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Chapter 1

March 1,1820

Newmarket, Suffolk

Unfettered freedoant smile, Harold Henry Cynster-Demon to everyone, even to his mother in her weakerhalt in the yard behind his Newrooe to catch them, Demon stepped down to the cobbles In a buoyant lossy bay hide of his leader and scanned the yard with a proprietorial eye

There was not a scheht

Bestowing a last fond pat on his horse's shoulder, Demon headed for the open rear door of the stable He'd left London at midday, unexpectedly content to have the breeze blow the cloying perfume of a certain lascivious countess from his brain More than content to leave behind the ballroo entle such snares, but, these days, there was a certain scent on the breeze, a presentinore

First his cousin Devil, then his own brother Vane, and now his closest cousin, Richard-who next of their select band of six, the Bar Cynster as they were called, would fate cause to trip into the ar wife?

Whoever it was, it wouldn't be him

Pausing before the open doors of the stable, he swung around, eyes squinting in the slanting sunlight So in the paddocks with their lads in close attendance On the Heath beyond, other stables' strings were exercising under the eyes of owners and trainers

The scene was an exclusively male one The fact that he felt entirely at ho-was ironic He could hardly claim he didn't like women, didn't enjoy their company Hadn't-didn't-devote considerable time to their conquest

He couldn't deny he took pleasure in, and derived considerable satisfaction from, those conquests He was, after all, a Cynster