Epilogue

“When did you know Asad was going to win the St. Leger, your Lordship?”

“Was it your intention to have Asad save his energy for the final sprint with Liverpool Lad?”

“Was it your or Mr. Mubarak’s idea to have the jockey slow him down heading into the final turn?”

Christian finally halted, pivoting to address the flock of reporters who trailed behind them, their questions like squawks from determined seagulls. Leveling them with a firm look until they quieted, he said, “It was Lady Amstead’s idea to have David, our rider, slow Asad leading into the top of the stretch. She wisely guessed that glimpsing his opponent would spur his competitive spirit.”

Eight pairs of eyes slid to Flora, who stood at his side, her bearing regal and her cheeks flushed. She looked at him askance before slowly smiling at the newspaper reporters.

“Asad enjoys running, but”—she paused dramatically, her voice dropping to a whisper—“he enjoys winning more.”

The reporters laughed in unison and soon the men were peppering Flora with questions about the race, training Asad, and even her marriage to Christian. She responded to their inquiries like a seasoned professional with an abundance of genial charm while she sidestepped personal queries and volleyed rejoinders with clever witticisms.

He finally stepped back, reassured that she had the situation well in hand. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her, pride and love for his new wife warming him better than even the excitement and awe he’d felt when Asad crossed the finish line five lengths ahead of Liverpool Lad.

They had wed by special license several days before in front of their families and friends, including Cedric, who had not decided yet whether or not he intended to return to the Continent. But watching his brother laugh and jest with Flora at the wedding breakfast had made Christian hope that perhaps his wayward brother had found the promise of family a tempting reason to stay.

Flora insisted on being present for the settlements discussion, and Niall had consented with only a weak protest. Christian was vastly amused…and even a bit aroused…as he observed Flora review the paperwork and request changes to various parts with the deft hand of a solicitor. At the conclusion of the meeting, she had grasped his hand across the table and shaken it, her dimples winking as she said, “It was a pleasure doing business with you, my lord. I find that I am now comfortable becoming your wife.” While Inverray had grumbled under his breath, Christian had leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. “I would have agreed to anything you asked.”

She had nodded her head knowingly, an impish smile on her pretty lips. “Oh, I’m well aware.”

Now, Christian watched her invite Baniti to her side to answer training questions, and he smiled. If she asked, he would give her the world.

“Like a queen before her court,” Lord Inverray said as he sauntered up, a fond look softening his face as he studied his sister. “She has them tripping over themselves for her approval.”

“I don’t blame them,” Christian said, “for her approval is a heady thing.”

As if she could hear him, Flora looked over her shoulder at him and winked—but then promptly returned her attentions to her audience.

Cedric and the Duke and Duchess of Ashwood joined them, and the group observed in amusement while Flora explained the plans to expand the training facilities at Amstead Gardens. They intended to open their training regimen to other horse owners, for a fee, of course.

“It’s as though she was meant to do this,” Juliana, the duchess, said with admiration in her voice.

“Because she was.” Inverray bumped her with his shoulder as he shared a smirk with Ashwood. “Pity I didn’t realize it sooner, or I would have asked her to give my speeches in Parliament.”

“I can only imagine the havoc she’d wreak if she could take a seat in the Commons,” the duke said on a chuckle.

“Or the positive changes she’d fight for,” Cedric added, with a small smile.

“Her ladyship is doing exactly what she was meant to.” The foursome grew silent at Christian’s sharp tone, but promptly rolled their eyes when he grinned. “She’s training racehorses and letting me love her. Many would say she is the luckiest of ladies.”

Amidst the groans, Flora met his gaze, her green eyes sparkling. Despite his jests, Christian knew he was the lucky one.

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