Page 610 of From Rakes to Riches

The time for her to go.

To separate herself from his world.

To let them heal.

Without her.

Starting now.

She cut a glance toward Hannibal. “You’re quite the handsome lad with that flower garland gracing your neck.”

He gave a soft whicker as if acknowledging the truth of her words.

They arrived at his box, and Gemma stopped dead in the center of the gate opening. There, propped against one of the stall walls, was Rake, arms crossed over his chest, waiting.

Magnificent.

As ever, that was the first word that came to mind at the sight of him. Her heart gave a hard thump in her chest.

As ever too.

Yet a look glinted in his eyes—one she didn’t particularly want to read. It wasn’t concern or grief or elation at having won the Two Thousand Guineas. An impenetrable, closed-off look.

Anger.Not the hot, blustery sort, but rather cold and clear-eyed.

He knew.

Right.

Gemma walked Hannibal into the box, threaded his reins through the tie ring, and set about removing his saddle before she rubbed him down.

All the while, she felt those angry eyes upon her.

She hefted the saddle over the box wall and heard a voice, low and steady, at her back. “Shall we do this here, then?”

Gemma froze. She’d hoped he would allow her to groom and feed Hannibal first. She shook her head. “Not here with Hannibal,” she said, knowing it was the right thing. “He needs calm.”

Gemma couldn’t be certain she would be able to maintain her composure through the coming conversation.

“Wilson,” Rake called out.

He was such a duke. But, really, how on earth could Wilson hear?—

A head poked around the corner. “Need something, Your Grace?”

“Get a lad in here to groom and feed Hannibal.”

Gemma couldn’t remain silent. “But I’m already here. I can take care of?—”

Rake gave his head a curt shake. Gemma’s mouth snapped shut. “Not you.”

If Wilson detected anything untoward, he gave no indication as he set about his master’s orders.

“After you,” said Rake.

But Gemma couldn’t go just yet. She stepped around to face Hannibal and stroke his nose. “You showed your heart today, my friend,” she said, low, for his ears only. “I’ll never forget you.” He lowered his head, and she angled forward so her forehead met his. “Goodbye.”

She swiped away inevitable tears, Rake watching her. For an instant, she might’ve glimpsed an emotion other than anger. Then he blinked, and it was gone, and he was gesturing that she lead the way.

---