He leaned his head back against the squabs and sighed. Speaking of precautions was not something he would do while she still had her list. “No, I believe I am mistaken.”
Even in the darkened carriage, he could just make out her lips moving upwards in a smile.
TWO DAYS LATER, EMMA crept out of bed before the sun and servants rose. She had to be at the meeting place for the races before they started at dawn. Once dressed, she sneaked downstairs and out the door. Hopefully, her maid would find her note to inform Mamma that she’d gone for an early walk before calling on Susan. Her mother would have her head for not taking a footman, but Emma would deal with that later.
She settled herself into a hackney and prayed no one had seen her leave her mother’s home before dawn. Stifling a yawn, she glanced out the window as they drove toward Hyde Park. The sky lightened with pink streaks as they drew nearer. From what she remembered, the men met on the far side of the park, which should lessen the likelihood of someone seeing her.
Reviewing her plan, she’d decided that Ainsley should be the best option. Even if they had not suited, he was a perfect gentleman. He would be more than willing to fetch her dropped handkerchief if she asked. A simple yet effective ploy to get him out of the way, and then she would be able to commandeer his carriage.
The only complication would be avoiding Simon. If he saw her, then she would be done before she’d started, not unlike most of the other items on her list.
Finally, the hackney slowed to a stop. She could just make out five carriages lined up in the park. She wished she had paid more attention last year as to how they started. Was it a specific time? Did a person flag them to start? Blast! She should have asked Ainsley when she’d had the chance.
After paying the driver, she strolled down the path as if she did this every morning at sunrise. Why did all the curricles look the same with their black color and lack of distinguishing marks? How could she determine which was Ainsley’s?
“Miss Drake,” Mr. Stanton said with a nod and a smile. “Did you come to see us off?”
“Good morning, Mr. Stanton. Where might I find Lord Ainsley?”
Stanton frowned. “I believe he is right over there.” Stanton pointed toward the second curricle lined up. “Is there something I can help you with?”
She batted her lashes at him with a coy smile. “No, thank you, Mr. Stanton. I need to wish Ainsley the best of luck before the race begins.”
Spying Ainsley, she headed toward his curricle. As she approached, she caught his attention and then dropped her handkerchief carelessly. “Oh my!”
“Miss Drake?” Ainsley said as he walked around the horses.
“I dropped my handkerchief, my lord. Will you pick it up for me? It’s starting to blow away.” Again, she fluttered her eyelashes at him and gave him an innocent look. “I should hate to lose it while I watch you all drive off.”
“Of course.” Ainsley chased after the cloth while Emma strode toward his carriage. She knew they started near sunrise, which left her only a minute or two to get up into the carriage and take the reins.
“Come along, men. We have a race to run!” Stanton shouted out. “Last man to The Cocks buys the ale!”
Emma picked her skirts up to her knees and ran to Ainsley’s carriage. She was determined to get the horses moving before he returned with her handkerchief. How she wished she could wear trousers like the gentlemen. It would make this process so much easier. She pulled herself up into the driver’s position before stealing a glance back.
Ainsley was running toward the curricle and shouting to another man.
She grabbed the reins and then flicked horses to a start. As they turned a tight corner, she felt sure she might topple over. This was so much different than two times their groom had let her drive slowly through the country lanes of Cornwall. Those horses were old and slow. Ainsley’s horses must have been bred to race.
Her heart pounded as she tried to keep the curricle at a manageable speed. The curricle only had two wheels, making her feel as if it would tumble over with every turn. She bounced on the padded bench stifling a curse. She would be bruised tomorrow.
“Focus,” she said aloud. These horses required every bit of her attention and strength.
“Miss Drake! Stop!”
Hearing Simon’s voice, she urged the horses faster. That blasted man ruined every one of her plans.
As she pulled out in front of the other men, she realized a fatal flaw in her plan. She had no idea where they raced. Where the bloody hell was The Cocks? Having no other choice, she continued north, hoping that they headed toward St. Albans as it was the most logical choice of destination based on this location. Not too far from London but with good roads.
The horses kicked up dust, causing her to cough as she fought to control them. Susan’s words reverberated in her mind. “You will surely die in a driving a carriage.”
“No!” Emma knew she could do this.
“Miss Drake, slow down before you have an accident.”
She glanced back quickly, terrified to let her attention wander. But it only took a quick look to see both Ainsley and Simon in the same carriage behind her. The wind whipped her bonnet off her head and caused her
hair to come down from its chignon.