Probably, if he gave her the chance, which he wouldn’t.
So was Lizzie Fane a force to be reckoned with? He smiled at the thought of testing her out, but past events at Rottingdean stood between them. He couldn’t remember that time without being forced to accept that Lizzie had a damaged bloodline. Her father, Lord Reginald Fane, had been a dissolute pervert who beat his wife, while Lizzie’s mother had been a liar and a cheat. Only Lizzie’s grandmother, the Grand Duchess, had stood out like a beacon of light, but how much influence had the old lady brought to bear on Lizzie? Judging by Lizzie’s contempt for his many letters to her, very little, he guessed.
Horses were easier to breed than people, he concluded. You could be sure of a horse’s bloodline and its flaws. He’d been lucky that Eduardo had saved him, lifting him from the barrio like a drowning puppy in a sack in the river. Eduardo hadn’t just taught him everything Chico knew about horses, but how to live and work responsibly, and how to care for his fellow human beings. He’d taught him how to eat in a civilised manner, and how to behave in society. Losing Eduardo had been like losing a father—a good father.
Learning Eduardo had left him everything had been the biggest shock of his life. Eduardo’s last words had been to beg Chico to shrug off his past and learn from it, but how was he supposed to do that now that Lizzie Fane was back in his life? Leaving Lizzie twelve years ago had torn him up inside. How could they leave a fifteen-year-old child in the care of her nymphomaniac mother, and a violent, debauched father? he had asked Eduardo. He hadn’t known then what they had accused him of, or why Eduardo and Lizzie’s grandmother had been in such a hurry to get him away. He could still remember clutching his head as he raged about Lizzie’s situation for the whole of their journey back to Brazil.
‘It’s not your job to save Lizzie,’ Eduardo had told him firmly. ‘You have your career to think about, and Lord Fane is too powerful, too respected, for you to take him on.’
‘But I will one day,’ Chico had vowed.
‘No,’ Eduardo had told him flatly. ‘You will forget this and keep your mind on your work and your future career. And as far as Lizzie Fane is concerned, you will forget her too, and place your trust, as I have done, in Lizzie’s grandmother.’
Trust, he remembered agonising in mutinous teenage silence. What was that?
He knew now that trust was one of the most important parts of loving someone, and that Eduardo had trusted him like a son.
* * *
‘So?’ Danny demanded as she waited with Lizzie in the supper queue. ‘What happened with Chico?’
Lizzie flashed a glance around.
‘I don’t know why you’re being so secretive. I saw you walking across the yard with him—everyone must have...’
‘Doesn’t this smell delicious?’ Lizzie remarked, refusing to rise to the bait. She and Danny were standing in front of the open grill where three chefs were preparing everything from vegetarian specials to man-sized steaks.
‘Your attempt to change the subject has fallen on deaf ears, Lizzie Fane,’ Danny assured her.
There were too many grooms around, as well as Chico’s fellow polo players, for Lizzie to be indiscreet, but Danny wasn’t going to let the subject drop. ‘So, what do you want to know?’ Lizzie asked.
‘You were a long time alone with Chico, and so I was wondering...’
‘He was telling me about the bandaging tutorial we have to attend at six tomorrow morning.’