Dorian Red Gloria, Earl of Gloria, relaxed in the shade and stared at the golden drink in his hand. In a tall frosty glass filled with crushed ice and topped with a sprig of mint, it was called a mint julep and looked like what the Americans called "iced tea."  It certainly went down easily enough. It was the kick that came after the swallow that had Dorian staring at his glass.

So that was Kentucky Bourbon. Ye gods.

Dorian had been in Louisville, Kentucky, for several days now as the guest of Billy Walton, owner of the Stars and Bars Farm. Stars and Bars was known as one of the premier thoroughbred breeding farms and training facilities in Kentucky, and it was represented in the famed Kentucky Oaks, one of the Kentucky Derby races, this year by Walton's own horse, Dancy's Dream. Walton had met Dorian at Ascot two years earlier and had taken an instant liking to him. He had extended an open invitation for Dorian to join him and his family on Millionaire's Row for the Derby races.

At the time Billy had extended his invitation, Dorian had had no intention of ever accepting. Horse racing in the colonies held no interest for him whatsoever. Especially in the state of Kentucky, where, in spite of the 125 years of racing history, the word "rustic" came first to Dorian's mind. But things change.

They certainly had for Dorian, and he had been more than ready for a change of scenery. His home at North Downs Castle had become overcrowded with acquaintances and hangers-on, and James was whining more than usual, which was saying quite a bit. The London scene was over-familiar and dreary. The city was also grey, cold and rainy. Unfortunately, perhaps, the earl's financial situation was solid at the moment. That meant that there was no need for Eroica to plan an escapade in order to fill the earldom's coffers. And none of the works of art he had recently seen appealed enough to him to inspire a job simply for the acquisition of a beautiful object. 

Dorian was bored.

He had taken a NATO contract three months ago thinking that an encounter with Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach might shake him out of his doldrums and inspire him to new heights. And his experience with Klaus had, indeed, been moving. It had moved Dorian all the way to Kentucky.

Now not only was Dorian bored, he was also depressed.

So the Earl of Gloria had recalled the invitation extended to him by Billy Walton and had decided to accept. Billy was thrilled, he said, to have a "real *live* English Earl" as his guest for the races and accompanying festivities. He was a bit disappointed that Dorian only intended to come for a few days, but would try to show him a good time.

Dorian had not been bored with Billy Walton.

Billy and his wife, Sue-Sue, a buxom brunette with a creamy complexion and a wicked sense of humor, had pulled out all the stops for their new friend. Dorian thought the champagne had not stopped flowing since he stepped onto Billy's private jet in Atlanta for the short trip to Louisville. It seemed like the only time Billy wasn't pouring the champagne was when Billy was pouring the bourbon. Dorian had managed to avoid bourbon until today. He was now getting his first taste of it in this tall drink called a mint julep.

Good manners had required Dorian try a great many things over the past three days. Some he hadn't minded so much. He found that he rather liked fried chicken, once he had adopted the local custom of eating it with his fingers instead of trying to cut it with knife and fork. For a holiday sort of thing, it was not a bad experience. Fried okra was another matter entirely. And grits. But the buttermilk "biscuits" -- a sort of large, flaky dinner roll -- were amazingly good, especially with sweet butter and clover honey.

Dorian had also learned a few things that he strained to remember when in conversation with his Southern hosts.  The most important was that he should never use the general term "Yanks" to describe Southerners. In the South, "Yanks" was not generally accepted as a friendly term.

He also learned that Sue-Sue -- and all Southern ladies -- was allowed to say the most cutting things about another woman as long as she followed the comment with the phrase "bless her heart." 

She had said, "There's that darlin' Sharon Nelson. What in the world has she done with her hair? And, good Lord, she must weigh 50 pounds more than when she got married last year, bless her heart."

Having done some research on the subject, Dorian had been prepared for the sartorial challenges his debut with the Derby crowd would present. He had been correctly, if a bit unconventionally, attired for the Ball last night. And as he was the distinguished guest of a distinguished host, as well as a handsome man and an excellent dancer, the earl had not lacked for partners -- or entertainment.

