LITMIR.BIZ

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with anger. “I’m your fiancée! You can’t leave me here!”

      Dalton’s fiancée? Surprise and disappointment rushed over Alicia. For an engaged man to leave his partner alone while he charged off with another woman was the deepest insult—grave enough to endanger the engagement.

      But what did she care? Dalton’s Arabian was almost beside her mare. She leaned forward, urging Mischief with encouragement. Moments later, the mare easily took the lead.

      Within seconds, Dalton’s powerful beast galloped beside her again, but the light-footed Mischief had a head to be first. Spirit was everything, Alicia knew. Large, powerful horses might set a burst of endurance at the start, but like humans, a winning spirit was the key to heroic accomplishments.

      Stately trees and low thickets rushed past in a green blur as they raced, their horses neck and neck. Surprised to hear her own peal of laughter amid the thundering hooves, she glanced a peek at Dalton.

      His jet riding jacket fit his broad shoulders to perfection. Black, shiny leather boots molded to his muscled legs like a second skin. His rich baritone laughter rang through her thoughts. She couldn’t remember when she felt so exhilarated.

      The stable’s long stone enclosure rose in the distance. Dalton’s horse inched alongside of Mischief, preparing to take the lead.

      Alicia longed to win; she had to win if she was going to beat down the feeling that she was an outcast. She would win!

      As they neared the west side of the stables, Dalton leaned over the saddle, easing into the lead. Just then, Alicia spotted the small cottage sitting to the left of the livery stable. If she were to veer to the right of the bungalow, then go behind the stables along the shorter path to the paddock entrance, she might beat Dalton, after all.

      When they were within a hundred yards of the stable, Alicia urged her mount to the left. When Dalton glanced up to see where she was going, it was too late for him to follow. Alicia raced Mischief toward the bungalow. Passing the stable, she brought her mount along the side of the paddock.

      Several grooms rushed toward her and helped her dismount. Her heart pounded in sweet satisfaction. A few seconds later, Dalton arrived on his stallion, and dismounted a few feet from her.

      His mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “You win, Lady Alicia.”

      “And a fair win it was,” she returned, waiting for his chiding to follow. Instead, he said nothing as he tossed the reins to a waiting groom.

      Dalton would have won if she hadn’t veered from the path, and his gallantry wasn’t making her winning as satisfying as she’d hoped. It was almost as if he didn’t care who won.

      “Too bad we didn’t place a wager,” he offered finally, his heated gaze fixed on her. “I might have tried harder.”

      “Of course! How could I have forgotten that unless one bets, it’s not worth doing?” She glared at him. “I should be returning to Bashshar.”

      “Dressed in such lovely finery?”

      For the moment, she’d forgotten about her riding habit. A heat rose to her cheeks, and she wished he would leave. If only he had mentioned that he was engaged earlier.

      But why should he? Dalton considered her nothing more than a stable hand, a nursemaid for his horse. Oh, why had she let Olivia talk her into leaving the stable and pretending to be someone she could never be?

      Anger, frustration and something she didn’t recognize flamed within her. She was a lady, even if she had been snubbed by the ton. “Yes, I’ll change into something more suitable. If you’ll excuse me—”

      Dalton grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her to face him. “I don’t know what possessed Elizabeth to act the way she did. Elizabeth and I aren’t engaged.”

      “It’s none of my concern.” She brushed his hands from her shoulders.

      “There’s nothing between us, Alicia. I have no arrangement with Elizabeth. We’re both free to do what we want.”

      “I didn’t ask you for an explanation.” Alicia stepped back, but he moved with her.

      “We’re not engaged.” He took her hand.

      She felt his warmth, so close. Much too close. She felt suddenly dizzy. “Please, let me go.”

      “It’s important that you believe me.”

      “Oh, I see. Elizabeth is the liar and you’re telling me the truth. Is that it?” The paddock fencing seemed to spin around her. She felt warm and light-headed when he looked at her in such an intimate way.

      “I don’t want you to think worse of me than you already do.”

      “I suggest you have this conversation with your lady love, not with me.” Alicia tried to shake free of his hand, but he held her fast.

      “Alicia, please—”

      “Lady Alicia, if you please.” They faced each other, the awkward silence adding to the void between them. Finally, he released her. She gathered her skirts and rushed from the paddock.

      Her hands were still trembling when she dashed inside the cottage and closed the door. She leaned against the smooth wood, her heart pounding. She squeezed her eyes shut. The handsome face of Dalton Warfield, the duke of Wexton, flooded her mind. His passionate eyes burned into her soul.

      Dalton had looked so earnest, so trusting. Elizabeth and I aren’t engaged.

      Why should she care if Dalton was telling the truth? She opened her eyes to her own painful truth. She did care. God help her, but she wanted to believe him.

       Chapter Four

      Dalton gripped the reins of his mount with practiced control as he rode along the bridle path. Despite his outward appearance, he still felt shocked at Elizabeth for her behavior to Alicia. The sooner he found Elizabeth and settled the matter, once and for all, the sooner he could assure Alicia that she wouldn’t have to put up with such tactless conduct again.

      Elizabeth! What had provoked her to blurt out that she was his fiancée? In his mind, he could still see Alicia’s surprise, then accusing look before she schooled her features behind an emotionless mask. He winced inwardly. No doubt she learned to mask the pain in her life since her fall from grace.

      It was bad enough that Dalton’s bargain with Alicia had thrust her amid the ton, but the poor woman wasn’t used to Elizabeth’s jealousy. No telling what lengths she was willing to go to make Alicia’s life hell. Elizabeth’s conduct toward Alicia was cruel, and he wouldn’t permit such behavior at his estate.

      Through the shrubbery up ahead, Dalton saw a flash of blue, then Elizabeth rode into view. His jaw clenched as he reined back and waited for her.

      “I expect you came looking for me,” she said when she rode alongside him. Her voice held none of the anger that flashed from her eyes. When he said nothing to deny it, she raised her chin in haughty censure.

      “Dalton, I want an apology for your outrageous behavior this morning.”

      It took all of his control not to speak his mind. Instead, he remained silent, waiting for her to finish. She didn’t disappoint him.

      “Why is that scandalous woman here? Surely you must know that her kind aren’t fit to be around respectable people.”

      “Respectable people don’t lie about being engaged when they’re not, Elizabeth. There’ll be an apology, but it will be you who’ll apologize to Lady Alicia.”

      Her eyebrows raised. “Why…she’s your mistress!” She spit the accusation. Her horse skittered uneasily.

      “Alicia is not my mistress. Although she is at Havencrest at my request.”

      Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “I usually find your attempts to shock the

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