An Unwilling Conquest Part 63

"So is this now all yours?"

Her gesture took in the whole complex.

"Or is it a family concern?"

She looked up at Harry, light colour in her cheeks, but made no attempt to excuse the question.

Harry smiled.

"Legally, it's still my father's. Effectively-' He halted, lifting his head to sweep his surroundings, before looking down to meet her gaze.

"I'm master of all I survey."

Slowly, Lucinda raised her brows.

"Indeed?" If he was her master, did that make her his mistress? But no--she knew very well that was not his aim.

"I believe you said Thistledown was in the second yard?" When Harry nodded, she inclined her head regally.

"I'll await you there."

Nose in the air, she headed through the archway into the second yard.

Inwardly, she hump bed dejectedly.

What was his reason for delay?

She located Thistledown by the simple expedient of standing in the middle of the square yard and looking about until an excitedly bobbing head caught her eye.

The mare seemed overjoyed to see her, pushing her nose against her skirts.

Lucinda hunted in her pockets and located 'the sugar lumps she'd stolen from the breakfast table; her offering was accepted with every evidence of equine pleasure.

Folding her arms on the top of the stall door, Lucinda watched as the mare lapped water from a bucket.

"Can it really be so very difficult to simply ask me again?" Thistledown rolled a dark eye enquiringly.

Lucinda gestured.

"Women are notoriously change- able--in all the novels I've ever read, the heroines always said no when first asked." Thistledown hurrumphed and came to nudge her shoulder.

"Precisely." Lucinda nodded and absentmindedly stroked the mare's nose.

"I'm ent.i.tled to a chance to change my mind." After a moment, she wrinkled her nose.

"Well--at least revise my decision in the light of fresh developments."

For she very definitely hadn't changed her mind. She knew what she knew--and Harry knew it, too. It was simply a matter of the d.a.m.ned man admitting it.

" Lucinda hump bed Thistledown whinnied softly.

From the shadows by the tack room, Harry watched the mare shake her head and nudge Lucinda. He smiled to himself--then turned as Dawlish came lumbering up. "Seen Hamish, have you?"

"I have. That colt of Warlock's looks promising, I agree."

"Aye--he'll win a pot before he's done, I reckon." Dawlish followed Harry's gaze to Lucinda. He nodded in her direction.

"P'raps you should introduce the lady to him--get her to have a little chat to him like she did with the mare?"

In mock surprise, Harry stared at his henchman.

"Is that approval I detect? From you--the arch misogynist

Dawlish frowned.

"Don't know as how I know what a misyginist is, rightly, but at least you've had the sense to find one as the horses like--and who might actually come in handy to boot." Dawlish snorted.

"What I wants to know is why you can't get a move on--so's we can all get back to knowing where we are?"

Harry's gaze clouded.

"There are a few loose ends I'm presently tying up."

"Is that what you calls them these days?"

"Apropos of which," Harry continued imperturbably, "Did you get that message to Lord Ruthven?" "Aye--his lordship said as he'd see to it."

"Good." Harry's gaze had returned to Lucinda.

"We'll leave about two.

I'11~take the curricle--you can go with Em. "

He didn't wait for Dawlish's grumbling grunt but sauntered after Lucinda. ~ She had left the mare and wandered along the loose boxes to stop at the end where a grey head had come out to greet her.

She looked around as Harry drew near.

"Did he win at Newmarket?"

Harry grinned and stroked Cribb's nose.

"He did." The horse nudged his pockets but Harry shook his head.

"No apples today, I'm afraid."

"When's he racing next?"

"Not this year." Harry took Lucinda's arm and steered her towards the gate.

"The Newmarket win took him to the top of his cla.s.s; I've decided to retire him at his peak, so to speak. He'll stand for the rest of this season. I might give him a run next year, but if the present interest in him as a stud continues, I'd be a fool to let him waste his energies on the track."