Page 75 of A Single Obsession

“Someone broke into the stables the night Jem arrived in Alton with him. By the time I got there, he was long gone.”

“No! I don’t believe it.”

The familiar ache caused by his loss hit Beau again as Anthony put a comforting arm around his shoulders, shaking his head in sympathy as the entire story came flooding out. Well, not the entire story, as Beau kept Eliza’s name out of it. He was relieved Ant didn’t enquire how he was near enough to hear the thief’s scream and was certain not to volunteer the information.

“So even if they find Romeo—which, in my opinion, seems unlikely—I’ve lost my jockey.”

Anthony let out a long sigh. “I suppose this puts you in quite a spot. If your horse doesn’t race, all our bets will be forfeit, as if he were a non-starter by choice. And you won’t be the only one to suffer from it. You convinced me he couldn’t lose and so I bet a substantial sum on him. I guess not even you can get it right all the time.”

“Don’t say that. I swear if he competed, he would win. I tell you, he’s a born racer.”

“Well, there goes your last cry for freedom. That explains why you’re marrying Eliza. At least, I suppose it is Eliza you’re planning to wed, and you didn’t fall prey to Miss Whitlow. With Romeo gone, you had no choice. You were forced into it. Only way to keep your stables going.”

“Yes, I was forced into it, but—”

Beau heard a gasp in the corridor and stopped mid-sentence. He ran to the half-open door and threw it wide.

No one was there. Whoever was listening had fled. He hurried out into the hallway with a sinking heart and was in time to see Eliza disappearing around the corner.

Beau froze where he stood. He feared he’d just made the gravest mistake of his life. Why on earth had he repeated Ant’s words when they weren’t true? Eliza had heard what he’d said and now she thought the worst of him. She had not stayed to hear any more.

He needed to explain he had not meant it. Without delay.

Pulling himself out of his stupor, he sped along the corridor, and caught sight of Eliza nearing the top of the stairs.

He called out, but she didn’t stop, and he sped after her, only to be brought up short when she disappeared into the drawing room.

His shoulders slumped with disappointment. Eliza wouldn’t let him talk to her. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. Nothing else would have sent her running to his mother’s side, where they couldn’t converse without being overheard. He would have to wait until later.

Beau dragged his feet back downstairs and returned to the billiard room, where he slumped into the nearest chair.

“Who was it?” Anthony asked.

“Eliza. To judge by her gasp and her rapid departure, I assume she heard what I said, and now she thinks I’ve been forced into marrying her to save my horses.”

“Haven’t you?”

“Yes. No. I can’t explain. I want to marry her, Ant. More than I would have believed possible a few weeks ago. She makes me believe I can be somebody—that I am somebody. What if she stops believing in me? Will she even wish to marry me still? How will I ever convince her? That I want her to be my wife because I love her?”

There. He had said it. Aloud. And he knew it was true. His affection for Eliza had grown into something so deep that if he lost her now, it would break his heart.

An expression flitted across Anthony’s face that Beau could not quite make out. Was it regret, jealousy, or just a touch of sadness?

His friend let out a long puff of breath. “That changes things.”

“If Romeo had won and I no longer needed to wed for money, I could have proved to her I wanted to marry her for the right reasons. How can I ever do that now?”

“You could try talking to her. Have you told her you love her?”

Beau winced.

Anthony closed his eyes and shook his head in despair. “You mean, you proposed to her, and you didn’t even mention the word love?”

Beau’s gaze roamed around the room, avoiding his friend’s face.

“Why is it I—who have no intention of ever getting hitched—know all the right things to do, and yet those of you who are utterly smitten with a woman, don’t seem to have a clue? Castleford was just the same. I despair. Talk to her. Tell her how you feel.”

“I can’t,” Beau said, throwing his head back so hard that it hit the top of his chair. “She would never believe me now.”