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Chapter 20

The day was exceedingly fine with sunny skies and a light breeze. Emily leaned down to let the knee-high silky grass brush under her palms. Cedric and Charles walked on either side of her, carrying on a conversation while Emily listened. Penelope, not tethered by a leash, moved about several yards ahead. The small puppy worked to jump through grass, a good five inches above her head. Emily smiled at the pup's black nose trained to the ground. She sniffed and then bounded over the grass only to resume sniffing again.

"So then," said Cedric, "I said to the sheikh, 'Bet you eight hundred pounds I can win this hand,' and the sheikh, the haughty bastard, replied, 'Let us make the wager on something more valuable. How would a pair of Arabian mares suit you?' And I told him I would accept that wager."

"Are these the mares you mean to breed with Anne Chessley's stallion?"

"The very pair!" Cedric laughed.

"You won the horses from the sheikh then?" Emily asked in amazement. "Wasn't he angry?
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