Page 18 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Charles nodded. “I appreciate you allowing me to practice with them.”
They started out slowly, with Charles steadily increasing their speed. His skill had improved, and Andrew began to think they could perhaps finally recommend him. The breeze whipped over them, bringing that sense of freedom and abandon that Andrew loved. The first turn approached.
“Lean into the curve,” Andrew said. “Keep your grip firm.”
Charles drove faster, and Andrew’s assessment faltered. “Careful,” he warned.
But Charles didn’t slow, and when they reached the turn, the barouche tilted.
Andrew grabbed the side of the vehicle and prayed it wouldn’t overturn. With his other hand, he reached out and grabbed at the reins. “Charles!”
Charles dipped to the side but didn’t relinquish the reins. Andrew lurched forward and snatched them from his friend, whose grip was hard and fast.
“Charles, the horses!” Andrew called.
Charles let go at last, then tumbled from the side of the barouche.
“Bloody hell!” Beaumont cried.
Andrew steered the horses to slow and finally stop. “I need to check the team,” he said, climbing down. “You see about Charles.”
Thursby jumped down. “He looks to be standing up.” He and Beaumont hurried to Charles, while Andrew spoke softly to his horses. They were a magnificent team and seemed none the worse for Charles’s carelessness.
The trio returned to the barouche before Andrew could make his way to them.
Charles’s coat was torn, and there was a hole in his breeches. His head hung at a sheepish angle, and his face was bright red, probably as much from embarrassment as exertion. “My apologies, Dart. I thought I had it.”
“You did well until the turn.”
“I’m afraid I became cocky.” He winced. “Are the horses all right?”
Andrew buried his annoyance since there was no lasting harm done. “They’re fine. I’m sorry to say you’re going to need a little more practice. You need to work on your turning technique before you add in the speed.”
Charles nodded. “I will. Thank you.”
Andrew glanced down at Charles’s rumpled form. “You all right?”
“I am. Knee’s a bit beaten up, I think.” He gestured to the hole above his boot, where blood trickled over the fabric of his breeches.
Andrew gave one of the horses a final pat. “Let’s get back to town, then. I’ll drive,” he said wryly, provoking laughter from Thursby and Beaumont and even a smile from Charles.
Once they were on their way, Thursby turned his head toward Andrew. “I’ll be at Lady Colne’s this evening. It will be a pleasure to see you there. Perhaps you’ll join me at hazard.”
Mention of gaming brought Miss Parnell to mind once more. But then it seemed she was never terribly far away. This was a new sensation, this interest in a woman, but then he enjoyed her company as much as any of his acquaintances’. She was a welcome change to his routine, another adventure he could claim.
Going back to Thursby’s invitation, if Miss Parnell wasn’t there, gambling would be his only interest. “I may just do that.”
If she were there, however, would he dance with her or merely satisfy his desperate curiosity?
Thursby looked at him askance. “If you change your mind about venturing onto the Marriage Mart, there’s quite a good crop this year. Holborn’s daughter is lovely but seems a bit fast.”
This aroused laughter from everyone.
Beaumont leaned forward from the back. “Said a reformed rake for whom ‘fast’ was merely his behavior before sundown.”
“Yes, well, reformation happens to all of us at some point, if we’re lucky,” Thursby said tersely. “As I was saying, there are young ladies that may be worth your time to know. Miss Emmaline Forth-Hodges is bound to make an excellent match, or so my wife says.”
“Sutton’s interested in her,” Charles said.
