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He waggled a finger, his eyes alight with merriment. “If you’re thinking of entering that great beast of yours, you’d be better served to save the entry fee—and your dignity. I mean no slight toward Primero, but the horses at Ascot are of an entirely different class.”
“He would leave them in the dust.”
“He would be covered in their dust,” he chortled. “Your pride in him is admirable, if a bit misplaced. But when I take you to Ascot, you’ll see what I mean. Our Silvertail is already entered for the Hunt Cup. He’ll easily take the prize. Fastest horse I’ve ever seen.”
“You’ve yet to see Primero run, my lord. Despite his size, he’s absolute lightning once he gets up to speed, and his endurance is far beyond that of any puny Arabian. I’ll wager he can run your Silvertail to the ground.”
“He wouldn’t get up to speed before the race was finished,” he laughed. “And he would certainly never catch Silvertail.”
So condescending was his tone that Victoria’s pulse sped up with genuine ire. “Why don’t we have a little pre-Ascot race, you and I, and just see for ourselves? Or better yet, why don’t I just enter Primero into the Ascot Hunt and prove it?”
“Enter an Andalusian?” His eyes boggled. “Are you mad? You’d be the laughingstock of the entire country when the word got out!”
Victoria’s heart pounded with indignation. “I shall enter him and show you and the rest of the world the very definition of speed!”
“Have you a rider?” he cut in lightly.
“I shall ride him myself.”
He sucked in a breath between his teeth and shook his head sadly. “Only male riders are allowed at the Ascot, I’m afraid.”
“They shall have to make an exception, shan’t they?”
“Lady Victoria, please. I’ve no wish to see you humiliated. Do not, I beg you, seek to prove me wrong by sacrificing yourself to ridicule. Even if they allowed it, and they won’t, a sidesaddle would unbalance the horse, and he would be at an extreme disadvantage.”
“I wouldn’t be riding sidesaddle,” she snapped. It was hard to remember that he was only playing along.
“You would ride astride?”
His look of horror was quite genuine, and it made her want to laugh. Julius hadn’t looked at her that way at all. “Does that concern you, my lord?” she asked sweetly. “Who was it said ‘love knows neither dignity nor propriety’? He would bear no other rider, in any case,” she continued. “But I promise you that if I am on his back, he will win.”
“Please—it would be unfair to make him try, Victoria,” he placated. “He’d never be able to match the pace of those lighter horses, and to force him to fail would be utterly demoralizing. A loss like that could crush his spirit. It’s moot point, anyway, as women are not allowed to ride the race,” he reiterated.
She arched a brow. “There is always a first time for everything, my lord. I imagine Her Majesty might object to being told what a woman is allowed to do. She would no doubt be delighted to see a member of her sex take the prize.”
“If anyone can find a way to bend the rules, it’ll certainly be you,” Withy said soothingly. “But I beg you not to try it just to prove me wrong. Please know that I in no way meant to impugn Primero, for he truly is a fine beast.”
“Well, I suppose you cannot be blamed for your lack of faith, as you’ve yet to see him run. Which reminds me, we are hosting a hunt at the end of this month. Perhaps at some point during the festivities you and I shall have an opportunity to pit our horses against one another. I should like a chance to prove the veracity of my claims.”
“An equestrienne and a sporting spirit!” he said with a laugh. “I suppose if you wish a private race, I shall be happy to oblige. I’m an excellent rider, myself.”
“And what stakes would you set, my lord?” She glanced meaningfully to her left, to where Amelia sat.
Lounging like a lazy cat, he grinned, stretching his legs out across the space between them. “Perhaps it might be better to determine that at a later time, my lady. After I’ve had a while to think long and hard about it.”
His tone was perfectly insinuating, and she smiled as her sister vigorously cleared her throat in protest.
“You know, perhaps a friendly race is in order,” Julius offered up cheerily, breaking the tension. “I should myself like to see how Primero compares to my Sir Handel.”
“Perhaps a cross-country, then?” suggested Victoria. “Our estate encompasses a variety of terrains. I could arrange a challenging course quite easily.”
“And if I win, you’ll grant me exclusive stud rights for Primero?”
“Exclusivity?” she replied, clearly taken aback. “That’s rather high stakes for a ‘friendly race,’ don’t you think?”
“Is it?” He slid his gaze over to Withington, surprised to feel a prickle of jealousy. The man didn’t have to be quite so convincing with his innuendos.
“Well, I suppose it’s fair enough,” she acceded. “Provided all prizes are of equal value.”
