The Romany Heiress by Nikki Poppen Page A

it would be an exceedingly clumsy affair dancing
attendance, no humor intended, on his supposed cousin
and the jealous Candice.
    “Cecile is right, you simply must have it.” Giles confirmed, reaching to hand the vendor the required coins.
    “No, I couldn’t possibly accept it!” Cate protested.
“The soap is gift enough.”
    Was that the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks?
She’d been remarkably self-assured the entire afternoon, even in the wake of Candice’s put-down. Giles exerted his considerable charm. “I will brook no refusal
on this, dear cousin. Soap will eventually melt away but
ribbon will last longer as a memento” He was conscious of the hard stare Candice gave him, but he did not waver
his gaze from Cate to return it.

    They approached the line of horse stalls, and Giles
felt the tension growing on both sides of him; Candice
waiting for the right opportunity to pounce, and Cate
waiting to strike back. They’d become predatory animals, each stalking the other, and Giles didn’t like the
sensation it raised in him. He was quite aware that he
was the prize in this hunt.
    “I think either the sorrel mare or this brown are your
best choices,” Alain told his wife. “Was there another
horse that caught your eye?” He asked when Cecile
didn’t immediately respond.
    “What about that one?” Cecile pointed to a chestnut
gelding further down the line. The horse was stocky,
maybe fourteen hands high, not much bigger than a pony,
with a broad chest. His smaller size was thoroughly pronounced against the larger stature of the other horses surrounding him. Additionally, his face looked forlorn, and
when he turned his big brown horsey eyes their direction,
Alain groaned.
    “You are too softhearted, my dear. That horse is appealing to your emotions.” Nonetheless, the group moved
towards the gelding to take a closer look. Alain grabbed
the bridle and pulled back the horse’s lips to see his teeth
while Tristan checked the legs.
    “Cecile, darling,” Candice gave a superior drawl
while the men looked over the horse. “You can’t possibly
want this one. It’s docile enough because it’s practically
dead. The others are much better choices. They’ve been bred to be a lady’s mount. This one has fallen into it simply by accident.”

    Giles barely suppressed a moan. Of the group, Cecile knew the least about horseflesh on account that
she’d been raised by a poor violin maker in France before meeting Alain. Riding and horses was something
very new to her since their marriage. Candice had made
Cecile’s ignorance very clear with her thoughtless comment. If she wasn’t careful, Alain would take her head
off without compunction.
    Cate stirred at his side. That was unless Cate got to her
first. Cate stepped forward and studied the horse close
up, bending to run a hand across the width of its chest.
    “I suppose if your heart is set on it,” Alain began, returning to Cecile’s side. “There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with the horse”
    “Nothing wrong!” Candice exclaimed. “Wickham,
you must persuade her to purchase a different mount. It
is not at all suitable.”
    Giles cringed, not bothering to hide his disapproval
of Candice’s conduct. His friends were right, he would
do well to sever his relationship with her now that she’d
shown her true colors.
    Cate straightened from her inspection, which had
moved to the horse’s withers. “Baron Wickham is right.
There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with the horse.”
She ducked under the rope in fluid motion and took up
her spot on Giles’s left. “However, I think the price is
too much. You would do better to buy the horse after the
races when the day is winding down and the vendors are more keen to sell. If the horse is not worth it, the price
will come down. If the horse is quality, the price may go
up. It’s a risk but at least if the price goes up, you’ll
know the horse is worth