Page 27 of Duke of Iron
“A shilling. I intend to live scandalously.”
The trumpet sounded, and the race began with a thunder of hooves, the ground trembling with their charge. May’s entire body leaned forward, her gloved hands gripping the rail, eyes fixed on the track with single-minded focus.
Logan, however, found himself watching her.
She clutched her reticule, breath caught in her throat as she muttered under it, “Come on, Gray Glory, prove them all wrong.”
Gray Glory?
Her cheeks flushed with excitement, her lips parted, and her eyes—those ridiculous spectacles catching the light—sparkled with undiluted joy. Her entire being seemed to radiate life, unfiltered and incandescent. He could not recall the last time someone around him had looked so thoroughly alive.
The horses rounded the final bend. Predictably, Gray Glory trailed behind by several lengths.
“Tragic,” May sighed.
“Predictable.”
“Still. There is something noble in his determination.”
“There is something mad in your optimism.”
She elbowed him lightly. “You are impossible.”
“You are delusional.”
They both laughed, a warm, spontaneous sound that made several onlookers glance their way. Logan handed her a glass of lemonade from the tray nearby.
She accepted it with an exaggerated curtsy, dipping so low he feared she might topple. “Your Grace is most generous.”
“And you are most dramatic. But not nervous,” he observed.
“Why should I be?”
Because every eye is upon us. Because they want a scandal and would settle for a misstep.
But she only sipped her lemonade and looked at him over the rim of her glass. “I am with a duke. What could possibly go wrong?”
He leaned against the railing, raising his own glass. “You would be astonished.”
The trumpet blew again for the second race. May leaned in, whispering with mock gravity, “That one with the white blaze. He is clearly the villain.”
Logan raised a brow. “And yet you are cheering for him?”
“He is misunderstood.”
“You have a concerning habit of siding with the least likely candidates.”
She smiled, eyes dancing behind the wire rims. “I have always had excellent instincts.”
God help me,Logan thought, watching her adjust her spectacles and lean forward once more, eyes filled with anticipation. For the first time in weeks, the knot between his shoulders eased.
And as she laughed at the white-blazed horse’s hopeless dash toward second-to-last, he found himself thinking,Let the ton gossip. I rather like being seen with her.
During the moment between races, he led May away from their seats to stretch their legs. Vendors passed trays of pickled eggs, ginger biscuits, and tankards of ale.
Logan noticed her eyeing a tray of drinks with keen interest, even craning her neck for a better view. He felt a corner of his mouth tilt upward as he studied her.
“You cannot possibly be thirsty enough to want that,” he said, watching her gaze settle on a mug of ale.
