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reached heady proportions. But neither participant was listening as they continued to watch each other warily. Beatrice’s gaze was ensnared by the glittering sheen of the amber eyes.
    â€˜And us, Miss Fanshaw?’ Julius murmured. ‘What will we forfeit?’
    There was a deathly hush. From beneath the gazebo Lady Standish watched what was happening in appalled, stony silence, unable to believe her niece’s shocking behaviour. The look in her eyes was as potent as a spoken curse.
    â€˜I say the winner names the forfeit,’ Beatrice suggested.
    Julius nodded. ‘I think you have planned this, Miss Fanshaw.’
    Beatrice raised her chin a notch. ‘You don’t have to agree to race against me, Lord Chadwick. Indeed, I don’t know why I entertained such a notion.’
    He looked at her directly and she felt her breath come a little short. ‘Oh, I think you do,’ he said quietly. ‘I think you know exactly what you want and you will stop at nothing to get it. I read people well, Miss Fanshaw, and I think you have the ability to be absolutely single minded. You know very well why you entertained this notion.’
    Her smile was one of thin sarcasm. ‘You do a lot of thinking, Lord Chadwick.’
    â€˜All the time.’
    â€˜If I am as you say, then indirectly it is your doing.’
    â€˜I am sorry to find that after all these years you still carry a grudge. And now all I need to do is discover what forfeit you will ask of me, and the only way I can do that is to race against you—unless you will indulge me and tell me now.’
    She tossed her head haughtily. To forgo propriety and do what one wished was quite liberating. ‘No, not before the end of the race.’
    â€˜Very well. Until after the race.’
    There were loud guffaws from the crowd. ‘Careful, Julius,’ Roderick Caruthers shouted. ‘Be careful what you commit yourself to. You are a gentleman, remember, and gentlemen never renege on their word.’
    He grinned. ‘I’d better win, then.’
    â€˜And should I win, you will give me your word to honour the forfeit?’ Beatrice asked, holding his gaze. ‘I do.’
    Her expression was innocent, but her eyes were hard to read. She raised her brows slightly, and said, ‘I intend to hold you to that.’
    â€˜So the wager is made—but your forfeit? I think I have guessed, which wasn’t too difficult considering the circumstances. Though it is immaterial since you cannot win.’ Julius’s grin broadened and he looked at her knowingly, holding up one hand. ‘Don’t tell me. Larkhill.’
    Beatrice gave him a level look. ‘Oh, no. Believe me, Lord Chadwick, nothing I could ask from you would be as fine or as grand as Larkhill.’
    His eyes narrowed. ‘I am intrigued. Tell me.’
    â€˜Like I said, not until after the race—although if your horse is as splendid as you would have everyone believe, then I might well be tempted to take it from you.’
    â€˜Oh, no, lady—my horse is an exception. I have waited too long to get a horse by its sire—a winner of some top races—and I am not about to lose him now. But why are we discussing this? I shall win.’
    Beatrice smiled almost sweetly. ‘Then you have nothing to worry about, have you, Lord Chadwick?’
    â€˜You must be confident, to accept my challenge.’
    â€˜I would not be doing this if I wasn’t confident that I could beat you.’
    Beatrice would make sure that Lord Chadwick could not refuse the forfeit she would ask of him if she wonthe race, even while telling herself that what she was doing was foolish. Her eyes held his and she knew he would read her absolute determination to go ahead with this wager—foolish or not.
    â€˜Cousin Beatrice is no docile, ordinary young lady,’ George laughingly told Lord Chadwick. ‘She is a mannerless hoyden—a dark horse