However, she quickly recalled where they were and pushed him away from her. “How dare you?” she spat. “You think it’s all right to just take what you want when it’s convenient for you?” She shook her head. “I’m not one of your paramours you can enjoy whenever it suits you, Conor. I deserve more than that. And honestly, so do you, but you’re just too stubborn to realize it.”
She started to stalk away, but his softly spoken words gave her pause and made her heart stutter in her chest. “I was married once.”
Delilah slowly turned back to him, but said nothing, merely waited for him to continue.
His eyes were clear and full of such pain that she didn’t doubt he spoke the truth when he said, “Her name was Maeve. She died in the birthing bed along with our son. He would have been four.”
Delilah’s spirit deflated and she found it difficult to draw a full breath. Finally, she said quietly, “I’m so sorry, Conor.”
He narrowed his gaze slightly. “Do ye understand now why I can’t marry again? Why I can’t let myself… love again? I’m not sure I could survive knowing that I killed you too.”
Her eyes misted with tears. “My God, Conor, is that what you think?” She returned to his side and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “You can’t blame yourself for their deaths. It’s nothing you could have prevented. Life can be unfair sometimes, but that doesn’t make it your fault. It’s just something that happens.”
“Aye. And a chance I’ll not take again.”
His tone was so adamant, so unyielding, that her heart broke, for any slight bit of hope that she might have had faded away. But at least now she understood why he refused to take the most dangerous risk of all. “I feel sorry for you, Conor, I really do, because you will always hold a part of yourself back. You’ll never know what could have been because of what you refuse to let go. If you could only forgive yourself, to release that guilt you are clinging to so harshly, you might find that life is willing to give you a second chance, if only you will do the same.”
Conor said nothing and since Delilah had nothing further to say to convince him, she turned and walked away, knowing that she wouldn’t see him again.
Once the race was over, so would be whatever they had shared.
When she rejoined Francesca, she shook her head before her friend could even ask what he’d said, afraid that she would expose her true feelings for one and all, and that was something she couldn’t do.
As the competitors took their positions a short time later, Delilah tried not to keep her focus fully on Conor, but it was difficult not to keep her gaze from straying in that direction. When the gun was sounded to signal the beginning of the race, the deafening sound of cheers and waving handkerchiefs in the air added to the thrill on the track. Each pair of horses took off with a thunderous gallop, kicking up a cloud of dust as all twelve competitors in four teams of three headed out, eager to win. She didn’t miss the fact that Conor had a fine pair of Arabians that Hercules had fathered, nor that their glossy coats shone with a healthy gleam. Their powerful forelegs easily covered the ground and swiftly took the lead with the same confidence of the man driving them forward.
She had to grudgingly admit that he handled the mounts with a careful precision. She always imagined that he was reckless, but in truth, he had a particular skill with the animals. He easily maneuvered the turn that led to the longer course. When they reached the end of the track, they were supposed to turn around and reverse course and return to where they had begun, when the victorious team would be crowned. Thus far, everything had gone smoothly, and Delilah sent up a prayer that it would continue to be so.
And that Conor would at least keep his promise that he was done racing and taking such unnecessary risks.
“I daresay that Irishman is proficient with those ribbons,” one of the men said from behind her.
“Indeed,” his companion agreed. “I made the right decision placing my bet on him.”
Delilah could only roll her eyes. No doubt there was a lot of money being exchanged that day, for while the race itself was for charity, there was always going to be someone out to make a profit off another.
“Well, blast. There goes my wager,” another man grumbled.
Delilah didn’t have the time to scold him for his insensitivity. Instead, she turned toward the track as if in slow motion. Several chariots were on the return, but while she couldn’t clearly see for the dust that was being kicked up, she saw enough.
Time seemed to slow and stretch out. The anxious whinny of a horse as it either injured its foreleg or threw a shoe, was followed by the sickening crack of a carriage wheel. Splinters were instantly thrown into the air as the chariot went careening forward, and a figure in green was ejected outward to land in a nearby ditch.
Delilah’s heart stopped, tears frozen in her eyes as she imagined it was Conor who was lying there motionless while the rest of the chariots kept their pace, not realizing the danger they were about to come upon, the peril that could prove deadly
Thrusting aside all thoughts of her safety, Delilah rushed forward onto the track, ignoring the desperate cries of her name being called after her. She tore off a section of her dress and ran toward the wreckage and began waving her arms and screaming at the other racers to warn them of the danger, praying that they would see her in enough time to avoid the accident.
Terror shot through her as the hooves coming at her at breakneck speed thundered down the track toward her, but when she began to hear the cries of protest coming from the animals, she knew that the riders understood the danger. Without waiting any longer, she headed for the injured man in green, a short surge of relief coursing through her when she saw that the man had brown hair instead of midnight black. But then, when it occurred to her that it was Adam, the man Francesca secretly pined for, she immediately knelt at his side.
“Adam?” She laid a hand on his forehead, which was caked with dirt from his fall. “It’s Delilah. Can you hear me?”
His eyelids fluttered, and a groan escaped his lips, so at least she knew he was alive.
She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. They flew open when she felt a strong, comforting hand on her shoulder. She glanced over to see Conor crouched down beside her. His face was grim. “The doctor is on his way.”
She nodded but couldn’t seem to reply as a man rushed forward and began to examine Adam.
“Oh, my God. Adam…” It was Francesca’s voice that shook Delilah out of her shock, for she immediately rose and embraced her friend, whose expression had turned deathly pale. “Is he—?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Delilah shook her head. “He’s alive.”
Francesca was so grateful that her knees gave out beneath her as she burst into tears. Delilah caught her before she hit the ground, but it was the viscount himself, Francesca’s father, who lifted his distraught daughter into his arms.
Whether it was the distress of the moment or her own yearnings causing her to speak boldly, Delilah said, “She loves Adam, you know.” Viscount Mulberry glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “And he feels the same about her.”
The only reply he gave was a curt nod as he turned on his heel.
“Delilah!” Her father interceded in that moment and gathered her up in his arms. “What were you thinking of to run into the fray like that? You could have been killed!”
“She wasn’t thinking of herself,” a deep voice said from behind her. She turned to see Conor looking at her intently. “And you can thank her for saving Adam’s life. If she hadn’t dared to act when she had, waving that scrap of her dress to get the driver’s attention, he might not be with us. As it stands, the doctor thinks he will make a full recovery with some care and rest.”
The baron straightened. “You don’t have to tell me how special my daughter is. I already knew that.” He placed his arm around her shoulders as a crowd had started to gather around them, curious now that the initial danger had passed. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
Delilah looked at Conor one last time and nodded. “I believe you’re right, Papa.”