Still, in the end, she had lost him, as she had intended from the moment she had spotted him behind her.

Lee reined in the gray, slowing the animal to a canter, letting him blow a little before she found a nice shady place for them to rest. Coeur had worked beautifully this morning, an exhilarating outing for both of them.

She grinned. More so with Caleb Tanner in relentless pursuit.

Whatever his reason for following her, it could wait until she returned to the stable. From morning to night, she was at someone else's beck and call. She had claimed this morning for herself and she would tolerate no interference.

At least those were her thoughts before a rider burst out of the woods and raced his horse up next to Coeur. She recognized Caleb Tanner's furious face the instant before his arm snaked out and he jerked her off her horse. With a shriek of outrage, her cap flying into the air, Lee landed facedown across Caleb Tanner's hard thighs, the air whooshing out of her lungs.

The last thing she expected was the impact of his big hand slamming down on her bottom, burning like fire through her breeches.

She shrieked as he delivered a second stinging blow and his palm went up again.

"Don't you dare!" she shouted, freezing his hand in midair. "You… you… madman! You jackanapes!"

Over her shoulder she saw a look of pure astonishment appear on his handsome face. "What the bloody—?"

"Put me down this instant!"

The horse danced beneath them, but Tanner made no move to release her, just kept staring at her as if he had never seen her before.

"Did you hear what I said? Put me down!"

He jerked her up so quickly her braid, already loose, came completely undone. The next thing she knew, she was standing on her feet beside his horse, her long hair curling around her shoulders, Caleb Tanner sliding off the bay and turning to face her, his expression as dark as a thundercloud.

Lee's own temper heated. "Why were you following me? What did you think you were doing?"

Hard brown eyes locked on her face. "I thought you were a thief."

"A thief!"

"That's right. When I went into the barn, the gray was missing. I saw you riding away, roaring over the fields like a Bedlamite, and I thought you were trying to steal him."

She could feel his eyes on her, taking in her clean, unmade-up face, the freckles across her nose that rice powder usually covered, the pinkness of her unrouged lips and the heightened color in her cheeks.

Something shifted in his features and some of the harshness eased from his expression. "I thought you were a boy."

She hoisted her chin, wishing she could grow about a foot, just for a moment or two. "Well, I'm not a thief and I'm not a boy."

His gaze moved down her body, taking in the breeches that fit so snugly over her legs and rump. His mouth curved into an insolent smile and she knew he was thinking of the way she had looked draped over his thighs and the stinging blows he had delivered to her bottom. "So I noticed."

More color washed into her face. She couldn't imagine how he managed to do that, when no other male seemed able. "The horse is mine to do with as I please, just like all of the animals in the stable. I ride every morning and I shall continue to do so whether that meets with your approval or not."

He made a slight bow of his head, but the mocking glint in his eyes remained. "Whatever you say, Miss Durant."

"I won't stand for insolence from the men I employ. I ought to dismiss you for what you did." His expression remained inscrutable, but she thought she caught a hint of uneasiness in his eyes.

"I didn't want to lose the horse," he said.

"I gathered that." She sighed. "I'll admit it seems unfair to dismiss a man for doing his job, perhaps even putting himself at risk to do it. If I had been a thief, you could have been injured or even killed."

He looked into her face. "And I suppose you would have cared."

Lee forced herself not to glance away from those dark, probing eyes. "Of course I would have cared. As long as you're working at Parklands, you're my responsibility. I do, however, expect an apology. There was hardly a need to manhandle me the way you did."

The tension eased from his shoulders and a corner of his mouth edged up. His eyes looked warmer, a rich chocolate brown circled by a fringe of thick black lashes. "I assure you, Miss Durant, had I known you were a woman, I would have restrained myself. Dressed as you are, I don't think you can fault my assumptions. You're lucky your hat flew off. If it hadn't, I might have given you the thrashing I intended to give the thief."

Her bottom still burned from the blows he had delivered and his impudent smile said he knew. "If that is your idea of an apology, Mr. Tanner, perhaps you had better find employment—"

"I'm sorry. You're right, I should have been more careful. I should have checked to be sure the boy I thought was stealing a valuable horse wasn't the mistress of the house dressed up like a man."

Irritation bubbled through her. It occurred to her the man was amazingly well-spoken for a groom and she wondered vaguely where he might have come from. Wherever it was, he could return, for all she cared. Let him find another job somewhere far distant from Parklands.

"This discussion is over, Mr. Tanner. You may pick up your things when you get back to the barn." Lee turned to reach for Coeur's reins, intending to swing up on his back and ride away. She didn't need a surly head groom. Even if he was one of the best horse handlers she had ever seen, she would manage somehow without him.

Tanner caught her wrist. His hand felt big and warm and a tingle of awareness went through her. "I need this job, Miss Durant. I promise I won't interfere with your riding again."

Lee sighed. She didn't like the man, but he was good at his job. And with Jacob gone, she really did need him. "All right, I suppose that will have to do."

Caleb Tanner smiled and something warm slid into her stomach.

"Thank you for letting me stay," he said. Reaching toward the gray, he caught Coeur's reins and handed them over. "You're a very good rider, by the way. You and the horse performed extremely well together."

"Thank you." She found herself smiling at the compliment and realized it wasn't the usual pasted-on sort but actually sincere. "I enjoyed the chase… all but the end."

