When Robert had left his office for home, he had thought Captain Asher's shocking appearance was the only thing he would have to deal with. The thing was, he thought wrong. You see, he was just having a normal brunch with his family, warm afternoon light seeping through the tall glass windows of the family dining. The Duke was in attendance and they had a guest. He was the Duke's racer for the upcoming royal race.

"So glad you could make it, Mr Edward," Robert's father smiled his business smile. He never smiled genuinely. Either it was for a business partner, or for some high society cock sucker who he wanted to impress.

Mr Edward, the horse racer smiled, black eyes beaming. "I'm the one who is the gladdest. I consider it the highest of honours to be seated here with your wonderful family and having brunch."

"Apparently, some of us were forced to attend," Grace muttered under her breath. Robert glanced at her. Oh, dear. She looked a bit pale and he believed his mother noticed this because of the way she kept scrutinizing her with her cerulean eyes.

She was still worried about Arthur it seemed. Why couldn't she get that bloody lad out of her head? What sort of madness was this? This thing she felt... What was it? Robert couldn't understand how a single person could make one feel so worried. He had never felt so troubled about any of his bedmates. After all, he loved them but didn't act like this when they told him they would never see him again. In fact, those words made him the happiest.

"This is my son," the Duke hesitated, eyes hard on Robert, "Robert Stark."

"A pleasure to finally see the man everyone in London has been talking about," Edward said.

"What have they been saying about him?" The Duke chipped in.

"For most, they've been talking about his moon lamp," Edward explained. "I find it quite formidable indeed."

"For less, what have they been talking about?" His father questioned. Robert knew where this was leading to. This old cabbage!

"Your Grace," The Duchess gave her husband a warning stare.

"I'm just curious."

Robert blew out air. How long was he going to endure this torture? He would have to wait a bit longer. Soon enough, he would make the moon lamp and his father would kill to spend time with him.

While he was about to take a sip of water, heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. And in ample time, a footman in blue rushed in, breathing heavily like a dog. The Duke frowned at this unusual occurrence and raised a brow expecting a reasonable explanation.

"There's-there's a boy outside," the footman said in-between breaths.

"A boy?" Father said sounding as if the word 'boy' was the most disgusting thing he had heard.

"Yes my Lord. He says he's the stables manager's son. Goes by the name, Arthur."

Fucking shite. Robert glimpsed at his sister who at the moment looked like her entire life flashed before her eyes. What on earth was that scallywag up to? Robert did remember Arthur saying he was going to do whatever it takes to show Grace how much of a man he was. Was that idiot going to propose?

Oh no, Robert thought. If he were ever to do that, their parents would know about the two of them and then-oh, the things they would do to his dear sister.

"We don't care who he is. Don't let him in," Robert said, hoping both his father shares the same thought.

"We tried to but he's quite rebellious. He claims to jump off the roof if we don't let him see you," the footman added, petrification stamped on his face.

"Let him in," The Duke said.

"What?" The Duchess questioned. "We have a guest, remember?"

"And another who wants to jump off my roof if I don't answer him. I wouldn't want blood on my hands and definitely not on my land."

This was going to be bad. Robert looked at his sister again. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Only dear God knew what was going on in her mind. Robert wouldn't let this tiny imp ruin his sister with his stupid declaration of love. Whatever this was leading to, he would protect her.

The footman scurried out of the dining and in mere seconds came back with Arthur. Robert didn't get to see him well that night but in daylight, he could tell why his sister was so infatuated with him. He was handsome, probably besting him in looks. His jaw was etched sharp, dark eyes as black as a raven and skin as smooth as silk. He was tall, the footman's head at the same level as his shoulders. The stable boy was dressed in what Robert considered to be his finest tailcoat. Though there were a few patches of different colours on the blue material.

"Your Graces, My Lord, My Lady, Mr Edward," Arthur greeted with a bow.

"I hear you want to jump off my roof, child." The Duke sounded calm but enraged at the same time. Robert didn't know how he managed to pull that off.

Arthur glanced at Grace and she blushed. Thankfully, no one in the room noticed it except Robert.

"That was before I was let in, Your Grace."

"What do you want so desperately that you're willing to kill yourself for?"

This was it. This was the bloody moment where all would be ruined. Robert didn't know whether to pounce on the chap before he made matters worse. But seeing the look on his sister's face, he knew what to do. He had to wait. She didn't look so bothered as she did earlier.

Maybe she thought he wouldn't do anything as ridiculous as proposing to her when he had no proper means to take care of her. After all, he wanted to show her she was worthy of him. And that wasn't by proposing.

Arthur stood straight, chest out, hands behind his back. "I wish to challenge Mr Edward Conrad to a race. Whoever wins shall get to race for you in the royal derby."

Edward chuckled like what Arthur said was the silliest thing ever.

"And what would make you think you will win me?"

"I don't think I would win. I know I will." Robert had never heard so much confidence in a word. Except when he told his women he would bed them. And he never fails on his promise. Meanwhile, Grace was blushing deeply again. Probably because this time her man was brave enough to stand before the great Lord Stark the fourth. Not many could do that.

