Free A Most Scandalous Proposal by Ashlyn Macnamara Page B

control. “Go on then,” he gasped. “Answer the man’s question.”
    “It all depends on the particular lady. Some prefer to walk. Others prefer carriages.”
    “Nonsense!” Ludlowe burst out. “They all take to riding eventually. Some just want lessons.”
    The corners of Upperton’s mouth twitched. Benedictquelled him with a glare. “Subtlety is wasted on the likes of you.”
    “Oh, come now, Revelstoke. One might say you’ve misplaced your sense of humor.”
    “Or one might say I prefer to wait until I’m diverted to laugh.”
    Ludlowe made another tentative move toward Nefertari’s stall. “Do you think I might …?”
    Benedict could hardly prevent him. He didn’t own Nefertari—yet. Suppressing a sigh, he stepped aside and allowed Ludlowe to pass.
    “Ah! And aren’t you a fine-looking specimen?”
    Upperton arched a brow. “Perhaps they’d like a little privacy.”
    Benedict might have been all too happy to comply with the suggestion, except he wanted to ensure Ludlowe didn’t decide to bid Nefertari out from under him, in spite of her unsuitability. “Be certain to take a good look at her knees.”
    “Delightful things, ladies’ knees,” Upperton commented. “You might want to run your hands over them.”
    Benedict sent him another glare. “If you’ve got nothing constructive to add …”
    Upperton shrugged. “Just passing the time until we can get on to something more agreeable.”
    Ludlowe stuck his head out of the stall. “Run my hands down her legs, you say? Whatever for?”
    “Remind me why all the ladies twitter over him again.”
    Benedict ignored Upperton’s dig and stepped back into the stall. Resisting the impulse to shove Ludlowe into a fresh pile of manure, he bent down and cupped his hands about the mare’s near knee. “If you know what to look for, you can see she’s in no condition for any sort of hard riding. There’s swelling in the joints. They’re warmer than they ought to be. A nice, quiet life in the country is about all that’s left in her, and youmight get a foal or two out of her once she’s had a good rest.”
    Or at least that was what Benedict was hoping to get from her.
    A jet of warm air shuddered out of Nefertari’s nostrils. Shuffling her feet in the straw, she nosed hopefully at Benedict’s pockets.
    He rubbed a hand down her bony face. “Sorry, old girl. I’m all out of carrots.”
    “Here.” Ludlowe produced a lump of sugar and held it out in his flattened palm. Nefertari shouldered Benedict aside and lipped up the offering. “Suppose I’ll be seeing you at the auction, then, Revelstoke.”

CHAPTER SIX
     
    J ULIA PRESSED her fingers to her temples, but the pounding in her head was relentless. The air in the crowded room weighed on her. If only she hadn’t chosen to sit in the middle of the row. Boxed in between Sophia and their mother, she could not escape easily. Henrietta Upperton’s rendition of “Believe Me, if All Those Endearing Young Charms” was not helping matters, nor was her younger sister’s accompaniment.
    The poor girl’s voice squeaked on the final note. She cut it blessedly short, while a blush crept up her cheeks. After a few moments’ awkward silence, a scattering of polite applause broke out.
    Julia nudged her sister. “Pardon me.”
    Sophia remained in place, her gaze fixed on the matron seated directly in front of her.
    “What’s the matter with you?” Julia whispered in her ear.
    Sophia gave a start and turned a vague glance on Julia. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
    “I was just remarking on Miss Upperton’s lovely voice. Don’t you agree?”
    Sophia nodded, the golden ringlets brushing the sides of her face. “Oh yes, quite.”
    Julia wrapped her fingers about Sophia’s upper arm and tugged.
    Sophia blinked at her. “Oh, is it over?”
    “Of course not, but I cannot stand another butchered rendition of Mozart, and you’re obviously off in your own little world.”
    With a quick