Misleading Miss Verity by Carolyn Miller

Author:Carolyn Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kregel Publications
Published: 2019-01-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SİXTEEN

TWO EVENINGS LATER, Verity sat in the Chisholms’ dining room, exhaustion from the day’s hard ride curbing her participation in the conversation.

“And how is your wrist, Verity?”

“It has held up well enough.” She plastered on a smile, glad Mr. Jardine was not here so she need not hide from his all-too-observant eyes and uncanny insight. It wasn’t as though it was aching; that would doubtless come when the numbness wore off. Today’s ride along the Dee to Castle Douglas, a distance of almost ten miles, had been a great test, her wrist holding up surprisingly well, her leg muscles less so.

The long trip had proved to be about more than mere sightseeing, Helena and Alasdair in a world of their own, the affection they shared obvious, making Verity’s heart prick with envy, and her acceptance of a raced return against James easy. She had won, surprisingly. James’s heavier weight was no match for Firefly’s stamina and speed, and her win had not put him in a good mood. Helena’s insistence that Alasdair stay for dinner had proved a welcome break in the tension that clung to James like a dark cloud.

She focused again on the conversation, which now revolved around the selection of the leader of the Ridings. James and Alasdair grew quite animated, whilst the elder Chisholms discussed other matters, and Helena cast shy glances at her beau. James was adamant he held a chance, whilst his sisters held his chance at rather less than naught.

“Surely it won’t be you!” Frances scoffed.

“I don’t see why not,” James flushed. “I have as much right to lead as anyone.”

“But your horse …”

At her brother’s scowl Frances returned her attention to her meal.

Helena murmured, “It is a shame Firefly is too small for you.”

“Everything is a shame,” James muttered, attacking his potatoes. “No good horse, no money for a new one.”

Verity turned to Alasdair. “How is the leader selected?”

“There is a race in several weeks, of which the winner is declared the lead rider. It is supposed to be for a previously unselected young, single man who rides well, meant to represent the men who fought against the English.”

James sighed. “Guthrie was leader last year but the Guthries have been known to alter rules on occasion. And he threatened he’d get his father to make him lead rider.”

“How can he do that? Nobody can guarantee who will win a race.”

“You can if you have enough gold to grease enough palms.”

“Steady now,” said Alasdair. “Don’t be making accusations that cannae be supported.”

James snorted. “We all know it’s how he won last year.”

“How so?” Verity asked.

“Colin got some of his friends to ride and cut off the main contenders,” Alasdair said, gesturing to James and himself. “That meant us two.”

“Really?” Heat filled her chest. “That hardly seems fair.”

“Fair?” James snorted. “Guthrie doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

“He cheated?” A quick glance at Frances revealed her nod.

Alasdair shrugged. “But knowing that doesn’t mean anything will change.”

“Guthries are always about Guthries,” James muttered.

Helena leaned close to murmur, “Sir Donald Guthrie is the chief marshal.

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