Page 11 of Shining Knight
They cast glances at each other.
“What is it?”
“He is… ah… letting her drive his phaeton.”
“Eugenia is quite handy with the ribbons. Why the look?” Suddenly, images of her racing her brothers across the open spaces at The Grange flashed into his mind, but surely Perth would not allow her to go tooling through Hyde Park in such a fashion. There had been that curricle race when she had very first come to London, but Graham had been able to join her so that it did not appear so scandalous. Perth was a member of the Four-Horse Club, however, and perhaps he would approve of a wife who was a notable whip. There had been a few ladies who had driven phaetons around the park, but usually they were not young, fresh-faced debutantes.
“Are you going to tell me?”
Petersham inclined his head. “You can see for yourself.”
A sick feeling in the pit of Graham’s stomach preceded the visual assault on his eyes. There she was, high in the phaeton… except there were two of them and she wasn’t driving. Thank God.
“The devil, you say! I do believe they are racing!” Hardy exclaimed.
It appeared that the Duke of Farnsworth and Perth were racing through Hyde Park.
“Hell has frozen over,” Petersham muttered.
Perth was their friend, but he was very upstanding.
“Is this about winning Eugenia’s hand?” Graham looked at Petersham and Hardy for answers because he was utterly dumbfounded. He received a blank stare and a Gallic shrug for answers.
As they passed, Eugenia gave a smile and a wave.
“They are going to kill someone,” he remarked.
“I never, ever would have bet on the chances of that happening. Should we see who won?” Hardy asked, already leading his horse in that direction to follow. “Fifty on Perth?” Hardy called to Petersham.
“Why not?” he returned and followed Hardy.
As they made their way in the trail of dust behind the two racing vehicles, Graham could only shake his head. If there was any consolation to be had, at least Eugenia had not been driving.
When the little party caught up with the carriages, Graham could hear a great deal of laughter, so at least it seemed to be amicable.
“Who won?” Sir Martin asked.
“Farnsworth, by a hair,” Perth said, half grudgingly. “Only because the fair lady distracted me.”
“That is a most ungentlemanly thing to say,” she said, giving him a teasing nudge on the arm.
“That was an easy fifty,” Petersham goaded Sir Martin.
Farnsworth chuckled. “I do declare I have not done anything like that in ages. Perhaps not since your father and I raced to Brighton,” he said to Eugenia.
And this was how he thought to woo her? “What was the inspiration for such a display in the park, may I ask?” Graham sounded like a prude even to his own ears.
“Why, for the honor of escorting Lady Eugenia to the Oglesby garden party tomorrow.”
They had all lost their minds. Graham was the last person to preach propriety, but such a caper was just not done and he could not believe a duke and an earl would risk her reputation like this. He at last met Eugenia’s gaze, which she seemed to have been avoiding. The defiant glare she shot at him was as though she were daring him to scold her. There would be no satisfaction from that quarter today. Knighton was the one who had given Farnsworth permission to court her, and Perth was a relation.
Graham no longer felt in the mood to be riding. He tipped his hat without a word and turned his horse to leave. He rode to his club and decided he had also lost his mind. However, when he arrived, the news had already reached the hallowed doors of White’s.
Bets were being placed left and right over which man would win her hand. Graham could not shut his ears. Perth had a slight edge because he was younger, but Farnsworth was not far behind because being a duchess apparently outweighed almost everything else.
“What would she think of a mere viscount?” he drawled to himself.
“What’s that, Tinsley?” Hardy asked, apparently having followed him there in order to place his own bets. “If you have any private information, help a friend out. I just lost fifty quid to Petersham, after all.”
