Free Anita Mills by Newmarket Match Page A

away suddenly, the eagerness gone from her voice as she sighed. “But I know ’tis impossible to even think such a thing.”
    She had been positively pretty then, but as the animation left her, the prettiness faded. And he felt for her keenly, sensing the emptiness of her life. “Nothing is impossible, Harry,” he told her softly. “You cannot know how—”
    “I’d not listen to this.” He reached a fingertip to still her lips even as Plimly had done when she was a child. “You can.” His eyes gleamed and he nodded as hers widened. “Yes, you can, Harry. You know, just now you were as I remember you—you were the little girl who was wont to follow me without regard to Aunt Hannah or anyone. Do you remember that girl, Harry?”
    Tears welled, threatening her composure, and her lower lip trembled as she bit back the urge to cry. His arm slid around her, drawing her closer.
    “Harry, don’t let anyone rob you of that little girl—not Hannah, not anyone. Not even Thornton.”
    She wanted to melt against the soft superfine of his coat, to bury her head against his shoulder, but she dared not. She still had his friendship, but if she ever truly unburdened herself, she risked losing even that. Resolutely she stepped back, sniffing.
    “You must think me the veriest watering pot, but—”
    “I think you half-owner to Two Harry, my dear, and as such, you should see him run.”
    “Hannah would not allow it, and Papa—”
    “They’ll never know of it.” He lifted up her chin with his knuckle. “Uncle John is not a sporting man, is he? Have you ever known him to go to the races? For a full fifty years and more he’s lived not ten miles from Newmarket, and has he attended even once?”
    “Never,” she admitted.
    “If you can concoct a reason to be gone from the house, I intend to see that you are there, Harry. We’ll swathe you in veils like a mourning Saracen if we have to, but you are going to see Two Harry run.”
    “No one is like to recognize me—I have not gone about much.” In spite of the impossibility of what he was suggesting, she found herself smiling tremulously. “Indeed, I can think of none of Papa’s friends who would even be there—unless ’tis Squire March.”
    “We’ll keep you within my carriage. Even if your presence occasions comment, none will know your identity,” he promised. “ ’Twill be said you are my mysterious lady.”
    “Oh, do you think I could?” Hope rose and then was dashed. “But I have not the least excuse. Hannah does not allow me to go anywhere unattended, and as she does not go anywhere, we both stay at home.”
    “Visit someone—tell her you are paying a call on someone she mislikes. That should not be so difficult, should it? I cannot imagine that she likes everyone.”
    “No … no, of course not. Indeed, for all that she has positively thrown me at Edwin’s head, she cannot abide Mrs. Thornton—says she is an encroaching fool even.” And as she said it, she brightened. “Indeed, it could not be thought the least strange that I should wish to visit my future mama-in-law, could it?”
    “Not in the least.”
    “And Hannah would not wish to go, I am certain of it.”
    “I have never known Aunt Hannah to do anything she does not wish to,” he agreed readily. “Then ’tis settled—you are going to Newmarket, Harry.”
    “But what if she makes me take my maid? Mary would tell, and we should both be in the basket.”
    “If you would go, you have but to leave that to me. There is something to be said for being Sherborne, after all—Hannah Rowe takes pride in the connection.”
    “If you would do this for me, I should be grateful to you until my last breath. Oh, Richard! I will not believe it until I am there!”
    Two Harry, seemingly bemused by the excitement in her voice, stretched his neck, nudging her. And for answer, she leaned closer, nuzzling his long nose with her cheek. She had a racehorse, and she was going to see him run.
    “I think