She studied his face, trying to spot any trace of anger. She had worried that he would mock her in some way, but his expression was mild, even friendly, she noted with no little relief, and there was nothing in his manner that hinted at the intimacy they had shared.

"The journey passed quite pleasantly, thank you." She made a quick assessment of the black and a sorrel named Hannibal's Prize that would also be running. "It looks as if the horses also fared well."

Caleb slid the brush over Sentinel's glossy black coat. "According to Jack Johnson, the walker, they managed without a hitch."

They talked for a while of the race the animals would be running later that day, then she left to speak to each of the grooms. She praised Jack Johnson for taking such good care of the horses, then walked over to the jockey, Jimmy Murphy.

"What do you think, Jimmy? You and Noir seem to have been working well together. How do you assess his chances of winning against such a difficult field?"

Jimmy realized he still wore his flat felt cap and jerked it hurriedly off his head, exposing his rumpled bright red hair. "Noir's the best, ma'am. He's gonna win for sure and certain."

"What of Sentinel and Hannibal's Prize? Are they ready for this, do you think?"

"They don't have Noir's experience, o' course, but they're fast, ma'am. And they surely do like to win."

"Then let them," she said with a smile. "Sentinel runs best if he stays in the field until the last leg of the race. Hold him back until then." She flicked a glance at Caleb, who had walked up beside her. It felt a little harder to breathe with him standing so near.

"Just don't bury him," Caleb told Jimmy. "Keep him somewhere toward the front or outside of the pack. When you make the last turn, cut him loose. Sentinel will do the rest."

"And with Hannibal," Lee added, "don't go to the whip. He hates it. He'll draw back rather than move ahead. I imagine you've figured that out already."

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Tanner done cautioned me on that."

"Good. As to the rest of it, listen to Mr. Tanner. He knows what he's doing." She didn't look at Caleb this time, but a blush crept into her cheeks. Caleb had known only too well what he was doing that afternoon in the meadow.

"Yes, ma'am," Jimmy said. "I surely will."

Jimmy left but Caleb remained where he was, just a few inches behind her. She could feel his solid presence and her pulse kicked up.

"He'll do a good job. Jimmy wants to please you." His voice softened into the same tone he used to gentle the horses. "I'd like to please you, too, Vermillion. I think we both know exactly the way I might do that."

Her cheeks burned. Her skin was tingling, her heart thumping. He wanted to please her and he knew exactly the way. Sweet God in heaven. She remembered the way he had feasted on her breasts, the fierce, searing pleasure, and suddenly felt hot all over.

"M-my aunt will be waiting," she said. "I have to go."

His mouth edged up. "Perhaps you'll need to come back a little later. This evening, perhaps… to talk about tomorrow's race?"

Oh, God. Her legs felt shaky, her mouth dry. "No, I… I don't think so. I have to go." She turned away from him and practically ran from the barn. Her heart was still hammering when she spotted Aunt Gabby's carriage. Wingate's vehicle sat behind it, and one belonging to Elizabeth Sorenson.

She took a deep breath and walked toward them, trying not to think of Caleb and hoping they wouldn't notice the heightened color in her cheeks. Lord, the man was a menace to the female population.

She forced a smile to her face and headed for the group ahead. Lord Claymont had not yet arrived, but he would get there soon. Women were mostly excluded from the masculine world of horseracing, the reason Parklands' Thoroughbreds raced under the earl's blue-and-gold colors, a ruse that fooled no one but satisfied the rigid lines of conduct established by the powerful Jockey Club.

She joined the group in Aunt Gabby's carriage, but her thoughts remained on Caleb and the heat in his eyes and what it did to her when he looked at her the way he had in the barn. Thank God, the races were getting ready to start, a match race, first, between two rival owners, then heat-racing, where the horses that won each heat then raced against each other. Several sweepstakes races were to follow, events that would include Sentinel and Hannibal's Prize. Noir wouldn't be racing until day after the morrow, when the Newmarket Gold Cup was scheduled to be run.

By the end of the afternoon, Sentinel had won his race and Journey had finished third in another. Parklands' Thoroughbreds had made a very good showing thus far and the big race was yet to come.

"My, what a day," Aunt Gabby said laughing. "You can be proud of yourself, darling. Whether you get credit or not, you have proved yourself a worthy opponent."

