Aurora pulled up, laughing, while Raven did likewise.
"Well done!" the younger woman exclaimed, a trifle breathless. "I felt sure we would win this time."
As they turned back, Cronos was still snorting and dancing with excitement, almost preening at his victory, while Satan shook his head at his rider's firm hold, wanting to set off again.
Murmuring praise, Aurora patted her horse's dappled silver-and-gray neck. "He is most assuredly in high spirits today."
"I suppose that could explain our loss. But I might simply have to admit that you are the better horsewoman."
"I wouldn't give up yet," Aurora said with a smile. "You nearly had us until the very last."
"Oh, I have no intention of giving up," Raven retorted with a grin. "Someday you will eat our dust."
"Perhaps so."
Even though they adopted a far more sedate pace as they retraced their steps along the sandy avenue called Rotten Row, Aurora shared her mount's high spirits. She loved racing the wind on a swift horse – the exhilarating freedom, the excitement of competing and besting a worthy opponent, the sense of power when controlling the mighty animal beneath her, straining as one. The sheer joy of it made her blood sing.
The quiet of early morning in Hyde Park was by far the best part of her day. At present the paths were dedicated to serious horsemen and women, with none of the dandies or stylish ladies in elegant equipages that would congest the park later at the fashionable hour of five.
A fine mist hovered over the Serpentine lake, the dampness glistening on the wide stretches of grass and dripping from the trees that lined the path. By mid-morning when the mist cleared, the park would be filled with nannies supervising their young charges or rambunctious boys frolicking with their dogs, but at this hour, there were only dedicated riders about.
No sooner had she entertained that thought than Aurora saw a blue-coated horseman cantering toward them. Recognizing those broad shoulders even from a distance, she straightened abruptly in her sidesaddle, while her heart took up an erratic rhythm. It had been two days since Nicholas had left the privacy of her bedchamber after his outrageous invasion. Two days during which she had worried about his fate and fretted about his plans regarding their marriage. It vexed her that she'd received no word from him – and vexed her more that he had occupied her thoughts so intensely.
When he reached them, Nicholas slowed to a halt and gave a polite bow. He looked splendid in his exquisitely tailored blue coat and buff breeches and gleaming top boots, the picture of a fashionable gentleman. His eyes, however, glinted with wicked amusement.
"Good morning, ladies. May I compliment you on an excellent race?"
Aurora felt her face warm with color. She was embarrassed to have been caught galloping like a hoyden, especially by this man. Not only had she failed to ensure his sister behaved with decorum, but she'd exhibited precisely the same recklessness she claimed to deplore in Nicholas.
Raven had no such scruples about her conduct, though. "It was splendid, wasn't it? Aurora has the most magnificent horses, and she is an angel to let me use them as my own."
"An angel, indeed," Nicholas agreed, his gaze connecting intimately with Aurora's.
When his gaze moved with raking leisure over her dark plum riding habit, she felt her flush rise even higher at the appreciative male interest in his eyes. She was grateful when Raven's groom came trotting up just then, accompanied by her own.
Not by a flicker of an eyelash did the hulking Irishman O'Malley show any recognition of Nicholas. But then Raven had said they'd already met and determined how best to carry out the pretense of Nicholas's impersonation.
As a group, they continued riding down the Row, the two grooms maintaining a discreet distance behind. In keeping with the deception, Raven asked "Mr. Deverill" how he was finding London. And he responded with an amusing but impersonal account of how the wrong baggage had been delivered to his hotel rooms and that he'd been forced to complain to management that the walking dresses were not at all his size.
Aurora thought it fortunate that brother and sister could laugh and converse so easily, for it hid the fact that she herself was dismayingly tongue-tied.
A moment later, however, some other riders caught Raven's attention. In the distance two young ladies were directing their horses onto a narrower path through the grass.
"There are Sarah and Jane," Raven said rather abruptly.
"Forgive me, Aurora, but I must go speak to them." She gave Nicholas a conspiratorial glance. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mr. Deverill."
Nicholas tipped his tall beaver hat. "And you, Miss Kendrick."
She turned her horse away, and O'Malley automatically followed, trailing her like a shadow. Aurora could think of no immediate objection to her leaving; there was nothing exceptional in Raven wanting to speak to her friends. Still, Aurora was disconcerted to be left alone with Nicholas. Her own groom was several lengths behind, she realized, glancing over her shoulder.
"She's determined to provide us the opportunity to be alone," Nicholas commented dryly, as if reading her thoughts.
"I cannot imagine why."
"Can you not? Raven considers it romantic that our love has been thwarted and wants us to remedy the situation."
Aurora gave him a quizzical glance. "Raven is not in the least romantic."