His mouth twitched. His lips had a sensuous curve she had noticed the first time she saw him.

"If that is the case," he said, "perhaps I could join you some morning. Maybe you could give me some pointers, help me improve my seat."

As if he needed any help. They both knew he was every bit as competent a rider as she, maybe better.

"Perhaps I could," she said loftily, just to annoy him. Reaching out to catch the reins, she waited while Tanner cupped his hands, then placed her knee in his locked palms and allowed him to lift her up onto the horse. "Good day, Mr. Tanner."

"Good day, Miss Durant."

And then she reined away, she and Coeur running like fire back toward the stable, wishing she didn't have to go, that she could stay outside in the sun and the fresh spring air.

That she didn't have to return to the house and once more become Vermillion.


Caleb watched the girl ride away. He still couldn't believe the fresh-faced young woman he had pulled off the gray was the infamous courtesan Vermillion. Without her face paint, she didn't look nearly as sophisticated as she had through the windows of the house last night, nor nearly as stunningly beautiful. Without the kohl beneath her eyes, they weren't the same too-bold blue-green, nor half as seductive as they had seemed.

She looked young and fresh and innocent. She looked sweet and lovely—and infinitely appealing. If he didn't know who she was, if he didn't suspect she might be involved in selling information to the French, he would have found himself completely enthralled.

As it was, as he rode at a distance behind her back to the stable, he found himself wondering about her, wondering at the life she had chosen, at the men she invited into her bed.

By the time he arrived at the stable, he expected to find her gone. Instead, she was there in the stall with the gray, brushing the horse's dappled coat to a brilliant sheen and currying its mane.

Caleb stepped up behind her, took the currycomb from her hand. She smelled of soap and horses, but he caught the faint whiff of rosewater. She had replaited her hair, he noticed, but the image remained of the way it looked tumbled free, in a riot of fiery curls around her shoulders.

"I'll take care of the horse," he said. "That's what I get paid for."

"Thank you, but I enjoy it." She retrieved the comb from his hand and started pulling it through the animal's mane. Standing behind her, he could feel the warmth of her body and his loins began to fill. He was hard by the time he stepped away, grateful when Arlie Spooner's head appeared over the top of the stall.

"Beg pardon, Miss Lee. Your aunt's askin' after ye, wantin' ta know when ye'll be comin' back ta the house."

Vermillion made a sound that might have been a sigh of regret. "Tell her I'll only be a few more minutes."

"Aye, Miss." Arlie tottered away in his slow, shuffling gait, his back hunched over, making him a full foot shorter than Caleb.

"Why does he call you that?" Caleb asked. "Why does he call you Lee?"

The currycomb paused. "Lee is my middle name. It's the name I prefer. It's what my friends call me."

"And Arlie Spooner is your friend?"

She looked up at him from the shadows of the barn and even without the kohl her eyes were the color of aquamarines. "Of course. Arlie has worked at Parklands since I was a little girl. He loves horses as much as I do. I consider him a very dear friend."

Caleb frowned. She was Vermillion, a seductress, a power-hungry female who took countless lovers and tossed them away like tattered clothes. She wasn't supposed to love horses and claim servants as her friends.

"Did I say something to displease you?"

Caleb shook his head. "No, not at all." His fingers brushed hers as he took the currycomb from her hand, and he tried not to notice how soft her skin felt. "You'd better go. Your aunt will be looking for you."

She tossed him a look. "Thank you for reminding me. I suppose for the short duration that you will be employed here, I shall have to get used to taking orders."

Caleb glanced away. "Sorry." He said nothing more but inwardly he cursed. He was too damned used to taking charge, too used to being in command. If he wasn't careful, Vermillion was going to suspect he was more than just a servant.

Vermillion. But the young woman he had seen this morning bore little resemblance to the image conjured by the name. As he finished grooming the gray and started on the tall bay gelding, Caleb found himself wondering about the pretty young woman who called herself Lee.






3


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The horse races at Epsom Downs were attended by patrons from every level of society. From the lowliest ragpicker who stood watching from behind the rail to the royal party in their private boxes above the starting line.

The Durant women, longtime racing aficionados and owners of some of the finest racing stock in the country, sat with their own entourage, guests for the occasion who had traveled behind them in a string of expensive black carriages along the route to the track.

Activity swirled around them: apple sellers cooking on their tiny coal stoves, ale men selling beer at a penny a pot; an organ-grinder making music while one of those silly little monkeys jumped up and down on his shoulder. There were pickpockets and blacklegs, too, lying in wait for the unwary. Lee marveled at all of it, enjoying the cacophony of sights and sounds.

Anxiously awaiting the most important event of the day—the sweepstakes race in which Noir would be running—she sat next to Colonel Wingate, one of the three men most seriously vying for her affections.

A position soon to be filled.

At her aunt's insistence, Vermillion had agreed to announce her choice of lover on her upcoming nineteenth birthday. It was time she made a place for herself in the world, her aunt believed, past time, in fact.

On that particular point, Vermillion agreed. Aunt Gabby had her own life to live. She couldn't be expected to shelter her niece beneath her protective wing forever. For more than a year, Gabriella had scrupulously worked toward the goal of setting her young charge free. Vermillion would choose her first lover and assume her place as the toast of the demimonde.