Vermillion didn't care whether her name appeared on a sweepstakes' cup. She cared about the horses and watching them run. "It isn't the most important thing, but it does feel good to win. I cannot deny it."

Later that night, she attended the party Aunt Gabby threw to celebrate the day and didn't get to bed until nearly dawn. She was exhausted. Her feet ached from dancing for so many hours and her head hurt from too much champagne. She slept far longer than she intended and woke up grumpy and out of sorts.

"I hate being late," she grumbled as she traveled with Jeannie to the racecourse later that morning in one of the open carriages. "It makes a bad impression on the grooms." Since none of their horses would be racing today, the rest of their party remained at the house her aunt had rented—most of them still abed.

"I need to speak to Jimmy Murphy," she said. "Go over a few things concerning tomorrow's race."

"The boy will be 'ere—'e adores you for letting 'im race. And that new trainer will be here as well. What was 'is name?"

Vermillion ignored a faint leap of her heart. "Tanner. Caleb Tanner."

"Oui… now I recall. 'E is very handsome, n'est-ce pas?" Jeannie cast her a glance. The woman had been her maid and her companion for years. Jeannie knew her well, better even than her aunt. Lee prayed Jeannie didn't suspect that Caleb was the man she thought to take as her first lover.

"I suppose he is attractive… in a rather basic fashion."

"The man is built like a stallion, no? I have seen him working. All those beautiful muscles and those eyes… so dark and hot."

"I'm afraid I haven't noticed."

Jeannie said no more, but her lips curved in a knowing smile Lee purposely ignored. There was no way her friend could know for certain and this was one subject Lee didn't intend to discuss any further.

Fortunately they were nearing the racecourse and Jeannie's attention fixed on the colorful sights and sounds. The coachman parked the carriage in the shade of a plane tree and Lee set off to make a check of the horses.

As she had expected, the animals were being well cared for. Caleb was a conscientious head groom, as capable as Jacob had been, perhaps even more so. But as she wandered through the barn, stirring up dust motes and inhaling the scent of new-mown hay and freshly oiled leather, she saw no sign of him.

She spoke to Jack Johnson and a small blond boy named Howie Pocock, now the youngest of Parklands' grooms.

"I'm looking for Jimmy. Do you know where he might have gone?"

" 'E went off wi' Mr. Tanner," Howie said. "I ain't exactly sure where they went, ma'am."

"Thank you, Howie. I'll just have a quick look round." With the races yet to start, she wandered out of the barn in search of them, wanting to be certain everything was in place for tomorrow's all-important Gold Cup Race.

Perhaps they're in another one of the buildings, she thought, not seeing Jimmy or Caleb among the grooms or trainers milling about.

Deciding to take a shortcut between two low-roofed wooden structures that housed other owners' horses, she was halfway down the narrow path when a man stepped out of the shadows along the wall. She hadn't noticed him when she entered the path. If she had, she would have gone the longer way round.

"Top o' the mornin', luv." He smiled down at her and she wished she hadn't left her bonnet in the carriage. She wasn't wearing one of her low-cut gowns, but his hazel eyes slid over her as if she were. "Looks like today's me lucky day."

There was something in that too-bold glance that set warning bells off in her head. "Excuse me. I'm afraid I've made a wrong turn somewhere." Turning round on the path, she started back the way she had come. At the sound of his footfalls in the grass behind her, she quickened her pace, but a big hand closed over her wrist and he spun her back to face him.

"What's yer hurry, luv?" His eyes wandered again, fixed on the roundness of her bosom. "Surely, ye've a minute or two ta spare." He was a young man, blond, big through the shoulders, not unpleasant to look at, though his clothes were badly worn, his hair shaggy at the nape of his neck, and he badly needed a shave.

"I'm sorry, sir, I have business to attend. Please let go of my hand." Angry at herself for wandering off on such a deserted path, knowing there were blacklegs and sharpers about, she tried to pry lose her hand.

"Me name's Danny," he said, his hold going tighter. "I'm pleased ta make yer acquaintance." A glance up and down the narrow space between the buildings confirmed that she was alone and he started hauling her toward him. "Yer a fetchin' little baggage and no mistake. I can see ye don't come cheap, luv, but me blunts as good as the next man's." He held up two pieces of silver. "What ye say, lass? A quick tumble before ye go on yer way?"