat.
    As he turned the team in a wide arc, Holly laughed as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “How splendid, a private tour.”
    â€œYou do realize,” he said over the grind of the carriage wheels, “that the races don’t begin for another two weeks?” Did she hear another slight note of accusation? Before she could reply, his eyebrows gathered tightly. “Why providential?”
    She blinked, well aware that for a redhead, her eyelashes were thick and dark and, when lowered, cast coy shadows over her cheeks. “Your nearly trouncing me to death? My sisters and I aren’t here only for the races. We wish to acquire a racehorse of our own. I thought perhaps you could assist us.”
    He drew back a little against the seat, his frown deepening. “ You wish to purchase a racehorse?”
    â€œCertainly. Is there a reason why not?”
    â€œWomen don’t typically own racehorses, Miss Sutherland. The Jockey Club—”
    â€œYes, I know.” She held her bonnet against the breeze. “The Jockey Club has rules against women entering horses in the races. Then Simon will enter our horse. Surely that is allowed?”
    â€œSpeaking of Simon, does he know you are here?”
    â€œOf course Simon knows.” She released a chuckle to hide how much the question annoyed her. Was she a child that she needed a man’s permission before leaving home? “Why, Lord Drayton, you sound as if my sisters and I were acting on the sly.”
    She paused to gauge his reaction to that, but he gave no hint to his thoughts. He faced straight ahead, his profile squarely set as he maneuvered the horses through the narrow gap between the stands. “I only meant that the purchase of a Thoroughbred entails a good deal of practical experience and knowledge. There is much to consider.”
    â€œIndeed, Lord Drayton. But I happen to know a fair amount about horses in general, and surely you’ll be good enough to lend us the benefit of your expertise when it comes to Thoroughbreds in particular.”
    â€œI should be honored, Miss Sutherland.”
    He didn’t sound honored. He sounded . . . wary again.
    â€œFor instance,” she went on brightly, “which would you recommend: a seasoned racer or a colt?”
    She put light emphasis on that last word just to see if he would react, but if she had expected him to flinch or gasp or incriminate himself in any way, he disappointed her with his calm reply. “There are benefits to both. Generally, the sooner you wish to enter your horse in the races, the more experienced you’ll want him to be when you make your purchase.”
    The phaeton lurched where gravel gave way to lawn. The wheels hissed through the grass, and the shadows