Page 25 of Seduction of a Widow

She pulled Leslie down onto the divan. “Are you well?”

“Me? I am fine. It is Lord Barnton who is hurt.”

Lady Flora sat to Leslie’s left, and Evan stepped away from the divan. “Miss Ross,” he said to the young woman standing opposite him.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied, and took the last space on the divan.

The other men took nearby seats while Evan remained standing.

“Is there any further word on his lordship?” Leslie asked.

“The baroness has ordered broth to be prepared in readiness for when he awakens,” Lord Henry said.

“What happened?” Miss Ross asked.

Leslie shook her head. “I am not entirely sure. The earl cried out and his horse sped past me, dragging him.”

Lady Flora shuddered. “How very harrowing for you.”

“Now nearly as harrowing as things were for Lord Barnton,” Leslie said, but Evan suspected that wasn’t true.

She had been terribly frightened at the prospect of the earl dying. The sentiment was more than the bastard deserved. She was made of tougher stuff than most women, particularly women like Lady Flora. Still, she was a woman, and women shied away from violence and death. He recalled her treatment of Isabel. Isabel had intended violence. Not only had Leslie avoided that violence, she had diffused the viscount’s temper.

“You didn’t see what happened?” Lady Langley asked.

Leslie shook her head. “Nae.”

A knowing glint shone in Lady Langley’s eyes. “You were winning, weren’t you?”

“We hadn’t gotten close enough to the finish line for me to be able to make that claim,” Leslie replied. “But I had passed him.”

“How interesting that he has another mishap when he was about to lose a second race to you.”

“We do not know that I would have won. You know how quickly a race like that can change.”

“So true,” Lady Flora said with gravity.

“A skilled horseman will not spend his animal early in the race,” Lord Mason said. “I have had the pleasure of seeing the earl race at Clarefield. He won that race by a full length.”

“Perhaps,” Lady Langley said. “But Leslie is a skilled rider.” Her eyes twinkled. “She has yet to lose a race to Lord Barnton.”

“What matters is that his lordship recovers,” Leslie said, and Evan was certain she meant the words.

“Perhaps he will want to reschedule the race for another day,” Lady Langley said.

Leslie’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Luck has not been with he and I when we have raced. It is probably better we do not tempt fate.”

“Tempt fate?” Mr. Drucker entered with Lord Robert close behind.

All eyes turned on them as they approached. They stopped near the men.

“A man who races Lady Carr does, indeed, tempt fate,” Drucker said. His eyes settled on Leslie. “Lord Barnton—how did you put it?— ‘fell from his horse?’”

Something in the man’s tone gave Evan pause. What was he up to?

“That is correct, sir,” Leslie said. “That is the assumption, considering when he passed me, his horse was dragging him.”

Drucker’s gaze bore into her. “Lord Barnton has awoken and informed us that you rammed him with your horse when he was passing you.”