Laurel Ames - Playing To Win

“Hyde Park,” they said in unison, and laughed at Tony’s familiar scowl.

Sera trotted Satin, or cantered him on some of the more open walks, in deference to Jeffers’s hack, which was beginning to blow. When she could make out Tony’s approaching form, she made for the woods. Jeffers, now used to the game of tag between the trees and shrubs, managed to keep her in sight, but it was the last they saw of Tony. Sera brought them out again on Park Lane and trotted quite sedately the whole way home to Marsham Street.

Their mounts were quite cool by the time they returned, and the undergroom received them into his charge with satisfaction. He had thought Lady Cairnbrooke would be a match for the red brute. Of his master he saw nothing for half an hour. When Lord Cairnbrooke did dash into the yard, his gray was flecked with foam, and Dillon looked on his master with disfavor when he realized how long it would take him to properly cool the animal.

“My wife and Jeffers?”

“Back this half hour, m’lord.”

“And safe?”

“Of course,” Dillon said matter-of-factly.

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