Page 48 of Of Socialites and Prizefights

“Are we schmoozing around with all your friends now that the race is over?” she asked against his lips.

“Friendsis a strong word.”

“Then you won’t feel bad for lying to them about how you're so infatuated with me. Don’t worry,” she added, stepping back and trailing her hands down his arms until she reached his fingers. “You don’t need to do anything other than introduce me, and follow my lead.”

It was obvious that Appleton had little interest in the other racetrack attendees, but he took Deepa around and introduced her to everyone he could tolerate. She quickly determined the difference between the people he actually disliked and those in whom he was simply disinterested through no fault of their own. His problem, she guessed, was that he would always rather be at home with his horses than out socialising with other people, no matter who they were or how friendly they might be.

She would have felt bad for dragging him back and forth between so many different people, smiling and chatting with the women and very pointedly not flirting with the other men, except that he’d hired her to do exactly that. He didn’t seem to care if people disliked him or thought him rude, which was just as well, because she couldn’t work miracles to that extent. He only cared that people might think that he didn't like women theright way, and even then, he probably would have been happy to ignore that too if it didn't have more serious ramifications.

“Lyndon, old thing,” said a possible cousin whom Deepa could have sworn was someone from parliament, flushed and tipsy from celebratory champagne after winning his bets. “So good to see you! You’re never at these things, you know, and we miss you, old boy.”

“You have Deepa to thank for today, I think,” said Appleton.

An older woman in a cream dress and severe pearls looked Deepa up and down, a fluffy plume bobbing judgementally from her fascinator. “Appleton, dear boy. How on earth did you end up with a woman like this?”

Deepa’s smile sharpened like a knife’s edge, perfectly friendly and terrifyingly polite as she waited for the group to decide whether the woman was being complimentary or insulting. She knew how it was intended, of course, but these things tended to go by popular vote.

“We met at Eden,” Appleton said, entirely truthfully.

“He asked me to dance,” Deepa supplied, “I said yes, and he hasn’t let me go since.”

“Of course you said yes,” the older woman said with a haughty sniff.

“Well, naturally,” laughed a younger woman in a royal blue dress. “Who would say no to Lyndon?”

“A bit of a late bloomer, but it had to happen sometime, eh?” the cousin said jovially, clapping Appleton on the shoulder.

“I've been out dancing before,” said Appleton. “I just prefer to keep my private life private.”

That, Deepa suspected, was also true.

“Oh, but I love going out,” she said with a bright smile. “I told him, it’s perfectly alright with me to stayed joined at the hip, but we can’t stay cooped up the entire week without getting some fresh air and seeing the sights.”

“Did he keep you dancing as long as that?” asked another of the women, leaning in and just begging for gossip.

“I wouldn’t have thought Appleton had it in him,” added her man, casting Appleton a speculative glance.

“We danced at Eden, yes, absolutely,” Deepa confirmed. “And then he took me home and we spent the next two days in bed!”

The group laughed in delight and no small amount of surprise, as much for her saying it as at the thought of Appleton, of all people, keeping a woman in his bed for so long, or at all.

“It's a marvellous way to spend the time, don't get me wrong,” Deepa said, wrapping her arm tighter around Appleton’s back to keep him from making an escape. “But I’m afraid I’m much more of a social butterfly than poor Lyndon. I've been threatening to drag him out to all matter of parties. I simply couldn’t let him miss the Royal Ascot — this one, at least, was an easy battle to win.”

“Does that mean we’ll be seeing more of you this summer?” asked another of the men. “I know you take your horsemanship seriously, and your training keeps you so terribly busy all the time, but it would be jolly good to see you out more.”

“I find I’m hard-pressed to refuse Deepa anything she asks,” said Appleton, turning into her. He didn’t exactly look besotted, but he was trying. “You’ll see me at the Royal International Horse Show next month, at the very least.”

“July!” the man began, dismayed.

“Oh, you’ll certainly see us before that,” Deepa cut in, giving Appleton a gentle nudge of admonishment. “July is still terribly far away, and I’m sure I can convince him to socialise with more people than horses if I try hard enough.”

“Of course, darling,” he murmured, gracefully acquiescing. He still felt a little stiff, but it was only their first time out together. Hopefully he would warm up with practice.

As the afternoon swam on, Deepa relaxed, and gradually, the conversations moved away from her and Appleton — though scrutiny remained — and she was able to drift along with the ebb and flow of talk rather than having to direct it from start to finish.

“You seem thoughtful,” Appleton noted during a momentarily lull, during which the two of them went off to fetch fresh drinks.

“Do I?” she asked airily.

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