Billionaire Flawed 1(230)

“And why were you hoping that?” David asked.

“Well, it seems as though after finally taking me to your bed, once I allowed it, you have little interest in speaking with me again,” the woman said quite plainly, and David had to hide a wince.

David Weatherby had a reputation around the city, and it was twofold. One: he gambled often and won and lost huge sums of money. As of late, there had been few wins and many losses. Two: he charmed most women he met, and they lowered their defences eventually to his charms. He used them in a way a man can and then moved on to his next conquest. So far, there had only been one woman who proved immune to his ways, the one who was betrothed to him, and had been since they were both teenagers.

Now, at just twenty, David’s list of conquests was lengthy, enough so that uncomfortable meetings like the one he was having at the race track were growing rather common.

“My lady,” David said softly as he grinned. “Surely you think nothing unkind of me, it’s simply my business endeavors that have kept me away. I wish it wasn’t so.”

“Is this a business endeavor?” the young woman asked, motioning to the horses.

“Of course it is. How’s this? Tonight, I will pick you up at your home at seven thirty, if you’ll agree to accompany me to dinner. We can spend some of the considerable sum I am about to win.”

“How do you know you will win? Isn’t a horse race a game of chance?” the young woman asked.

David laughed and shook his head. “Some may accept that it is a game of chance, but I do not. See my horse there?” David asked, pointing to a tall horse the color of deep chestnut, with a rider upon him and a purple sash about his neck. “I know that he will win, though he is what is called a long shot.”

“How do you know he will win?” Caroline asked.

“His trainer has found a new supper for him,” David said quietly. “I will say no more.”

“A new supper?”

David nodded and leaned toward the woman. “It is of utmost importance what these great beasts eat. It can give them quite an edge if their diet is looked after. This horse's trainer has found a new mix of oats and grain, which is said to provide an energy to the horse that few can match. He will be faster than the others.”

“We shall see,” Caroline said. But she didn’t sound convinced, and David turned away from her to watch the race, more than a little offended and annoyed.

“Here they are now,” he said needlessly, and the crowd behind them grew quiet for a moment, and there was a firearm shot into the air, and the horses were off.

David often forgot himself while at the horse track, and he was slamming his hand down upon the top of the metal railing as he watched his purple sashed horse surge out of the gate and take an early lead.

“I told you!” David couldn’t help but gloat over his shoulder.

And then, disaster. Halfway around the track, David’s horse tripped up and fell. His rider went flying, and there was a massive gasp from the crowd. The other horses surged around the fallen one, and the rider who had fallen scrambled to the safety of the fence, throwing himself up and over it. David’s face was a shade paler than normal as he turned to the young woman who was still standing beside him.

“I shouldn’t expect you for dinner, then?” she asked.

David glared at her and then made his way towards the exit, even as the race ended behind him and the crowd gave up a great cheer.

“You’ll never be anything!” a hurt Caroline yelled after him, and though she had hoped her brash words would be drowned out by the crowd, David Weatherby heard them all too well.



2



David had some time before his card game, so he took a carriage to his father’s house, hoping for a meal, and perhaps even a quick nap. His father was a large round man with a booming voice and hard eyes. He sat in the library, reading as he so often did, a large leather bound book open in his lap. He was contemplating something when David found him, the book face down, open to hold his place, and his eyes set on something outside of the window besides which he sat.

“Father,” David said as he came up on the older man. He took a seat across from him.

“Son, what have you been doing today?”

“I was at the races,” David said.

“I wanted you to go into the bank today, if you remember,” David’s father said.

David nodded. “I know, I was hoping it could wait until tomorrow.”

“It will wait, as I wait for you to come to your senses, take over the bank, marry that wonderful girl, and build a life for yourself and a family,” David’s father said. His name was Curtis Weatherby, and he owned and operated one of the most well-known banks in London. He was ready to retire and enjoy the wealth he had built, without the stress of running the business, but his only son was dragging his feet on growing up.