"I've not even granted you the permission and you're already gloating about how you will beat the best racer in London," The Duke said.

"Maybe you don't scold your workers enough, Your Grace," Edward said with a chuckle. But by the time he saw Lord Stark's hard icy stare, he seized smiling. Apparently, he had hit a nerve. In all his years as the Duke's son, Robert had learnt one major thing-never challenge the Duke's abilities. One time, he sacked the butler because he told the Duke he didn't tie his shoes properly.

"Do you have your riding shoes with you now?" He asked, rising from the golden seat.

Arthur's jaw dropped. So did everyone's. Lord Stark was truly letting a stable boy race against a man who was the best horse racer in London.

"Your Grace, you would let this stable boy race me?" Edward asked, frowning.

"Indeed."

"Why would you let that happen?"

"Maybe you don't scold your mouth enough." The Duke smirked.

Robert held a fist to his mouth, trying his best not to burst out into laughter. Grace was grinning from ear to ear and Arthur was beaming like the Queen just asked him for tea.

"And if you win the race against Edward. I'll give you an advance which is double the payment I was meant to give him," Lord Stark added, locking eyes with Arthur.

That was more than enough to change Arthur's life. If he did win this race against Edward, he would be rich enough to own a townhouse and still have lots of money left. Even if the Duke didn't give Arthur the advance, winning a Royal derby or even participating in it would give him a good profit. But now he has an advance on the table- bloody hell! All Arthur had to do was win.

"Y-your Grace," Arthur's mouth was still ajar, "this means a lot to me."

"Well, let's all go to the stables, shall we?" The Duke spread out his arms.

"To do what, Your Grace?" Edward asked, completely oblivious to the situation like a senseless baboon.

"You're going to race him, Edward. Now."

"N-now? I don't even have my racing boots."

"We have enough in the stables, Mr Edward," Lord Stark assured. "You're not afraid, are you? After all, you're the best horse rider in London."

"Of course not, Your Grace." Edward raised his head high. "I would win this race."

"I expect you to," That was all he said as he walked out of the room. The Duchess went after, a hand over her forehead. Such drama could be tiring to the brain. Robert was left alone with his sister and Arthur. No matter how hard they both tried to hide it, he could see a strong affection threading them together.

Arthur was about to race London's best and he didn't seem to have an atom of fear in his eyes. He should be shaking in his boots now. Though the Duke never told anyone what he would do if Arthur lost, it was evident what would be this case if that ever happened. Arthur's father may very well lose his job.

As Robert stood in the middle of the two love birds, he finally concluded; love could make people do stupid things. He wasn't sure he would ever want to feel this kind of love. It would make him weak and vulnerable. He preferred the love he shared with those women where he would not have to be held accountable to any of them.

"My Lady," Arthur bowed so gracefully you'll think he was a prince all his life

"Mr Arthur," She smiled, giving him a curt nod, cheeks deepening red. Oh, kiss already would you! Robert thought, rolling his eyes.

"Well, lads," He raised a brow. "We wouldn't want to keep the horses waiting would we?"

The countryside view of the estate was lavished with lush dense forests and green plains that spread to indefinite acres, the sunlight dancing in nature's beautiful greenery. Robert breathed in the fresh country air before he walked into the stable. Horses lined both sides of the wooden structure, hay dispersed on the sandy floor.

At the corner was Arthur slipping into his racing outfit, his mane of dark hair letting some curls dance before his forehead. Something about his athleticism reminded him of Asher Newman's impressive physique.

"Arthur," Robert strolled to him.

He was startled, springing to the floor with an incompletely worn boot, "My Lord."

"Please," he gestured to the stool Arthur was formally seating on, "Have a seat."

Arthur complied. When Robert set a knee on the ground to help him with his shoe, he nearly fell off his seat.

"My Lord!" His eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, I was about to bend down and eat all this hay," He rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to help you with your boot, chap."

"You're a Marquess, you-"

"Shh," Robert held a finger over his lip.

If his sister loved this boy so much, it wouldn't hurt a fly if he did something good for him. He helped him slip his boot and stood straight, clearing his throat.

"Why are you doing this?" The Marquess asked. "You should know very well that things won't be good for you if you lose this race."

Arthur sighed. "I know." He looked outside the stable to where Robert's family and Edward were waiting on the race track. His eyes focused on Grace, watching her as the cool afternoon breeze carried her immaculate blonde hair. "But I have something to prove."

His eyes flashed with determination so familiar it reminded Robert of someone. Someone that lately he had tried every way possible to get rid of. Robert was beginning to understand how much working for him was important to Ella. If Arthur was willing to go this far to prove something to Grace, maybe Robert should give Ella a chance. She was also as determined as Arthur.

He gave Arthur a tap on the back. "Don't lose."

"I won't, My Lord."

"You better," He smiled as he watched Arthur jog into the hot afternoon. "The stupid things he does for love."