“Damn it all!” the Duke of Dorset, Steward of the Jockey Club, had said to him only a fortnight before, “I cannot imagine where you buy your horses, Melsonby. I have my men watching the Sale Rooms every month and yet I cannot purchase a pair, let alone a four, to equal yours.”
“I do not rely on Sale Rooms,” the Marquis had answered.
“Then how – ” the Duke began, only to be told by the Marquis with twinkling eyes,
“I am not giving away all my secrets!”
The freshness of his team needed the Marquis’s concentrated attention for the first two miles. Then, when they had settled into a good steady stride, he looked down at Perdita with a smile.
“You are very quiet.”
“I was watching you,” she answered. “You drive magnificently, my Lord.”
“And you are a good judge?” the Marquis teased her.
