Page 45 of Duke of Iron
May finished her tea, straightened her shoulders, and made for the library.
If she could not manage happiness, she could at least manage a proper distraction.
Logan bent low over the stallion’s neck, the rush of wind making his eyes water and his coat snap hard against his shoulders. The fields at the edge of London blurred around him, a stretch of green and gold and the distant haze of the city, but the only thing that mattered was the finish line and the man closing in from his right.
Calenham had always been quick, but today Logan was quicker. He dug in with his knees and urged the beast on, feeling thelather break beneath the saddle. There—up ahead—a split-rail fence, the agreed endpoint, and then beyond it, only the endless horizon.
He could have ridden all day, and he might have, if Calenham hadn’t shouted over the thunder of hooves, “Is the Iron Duke already running from his wife?”
Logan gave no reply. He threw his weight forward, the stallion leaping in a final burst, and the fence shot beneath them in a single, graceful arc. He pulled up hard on the other side, his jaw clenched, while Calenham’s horse cleared the fence a breath later.
“Well, damn,” Calenham said, breathless as he reined in. “You’ll kill us both one of these days.” He grinned, his face flushed with exertion and something like glee. “What was that about, old man? There were children in the road last time we raced, and I’m fairly certain you trampled them for sport.”
Logan wiped the sweat from his brow and looked away. “You could have refused the challenge.”
“And lose a chance to see you outride the Devil? Never.” Calenham’s eyes narrowed. “But let’s not pretend you’re here for sport. You’ve been racing death every morning since your wedding.”
Logan kept his eyes on the horizon. “You read too much into everything.”
“Do I?” Calenham nudged his horse closer, voice pitched low. “You, married. Thetonis rabid with speculation. Is it true she tricked you at the altar, or is there another child on the way?”
Logan’s hands tightened on the reins. “You know me better than that.”
“Do I?” Calenham repeated. He sounded amused, but beneath it, Logan heard the genuine question. “Because the man I knew swore he’d never take a wife, much less the first shy debutante thrown into his path.”
“She’s not shy,” Logan said. “Not exactly.”
Calenham’s brow shot up. “That almost sounded like praise.” He steered his horse to stand beside Logan’s. “All right. If you’re not here for the sport, or the company, what are you running from?”
Logan considered lying. He’d done it a thousand times, but the words would not come. Instead, he let silence sit between them, the sound of wind and distant church bells filling the space.
At last, he said, “Nothing worth your curiosity.”
Calenham shrugged. “I’ve heard that before. It usually means ‘everything worth my curiosity.’” He squinted at Logan. “Is she so pretty you find yourself at risk of falling to your knees?”
Logan snorted, but said nothing.
Calenham barked a laugh. “I am correct! Youarerunning.”
“I am not,” Logan said, his voice sharper than he intended. “She’s… she is…” He broke off, annoyed that he had no words.
Calenham regarded him with a look bordering on respect. “Careful, man. You almost sound as though you are falling in love.”
Logan scowled. “She is not the point.”
“Isn’t she?” Calenham grinned. “I think she is the point. That’s what’s making you ride like your own father’s ghost is on your heels.”
Logan flinched. The memory of his father—the real one, not the shadow that haunted him—was a thing he had long ago banished to the deepest cellar of his mind. To have Calenham bring it up, even as a jest, felt like a punch.
He reined his horse around, refusing to let his expression betray anything. “I suppose if you don’t like being beaten, you can always decline the next invitation.”
Calenham grinned. “You’ll have to try harder to scare me off.” He fell into pace beside Logan as they started back toward the city. “You know, you could do worse. There are men who spend their whole lives running from women. At least you’re only running fromone.”
Logan didn’t answer.
They rode in companionable quiet until they reached the edge of the city, where the narrow lane split off toward Irondale House. Calenham pulled up, a look of mock seriousness on his face. “You should go home, Logan. Give her a day or two of the legendary Blackmore charm.”
Logan shook his head. “She doesn’t need charm. She needs distance.”
