Read Online Rexanne Becnel by The Matchmaker-1 - Free Book Online Page A

been celibate since his return from the war: There had been women enough willing to pleasure the young heir to Woodford, and he’d been willing to use them. But that lust had been much like his drinking: he’d take whatever was available to slake his thirst.
    What he felt for Olivia Byrde was somehow different. He wanted the same thing from her that he’d wanted from all the others: her pale body naked and eager for his. But he wanted her in particular. Not just any available woman, but her.
    A breeze blew warm and fragrant in his face. Perhaps he wanted her because she’d made it clear just how much she disliked him. He’d never before had to work to gain a woman’s interest. Maybe that was the attraction she held, a challenge to be met and overcome. She was a smart, opinionated beauty, the like he’d never known. Yes, she’d roused a mighty lust in him. He felt it still.
    He had to keep his wits about him, though. He had to remember his reason for coming to Doncaster in the first place, and that reason was the primary source of his problem. Like him Miss Olivia Byrde was a guest of the Cummingses. It followed that they were bound to be thrown in one another’s paths. If he behaved civilly, he had every reason to hope she would do the same. He’d come to Doncaster to sell horses and run races, and hopefully that purpose would not be subverted.
    But he had another purpose now as well. He needed to ingratiate himself with her mother, and to do that he must somehow make amends with the daughter. Though he’d enjoyed the stunned look on her face after his parting words to her this morning, they’d been impulsive—and unwise. That she’d roused his ire with her contemptuous dismissal of him was no excuse. In the future he would have to restrain himself better. That was unfortunate, considering that the last thing he felt toward Miss Olivia Byrde was restraint.
    Frustrated by this new complication, Neville shoved his hands in his pockets and scowled down at his boots. He was
no good at moving about in proper society anymore. He should have stayed at Woodford Court, far from the social circles he’d abandoned four years ago. There he could drink himself into oblivion every night and not care whom he insulted with his crude manner.
    But Woodford Court was in dire straits and its people relied on him to improve their lives. It was the one thing that kept him going. He’d failed everyone else in his life, but the people of Kelso still needed him, and he was terrified of failing them too. That’s why he’d ventured down to the races at Doncaster with its large purses and so many wealthy nabobs in attendance. Success with the stables was the fastest way to accumulate the funds he needed to increase the productivity of his people. And putting the fallow fields of Byrde Manor to good use was the surest way to keep them productive.
    “I’ve saddled Robin for you,” Bart said, coming up behind him. “I’ll bring Kitti around shortly.”
    Neville turned to his trainer and took the reins of the spirited bay gelding. “Good. Good,” he repeated. “Today the trial runs. Tomorrow the first of the races.”
    But tonight … tonight would be his trial run, his first test. For Miss Byrde and her mother were certain to attend the reception and ball the Cummingses had planned to kick off the week of festivities at Doncaster. He could either continue to act like the crude oaf he was, or he could call on the manners his own mother had so long ago drummed into him and behave as he knew he should. For that, however, he might have to swear off drinking, and the very thought chilled him.
    “Business first,” he muttered. “You can drink yourself blind once you return home.”
    “What’s that?” Bart said, coming out of the stables leading the racehorse.
    “Nothing. Just … Just a prayer. For success,” he added, knowing his devout trainer would approve.
    “Aye, a prayer for success for our noble Kitti,” Bart said,