outskirts of Turnham. The sporting set called the dangerous course “threading the needle” because the path between was too narrow for two rigs to run abreast, so one carriage had to fall behind to allow the other to pass through. Whoever reined in first generally lost the race; it was nearly impossible to make up lost ground between the boulders and the finish line.
Some of Turnham’s townspeople had proposed blocking the track, but the local publicans and innkeepers made too much money off the private races run by reckless young blades to stand for that. Even the one death that had occurred hadn’t dampened anyone’s enthusiasm. Indeed, for the young men racing, it only lent more appeal to the course.
“There’d been talk about a rematch between Gabe and Chetwin because Gabe’s accident kept them from finishing the race,” Giles said grimly, “but I never thought your brothers would let Gabe go through with it.”
Minerva’s eyes turned cold. “You don’t know Gabe very well if you think he’ll listen to
them.
Not when it comes to Chetwin and that course. We have to stop him.” Hitching up her skirts, she climbed back into the rig. “Come on!”
“Damn it, Minerva, you cannot—”
She took up the reins and flicked them to get the horses moving. “I’m going with you or without you.”
As his tiger looked back at him in a panic, he sprinted to catch up with the rig, then leaped into it. Jerking the reins from her, he sent the horses into a run.
“If your brothers can’t stop him,” he clipped out, “what makes you think you can?”
“I have to try, don’t you see?” Her face looked bleak now. “Do you know how difficult it has been for Gabe all these years since Roger Waverly died? All that nasty talk about Gabe being the Angel of Death . . .”
She bit her lower lip. “It wasn’t
his
fault Mr. Waverly hit the boulders. If Mr. Waverly had just reined in when he saw he couldn’t make it… But no, the man
had
to beat Gabe. He could never stand Gabe doing anything better than him. And Gabe hasn’t been the same since. He acts like a happy-go-lucky fellow, but I’ve seen his face whenever Mr. Waverly is mentioned. I’ve seen how Gabe suffers.”
“A good deal less than the Waverlys suffer, I imagine,” Giles said tightly.
He could feel her gaze on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“His grandfather lost his only grandson, and Waverly’s sisterlost her only brother. Gabe knew what he was getting into when he ran that course. He should never have agreed.”
“He was nineteen, for goodness sake! Did you do nothing foolish at nineteen?”
Thinking of the night when he’d unwittingly ruined his brother’s prospective betrothal, Giles winced. “Gabe isn’t nineteen now,” he persisted.
“Yes, but he sees this as a matter of family honor. Chetwin insulted Mama.”
Giles hadn’t known that. He hadn’t witnessed the incident that provoked Chetwin’s initial challenge a few months ago—he’d been off in Bath, checking on something for Ravenswood. “Bloody hell.”
“My sentiments exactly,” she said.
Giles took a turn faster than he liked, throwing her against him. “Did you hear exactly how Gabe broke his arm?”
“Oliver said that the back of his rig hit one of the boulders as he came through ahead of Chetwin, and it sent his rig into a roll that tore it to pieces and threw Gabe from the carriage.”
“That’s right. And he could easily have broken his neck instead of his arm. I don’t know if you can bear to watch—”
“I’m not going to watch. I’m going to stop him.” Her voice thickened. “I refuse to see him die the same horrible death as Mr. Waverly.”
“What time is the race scheduled for?” he asked.
“Ten o’clock.”
“Check my watch. It’s in my left coat pocket.”
She did as he bade and let out a groan. “It’s nearly ten already.”
“We won’t make it.”
She dropped his watch back into his coat. “But I can
Some of Turnham’s townspeople had proposed blocking the track, but the local publicans and innkeepers made too much money off the private races run by reckless young blades to stand for that. Even the one death that had occurred hadn’t dampened anyone’s enthusiasm. Indeed, for the young men racing, it only lent more appeal to the course.
“There’d been talk about a rematch between Gabe and Chetwin because Gabe’s accident kept them from finishing the race,” Giles said grimly, “but I never thought your brothers would let Gabe go through with it.”
Minerva’s eyes turned cold. “You don’t know Gabe very well if you think he’ll listen to
them.
Not when it comes to Chetwin and that course. We have to stop him.” Hitching up her skirts, she climbed back into the rig. “Come on!”
“Damn it, Minerva, you cannot—”
She took up the reins and flicked them to get the horses moving. “I’m going with you or without you.”
As his tiger looked back at him in a panic, he sprinted to catch up with the rig, then leaped into it. Jerking the reins from her, he sent the horses into a run.
“If your brothers can’t stop him,” he clipped out, “what makes you think you can?”
“I have to try, don’t you see?” Her face looked bleak now. “Do you know how difficult it has been for Gabe all these years since Roger Waverly died? All that nasty talk about Gabe being the Angel of Death . . .”
She bit her lower lip. “It wasn’t
his
fault Mr. Waverly hit the boulders. If Mr. Waverly had just reined in when he saw he couldn’t make it… But no, the man
had
to beat Gabe. He could never stand Gabe doing anything better than him. And Gabe hasn’t been the same since. He acts like a happy-go-lucky fellow, but I’ve seen his face whenever Mr. Waverly is mentioned. I’ve seen how Gabe suffers.”
“A good deal less than the Waverlys suffer, I imagine,” Giles said tightly.
He could feel her gaze on him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“His grandfather lost his only grandson, and Waverly’s sisterlost her only brother. Gabe knew what he was getting into when he ran that course. He should never have agreed.”
“He was nineteen, for goodness sake! Did you do nothing foolish at nineteen?”
Thinking of the night when he’d unwittingly ruined his brother’s prospective betrothal, Giles winced. “Gabe isn’t nineteen now,” he persisted.
“Yes, but he sees this as a matter of family honor. Chetwin insulted Mama.”
Giles hadn’t known that. He hadn’t witnessed the incident that provoked Chetwin’s initial challenge a few months ago—he’d been off in Bath, checking on something for Ravenswood. “Bloody hell.”
“My sentiments exactly,” she said.
Giles took a turn faster than he liked, throwing her against him. “Did you hear exactly how Gabe broke his arm?”
“Oliver said that the back of his rig hit one of the boulders as he came through ahead of Chetwin, and it sent his rig into a roll that tore it to pieces and threw Gabe from the carriage.”
“That’s right. And he could easily have broken his neck instead of his arm. I don’t know if you can bear to watch—”
“I’m not going to watch. I’m going to stop him.” Her voice thickened. “I refuse to see him die the same horrible death as Mr. Waverly.”
“What time is the race scheduled for?” he asked.
“Ten o’clock.”
“Check my watch. It’s in my left coat pocket.”
She did as he bade and let out a groan. “It’s nearly ten already.”
“We won’t make it.”
She dropped his watch back into his coat. “But I can
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