Page 42 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
Her agreement made him relax. He advised her on the next wager and hoped he was right. This would be a much closer race. The cheering grew to a rousing crescendo as the phaetons careened, side by side, around the final corner. Unfortunately, his pick crossed the finish just behind the other racer.
Andrew grimaced at Miss Parnell, who was frowning. “I’m not always right,” he said quietly so only she could hear. They stood at the edge of the group.
She gave him a sardonic look. “How refreshing to hear a gentleman say so.”
Andrew coughed. Charles had walked toward them as she spoke, and she hadn’t been using her disguised voice. Plus, her comment wasn’t one that Smitty would’ve uttered. Charles, however, didn’t appear as though he’d heard.
He greeted them with a jovial smile. “Dartford and Smitty. Together again, I see. Smitty seems to be our newest member.” He looked at Miss Parnell. “Of our group.”
Andrew laughed. “We have members? I wasn’t aware.”
Charles waved his hand. “You know what I mean. Say, why aren’t you racing today? I can’t remember the last time you didn’t.”
“Just taking a respite.”
Charles chuckled. “Going to give others a chance, eh? Or maybe no one wants to race you since they always lose.”
“I’d race him.” A tall, lanky fellow strode toward them. He was young—near Miss Parnell’s age—but with a robust confidence and a bold swagger. Yet at the same time, Andrew wouldn’t call him arrogant.
Andrew wasn’t a braggart, and if he said he could do something, he did it. And usually with aplomb. “I’ll take you up on that sometime, Greene.”
Greene nodded and turned his attention to Miss Parnell. “Robert Greene.”
She shook his hand, demonstrating the same strength and assurance she had earlier. “Davis Smith.”
“We call him Smitty,” Charles interjected. He looked at Andrew with beseeching eyes. “Come on, Dart. Race Greene.”
Greene arched a brow in question, then gave a shrug. “I’m up for it.”
Miss Parnell cleared her throat. “You aren’t scheduled to race someone else today?”
“I am not. But I always bring my vehicle, just in case.” He indicated his elegant phaeton and grinned.
Andrew eyed the vehicle with envy. It was new and reminded him of the model he was having made. The carriage on both was a bit smaller than typical and the wheels taller. He was excited to see it finished. “When my new phaeton is ready, we’ll race.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Greene said. He turned to Miss Parnell. “Do you race?”
“I don’t.” She eyed Greene’s phaeton. “But I should like to.”
“Perhaps you should race me, then. You could borrow Dart’s vehicle.”
Andrew didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I don’t think he’s ready for that, are you, Smitty?”
She made a grimace—a very manly one—and shook her head. “Unfortunately not, but I think you should have a go.” She looked pointedly at Andrew.
Hell.She wasn’t supposed to say that. He’d been clear about his intention to stay with her today.
Charles elbowed him in the arm. “I think it’s unanimous. Go on.”
To refuse now would create a scene, and he didn’t want that. He began to question his idea to bring Miss Parnell along. Still, he had to admit it was better than a gaming hell. He could, at least, trust these gentlemen not to erupt into fisticuffs. At least not at this time of the morning. Late at night, after they’d all been drinking? That was another situation altogether.
“All right, then.” He looked at Greene. “Will you alert Nevins?”
“Certainly.” Greene rubbed his hands together as he ambled off.
Miss Parnell looked at him expectantly. “I need to place my next wager.”
She started toward Nevins, and he rushed to catch up. He glanced around to make sure they were out of anyone’s earshot. Still, he kept his voice low. “Why did you do that?”
