The Earl's Wager Read Online Free

England, he may not have been so quick to send her away. Regardless, he’d made plans for her in his will, and she couldn’t have access to the fortune unless she was married.
    She wanted access to her funds as quickly as possible. So, her plan was to marry the oldest man she could find. He’d die soon, then, as a widowed woman, she’d have control of all her money. And from what she’d seen of old English lords so far, she’d have a good selection. If she could find one who wasn’t only old, but sickly, too, she’d have found her mark.
    Heat coursed through her body as her ire reached new heights. She wasn’t going to allow this Will Sutton to teach her anything, especially not in the art of matrimony or anything close to that.
    But before she said something she’d regret, her first priority was Harland. She couldn’t allow him to lose his job on her account. Any other trainer wouldn’t have allowed her to train and learn from him; working with him and the horses had been her greatest joy since moving to England.
    “Let us move into the carriage and get you back to Autumn Ridge before someone discovers what’s happened here,” Oliver said. “I’ve spoken to the jockey, and I’ve paid him quite handsomely to keep his mouth shut. We must leave immediately before we’re discovered.”
    Georgia hadn’t thought of the consequences of her actions, only that Perseus deserved to race. He’d been training so hard. But with Harland’s employment on the line, guilt assailed her. She hurried behind Oliver and Arabella’s brother, to the carriage where her lady’s maid waited.
    Oliver opened the carriage door. Inside, Eloise practically shivered in fright.
    “And what do you have to say for yourself?” he inquired. “You allowed your mistress to change into jockey clothes.”
    “Don’t blame her, Oliver, she was doing as I bid her.”
    “Yes, I suppose she’s done her job too well.” Oliver turned his attention to Eloise. “But we must speak about how I’m the one who pays your salary, and you’re to report such…such…shenanigans to me in the future.”
    “Yes, my lord, I will, my lord. I apologize, my lord,” Eloise stammered.
    “Would you like her to help me change back into my day dress, or are you going to continue to berate her?” Georgia mentally scolded herself. She needed to keep her emotions in check if she was going to keep Harland from losing his job.
    “Am I to assume you changed into your current attire here in the carriage?”
    “Yes. Where else could I change?” Georgia asked. Instinctively, she knew it was a mistake to question him and be snide about it—she needed to rectify the situation, not inflame it further. “Perhaps, instead of changing back into my day dress, we should just get inside and go.”
    “That sounds like a splendid idea,” Lord Grandleigh spoke up.
    She shot a look at Arabella’s brother. She rather preferred it when he didn’t speak at all. It was enough handling Oliver without dealing with her self-proclaimed matchmaker as well.
    Several carriages lined the streets. People and horses bustled between the buildings, the racetrack, and the stables. The area had become a sea of varying colors and noise, from people engaging in arguments, to drunken laughing, to horses whinnying.
    “Excuse me, my lord, but people might question why a jockey was riding in the same carriage as the Earl of Marsdale, don’t you think?” Eloise inquired.
    “It’s true, they might,” Oliver said, “but let them speculate all they want. Better for them to see a jockey riding with us than for them to see one getting into the carriage and my ward, Georgia Duvall, getting out. We shall depart immediately.”
    “No one is paying attention to us,” Georgia quipped, “least of all whether a jockey gets into a carriage or not.”
    “I say, Marsdale, let me get my horse to tie on the back, and I’ll ride in the carriage with you,” Grandleigh interjected, as though Georgia