Page 1 of The Duke of Distraction
Chapter 1
London, May, 1818
“Is that another new hat, Miss Colton?”
Sarah brought her hand to the side of her poke bonnet trimmed in Pomona green and persimmon-striped ivory ribbon and bright yellow flowers with persimmon-colored centers.“Yes.”
Mrs.Wetherell clucked her tongue.“It’s absolutely stunning.Wherever did you buy it?I must have something just like it.”
“Well, notjustlike it, I hope.”Sarah smiled demurely, and her mother’s friend laughed gaily.
“Of course not just like it,” Mrs.Wetherell said.“But that striped ribbon is gorgeous.It pulls the green from your gown so beautifully.”
Sarah’s walking dress was Pomona green with an ivory sash.The striped ribbon and yellow flowers were a bold choice according to her mother, but Sarah thought they worked together perfectly.
“Thank you,” Sarah said, inwardly beaming.
Lavinia, the Marchioness of Northam and Sarah’s dearest friend, approached with a wide smile.“Why, Sarah, you look particularly fetching today.”She nodded toward Mrs.Wetherell.“Good afternoon.I hope you don’t mind if I steal Miss Colton away?”
Mrs.Wetherell dipped a brief, shallow curtsey.“Not at all, my lady.”
Sarah looped her arm through Lavinia’s and walked her away from the group of ladies that had gathered to watch the afternoon’s races.“Thank you for rescuing me.I need to place my wagers.”
Lavinia narrowed her eyes slightly as she cast a sidelong look at Sarah.“How much money have you made on these races?”It was the third week of a tournament, with two more weeks after this one.
Sarah shrugged as she steered them toward the table where Mr.Kinsley was collecting and recording wagers for the five races taking place that day: two for the women and three for the men.“I’m not getting rich, if that’s what you’re wondering.”She was, however, accumulating an adequate purse and might just achieve her goal today.If she was lucky.
“I presume you’ll be wagering on both Lucy and Dartford,” Lavinia said.
“Of course.”Their friend Lucy, the Countess of Dartford, was racing in one of the women’s heats, while her husband was racing in the men’s.“I will also place money on Lady Exeby and Mr.Wakeham.”
“Indeed?”Lavinia sounded surprised.“Mr.Wakeham over Lord Ponsford?”
“It’s a bit of a gamble, but that’s the point of it.”If Wakeham won, it would surely fatten Sarah’s purse to precisely where she needed it to be.
“I’m surprised you haven’t taken to gambling with Lucy.”Lavinia waved her hand.“Never mind.Your parents would be horrified.”
Livid was perhaps a better description.They’d notice her wagering at social events, but not on these races.Her father rarely came to the park, and her mother stayed far away from the races, which were for the younger set anyway.
“The only reason Mother allows me to attend these is because there are bachelors.”Now on her fourth Season, Sarah felt an intense pressure to marry.From her parents.From herself, she felt only an intense pressure to be happy, and marriage alone wasn’t enough.Now, marriage to a man sheloved…
But she wasn’t holding out for that.She was tired of holding out for anything.Of waiting for something.Or someone.She was ready to make her own future.
“You didn’t say who you planned to place your wager for in St.Ives’s race,” Lavinia said, arching an auburn brow.
The Earl of St.Ives had seemed to be on the verge of courting their friend Fanny, but then she’d left town abruptly, retiring to the country with her sister who was expecting her second child.
“St.Ives is by far the better racer,” Sarah said.
Lavinia scowled.“But we’re annoyed with him because it seems he might have driven Fanny away.”
They’d discussed it, and that was their estimation.They’d written to Fanny, asking about her relationship with him, but had yet to receive a response.
Sarah exhaled.“Even so, I will bet on him.”
Lavinia looked at her shrewdly as they arrived at the wagering table.“You are definitely trying to make money.”
Letting out a nervous laugh, Sarah withdrew her arm from Lavinia’s when the handsome Mr.Kinsley, who was also the Earl of St.Ives’s secretary, took her wagers.
