The Devil's Match by Victoria Vane

Author:Victoria Vane [Vane, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance historical other historical romance georgian romance late georgian seduction victoria vane
Amazon: B0091O1QM2
Publisher: Breathless Press
Published: 2012-08-22T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

They met early in the morning, while the dewy swirls of mist of still danced over the down, the mounted riders facing one another with a duelist’s salute.

“Where is your jockey?” DeVere asked with a puzzled frown.

“Did I not say? I intend to ride.”

“You? A woman in a sidesaddle?” He scoffed.

She met his mocking gaze with defiance. “It is how I am accustomed to going. Perhaps you’re not up to the challenge, my lord?”

“Oh, I’m always up, my lady...for any challenge. I only exercise care for your neck.”

His condescension and innuendo made Diana’s hackles rise. “You would do better to look after your own. If I can take a four-foot stone wall while chasing a fox, I daresay I can gallop over a gently sloping down.

DeVere threw his head back with a laugh. “You are in earnest?”

She gave him a tight smile. “Yes.” Diana had to suppress the urge to grind her teeth until his fit of mirth subsided.

“Fair enough, then,” he replied with a lingering smirk. “I have brought Pratt to be our lone official, if that is agreeable to you?”

The grizzled jockey who had followed his master tugged a forelock in her direction.

“I trust Pratt’s impartiality,” she said.

DeVere inclined his head to the starting post. “Shall we?”

“For the signal, I’ll drop me handkerchief.” Pratt turned to Diana.

“That is also acceptable,” she replied, her fingers nervously clenching the reins.

Preceding DeVere, Diana tried to quiet a heart that already seemed to be galloping across the down. They would run a single lap around the racecourse, a distance of one mile that would be completed in two potentially life-altering minutes. It was as if this moment were a culmination of fate, for Diana knew with a certainty that she would be forever changed if she lost.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing her gaze ahead, avoiding all eye contact with her nemesis, yet couldn’t help slanting a reluctant glance of admiration to the rider at her side, to the strong, handsome profile, his proud and solid seat on the horse. He was in every way formidable and would give no quarter.

The hour they had spent together in the gallery had been profoundly revealing, not just in the family skeletons but in the glimpse into his soul. He had shown a paradoxical protectiveness of his family and of his good name. He had protected his brother from the worst of the dirty secrets, and although he outwardly despised both of his parents, he had ensured their care and security. Although DeVere emulated much of their bad behavior in his own life, he refused to wed for his lack of faith in marital fidelity, whereas most other noblemen would just wed for the heir and then take a mistress for pleasure. She also knew he exercised sufficient responsibility and self-control not to sire bastards upon his mistresses. DeVere continued to be a conundrum that both fascinated and repulsed her.

Diana wondered now what devil had possessed her to undertake this wager. The

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