Page 90 of A Single Obsession

Eliza held her breath, fearing discovery, as Beau came right up to Romeo, but she need not have worried. He didn’t so much as look at her. His eyes were only for his colt. A lump formed in Eliza’s throat as she watched how tenderly he buried his face in Romeo’s mane and patted his neck.

Perhaps she should have been a horse. Then he would have greeted her with that much affection.

At last, he raised his head and nodded at Eliza. She mumbled something incoherent and returned his nod, keeping her head down.

Fortunately, Beau did not seem to see anything amiss.

“I can’t thank you enough for stepping in like this, Robson. Now, about the race. Your most serious rival in the field is Majesty,” he said, pointing at a black horse a short distance away. “He belongs to Mr Cunningham, and that’s the one you must beat above all others. He won at Newmarket and is favourite here. Follow him off the start and then, if Romeo has the speed, go for it down the last straight.”

Eliza gulped rather heavily and gave a restrained nod to show she had understood.

“At least if Romeo runs, he has a chance.”

She heard the doubt in his voice and realised he didn’t hold out much hope of her riding to victory. It made her even more determined to succeed. Beau’s uncertainty caused her own insecurities to vanish. She had to triumph for him.

Finch looked concerned that Beau was focusing too much attention on her and sought to distract him. “Fortunate thing, Miss Merry finding him like that, my lord.”

At the mention of her name, his eyes clouded over, and he seemed to lose concentration.

Eliza felt a flicker of hope in her heart. Perhaps he cared for her. Just a little.

Finch coughed. “Isn’t it time for the weigh-in, my lord?”

“Yes, of course,” Beau said, coming out of his abstraction. He patted Romeo’s neck. “Off you go. Good luck.”

At last, he withdrew from the race enclosure and Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. She gazed after him, but looked away abruptly, her heart thumping in her chest, when she saw him join Anthony. Had Beau told him the name of his jockey? Would Ant stop her from racing?

But he didn’t approach her, and when she dared to peek, a few moments later, the two friends had disappeared.

Finch guided her through the pre-race procedures, and when they were complete, he led her to the start. All around her, jockeys were brandishing their whips and looking more like men going into battle than into a race, their horses snorting with excitement.

Terror wrenched her gut as the start of the race drew nearer. What was she doing? She was seated on a horse, dressed in men’s clothes, in a coarse masculine atmosphere.

What if her sex was discovered? What if she was jostled and unseated and fell to the ground? Would she be trampled on?

She prayed with all her might that God would keep her safe, though she had no right to ask. She’d put herself in this position, overruling her groom’s advice to act in a way that would horrify her family.

Eliza grasped the whip that Finch held up to her, forcing her hand not to shake, and took her place.

She bent down low over her horse’s neck and whispered to her mount.

“Run like the wind, Romeo. For Beau.”

Chapter 40

Beau and Anthony took their places. They had secured a spot on the incline above the circuit, giving them the best possible view of the course and, most importantly, the finish line.

“Do you think he’s got a chance?” Ant asked.

Beau shrugged his shoulders. “A novice jockey on a strange, albeit fast, horse who has never raced before? Yes, there’s a chance—but don’t get your hopes up. It’s only a slim possibility. There are too many unknowns.”

He thrust his hands in his pockets and locked his gaze on the track. Although he’d warned Ant not to expect Romeo to win, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping. The next three minutes could be the most important of his life.

When the signal was given, the two men fell silent. The race had begun.

Majesty was on form. The black had already pulled away from the rest of the field by the time he reached the first turn. Another horse was, maybe, a length behind. Could it be…?

Beau grabbed Ant’s arm in his excitement as the horses cleared the next bend. Cunningham’s black was in the lead, but his colt was keeping up.