Page 595 of From Rakes to Riches

“It’s becoming more and more popular with jockeys.”

“Those jockeys are all men.” When she opened her mouth to mount another protest, he continued, “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re all woman, Gemma.” He ran an annoyed hand through his hair. “You’re simply too small to ride it safely with all the muscling for position that’s involved.” He spread his hands before him. “So, the answer isno.”

Her back teeth ground together. “If you want to win the Two Thousand Guineas…if you want a chance at the Race of the Century…” She shifted forward. She wanted him to know she was serious and utterly undaunted. “I ride the way I ride.Ichoose. No one else.”

Rake didn’t want to agree. But he heardneedin her voice. A need she’d rarely had satisfied in her life.

Choice.

She needed to choose her own way—and he needed to stand aside and not challenge her. She was the most skilled rider he’d ever seen. If he wanted her to trust him, he needed to trust her.

So, he nodded, and a measure of tension released from her shoulders.

Still, a question wanted to be asked. “And September?”

“What about September?” Her eyes told him she knew what he was asking.

He shifted back in his chair and held her gaze. “You could ride Hannibal in the Race of the Century,” he said. “You could stay.”

Cloudy emotion passed behind her eyes. If pressed to put a name to it, Rake would say it looked suspiciously close to longing.

She blinked, and it was gone. She shook her head.

“I would double…tripleyour pay.” He wasn’t giving up so easily.

Gemma shook her head. “My disguise as Gem won’t hold for more than one race. I’m surprised it’s held this long. If we win?—”

“Whenwe win,” Rake cut in.

“Whenwe win, I must immediately disappear.”

“There’s no official rule that says a woman can’t be a jockey.”

Her eyebrows lifted with incredulity. “You’re being willful.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know any other way to be.”

“You are such a duke,” she scoffed. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Artemis may have mentioned it in passing.”

A laugh sprang up from Gemma, and it felt good to have drawn it out of her.

Still, he went as serious as he’d ever been about anything in his life. “You’re not planning on disappearing tomorrow because you might be exposed as Gem.”

Her smile fell away by slow increments. “No.”

“This is about Bolton.”

A streak of panic flashed behind her eyes. “He’ll be there tomorrow,” she said, words carefully measured.

“Aye.” He expected as much.

“He will recognize me,” she said. “I’ve no doubt of it.”

Rake nodded. “He will.”

“I must go.”