Page 92 of A Single Obsession

Too similar.

Beau’s heart lurched as he came to a shocking realisation. Eliza was his jockey.

A myriad of emotions flooded his being as he processed his thoughts. Wonder, gratitude, hope, anger, but overcoming them all—horror.

What had Finch been playing at by allowing her to ride? It was only a stupid wager—a wager he shouldn’t have accepted. What if her sex had been discovered? She would have been ruined. What if she had fallen? She could have been killed—and he would never have forgiven himself.

Beau felt his blood run cold as the colour drained from his face. He must have looked ghastly, because Eliza recoiled in her saddle, making Romeo shift uneasily beneath her. The movement broke the connection and, all at once, he came to his senses and plunged headlong into action.

“Make way!” he cried, grabbing the colt’s reins. “Champion coming through!”

The crowds responded to the voice of authority and parted to allow them to pass.

Once they were clear of the masses, he returned control of the horse to Finch, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

He did not trust himself to be there when Eliza dismounted. He feared he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself from scooping his darling girl into his arms, while she was still dressed as a man, causing a scandal they would all struggle to live down.

“Get out of here. Now.”

He ground his teeth as he turned away from Eliza and walked off.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Finch needed no further encouragement. They left the racecourse without hindrance and were soon back at the White Hart. Eliza dismounted in a daze, hardly knowing what she was doing.

The entire hostelry stood empty, as the racegoers had not yet returned. Her groom tethered the horses in silence, and they made their way toward the inn door.

He motioned to her to wait whilst he entered, and as he did, he almost bumped into the barmaid, who seemed to be the only member of staff around. As he was a personable man, Finch had no difficulty engaging her in conversation, leaving Eliza free to slip inside and up the stairs.

The small chamber was as she had left it. She pushed the door closed behind her and leaned against it. If only it was as easy to shut out the expression on Beau’s face.

What had caused that dreadful look? She would never forget it for as long as she lived.

He had recognised her—that was certain—and it had shocked him. That much she’d seen in his eyes. But the pallor of his skin, the scrunched-up eyebrows and the firm set of his mouth? Could shock alone explain those?

Was he angry with her? Ashamed of her reckless behaviour?

She had believed he was the one man who wouldn’t care about propriety. The one man with whom she could be herself.

But maybe Georgie was right. Not even Beau wanted a wife who embarrassed him, and this time she had gone too far. That would explain his sending her away in disgust.

She had always intended to break off their engagement if she was victorious, but she had naively hoped that when he came to pick a bride in his own timing, he would select her.

And her heart broke all over again as she recognised the cost of what she had done.

She had won the race, but she had lost Beau.

A knock heralded Finch’s arrival. He entered the room and sank to his knees to take off her boots, which she couldn’t remove by herself. The tight expression on his face showed he wasn’t comfortable being in a bedchamber with her with no one else around, but it was necessary for their plan. After what she’d done today, Eliza wasn’t sure the proprieties mattered any more.

With a brief nod, her groom left, and she was alone again.

Tears welled up in her eyes and a few drops fell down her cheeks. She longed to indulge her misery, but she had a part to play if she was to have a shred of reputation remaining after this foolish adventure.

She ripped off the men’s garments in disgust and stuffed them in her saddlebag. If there had been a fire lit in the grate, she would have burned them. With equal loathing, she tore the wig from her head and sent it to join her clothes before slipping between the bedcovers and ringing the bell.

The landlady came bustling in a few minutes later. She looked at Eliza and screwed up her face in concern. “Why, I don’t think your headache can have gone one bit. You look as white as a sheet. Are you sure you won’t rest a while longer?”

“No, thank you. I’ve stayed long enough already, and I must go before I’m missed.”