Page 555 of From Rakes to Riches

“Don’t you know your own age?” asked Lady Artemis.

The full brunt of her gaze was directed at Gemma now, and a twinkle shone in her dark eyes. Though those depths were as dark as her brother’s, they held an easy-to-read openness. If Gemma was reading them correctly now, they were toying with her.

A swift change of subject was in order. “Have you considered giving Dido another year?” asked Gemma in what was likely the clunkiest change of subject since grammar had been invented.

Lady Artemis rolled her eyes skyward. “Not this again.”

Fair enough.

“Dido is a goer. I know it. You know it. Anyone with eyes knows it,” continued the lady, exasperated. “It’s settled.”

“But,” said Gemma, “why does the Two Thousand Guineas have to be her first race?” And it hit her. “You want to best your brother.”

Lady Artemis smiled as if the stable lad Gem was a bit thick. “Of course.”

“But you could best him at the Race of the Century.”

Lady Artemis laughed. “I prefer to put him out of his misery sooner than later.”

The lady’s confidence in Dido was clear, but an uneasy feeling snaked through Gemma’s gut. She couldn’t let up just yet. “Have you considered entering her in a small racing meeting? Maybe take her to a less crowded course to gain some turf experience, then on to Newmarket?”

Lords and ladies didn’t like to be told what to do, so Gemma knew to approach the subject with an abundance of caution.

“No one will know what hit them when Dido takes to the turf,” said Lady Artemis, blithely brushing off Gemma’s suggestion. “You’ve seen her. Her speed sets the track on fire.”

“Aye,” was all Gemma could respond. Making an owner see the truth about a beloved horse could be nigh on impossible. She’d sooner get agreement from a wall.

They topped the rise of a hill, and the valley spread below them, green with summer. A canal glinted silver in the sun as it lazily wove through and divided lands into townships, farms, and estates. From east to west, Gemma counted three church steeples, in three different villages.

Lady Artemis pointed across Gemma. “We’re going there.”

A few hundred yards away, on a slightly higher hill, stood a ramshackle structure that looked to have been built a few thousand years ago. “Are you sure?”

This amused Lady Artemis, for she laughed at length. “It’s actually quite structurally sound.” Gemma’s doubts must’ve shown on her face, for the lady continued, “It was constructed to look that way. Although there is still a portion of original Roman wall on its west side.”

Only aristocrats would purposefully build a structure to look as if it were about to collapse into rubble at any moment. Such things amused them, and aristocrats were nothing if not dedicated to their own amusement.

After they’d dismounted and then settled the horses with Cal, Gemma began exploring, finding the old portion of Roman wall. Tentatively, she laid her palm on those two-thousand-year-old stones. Warm from the sun, their stored heat seeped into her. They’d survived all this time, without a hint of mortar, for her to arrive at this moment and touch them.

“Gem?”

Gemma found Lady Artemis propped against an archway, observing her with curiosity. Gemma was instantly on edge. “Yes?”

Lady Artemis pushed off the support and clasped her hands tightly before her. She was nervous. “I’m going to say something,” she said. “And I hope you won’t take offense.”

“Mmm,” was all Gemma responded.

Lady Artemis held a look in her eyes both determined and unpredictable. Gemma knew enough about the aristocracy to give a wide berth to determined and unpredictable sisters of dukes.

“My brother knows.”

“Knows what?” Gemma asked, even as her heart beat a hard, wobblythudagainst her ribs.

She knewwhat.

Lady Artemis lifted a single, disbelieving eyebrow. “That you’re a woman, of course.”

Suddenly, it became difficult for Gemma to draw breath. She may have even made a choking sound.

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