Remembering a conversation he had witnessed between Billy and several other thoroughbred owners -- one Irish, one Saudi, one Chilean, and one Japanese -- could still bring a grin to Dorian's face. Sorting through the accents and massacred idioms had been a challenge to him, but evidently the other men were used to each other's conversation and carried on a heated debate regarding a disputed race which had occurred earlier in the day. The hand and arm motions alone were priceless. At one point, Dorian excused himself and went outdoors to double over with laughter behind the hedge.

After the hilarity had eased, he had remained outside, enjoying the moonlight and scenting the air. The light breeze was warm and fragrant with roses and honeysuckle. The grass had recently been cut, and the green smell drew Dorian further away from the ballroom and into the quiet evening.

He walked aimlessly across the wide lawn and beside the moonlit gardens. Breathing deeply, Dorian felt his heart swell with the beauty of the evening. Loneliness hit him hard in that moment, and his eyes filled.

*Oh, Klaus. I wish I could share this with you. Isn't there any way for you to... Isn't there any chance for us?*

He stayed outside for a long time, only returning to the ballroom when he had accepted he would be missed. The night had passed slowly after that.

Now he sat in Billy Walton's box on Millionaire's Row waiting for the excitement of the Kentucky Derby to begin in earnest. Sue-Sue had cooed over his ensemble for the day. He wore a cream colored shirt and matching tie, along with a cream and pink striped linen waistcoat and pink linen jacket over cream linen trousers. He had finished the outfit with a dashing wide-brimmed hat of cream colored straw, a pink rose in his buttonhole, and a pair of cream and pink wingtipped shoes.

When he had entered the Row with Billy and Sue-Sue, his outfit had received a round of applause from the guests in the nearby boxes. He had grinned and bowed in appreciation and had suddenly found that about twenty magazine photographers were keen to photograph Billy Walton's well-dressed guest. Dorian had accepted the frosty mint julep, although it was still a hour or so before noon. The temperature was not overwhelmingly hot, but the humidity was enough to be wilting.

Dancy's Dream had run in the Kentucky Oaks race the day before, and had not placed. Still, Billy and Sue-Sue were as enthusiastic as ever about the Derby itself. Billy stood up and indicated that Dorian and Sue-Sue should also.

"Come on, y'all. Let's go see how they're turned out today. Might pick a winner in the paddock there. Let's go, baby." He took Sue-Sue's hand and gave Dorian an identity pass to hang around his neck, then led the way from the boxes through the paddock and to the stables.

The Derby horses had a while to wait as the main race didn't take place until 2:00, but they were all there. Owners and trainers surrounded them all, and the area teemed with activity as other horses were prepared for other races. Billy and Sue-Sue went from stable to stable, stall to stall, talking to the trainers and critically eyeing the beautiful, perfectly groomed animals.  Dorian was interested and followed his knowledgeable new friend, gleaning tips and information, being careful of his shoes. 

The race horses were perfect, strong, and full of life. Dorian had the feeling they knew everything that was happening around them, and that they were indeed "chomping at the bit," as Billy said. It was going to be hard to choose between the favorites.

Then one of the horses drew Dorian's eye. A magnificent beast, he was being held by his trainer in the open yard as a stable hand cleared out his stall. Dorian stepped closer to him and the horse raised his great head and met Dorian's eyes. The horse seemed to take in the pink parfait themed outfit and the wide brimmed hat over flowing golden curls. Dorian smiled at him, and the great horse rolled his eyes and snorted loudly.

A bit startled, Dorian stepped back quickly. And wondered if the horse could speak German.

The spirited horse tossed his mane at Dorian and pawed the ground. Billy quickly stepped over to Dorian and took his elbow, leading him away from the high-strung animal. But Dorian never broke eye contact with the great horse, which was still snorting and tossing his head.

"Which one is that, Billy?"

"Long shot," was all Billy said. He let go of Dorian's arm and continued his discussion with another trainer.

Standing out of harm's way, Dorian watched the horse. His coat was a dark sable, shining with health and care. He was strong, but was obviously not one of the largest or most imposing of the Derby horses. But the fire!

A boy carrying a bucket eased by Dorian, who stopped him for a moment.

"Which horse is that, lad?" he asked, nodding at the horse.

"The one with the attitude? That's War Emblem. Long shot, sir." The boy rushed off to tend to his duties.

War Emblem. Dorian looked him up in the lists. Twenty to one. Long shot indeed.

But later, again sitting in Billy's box, when it was time to consider placing his bets on the main event, Dorian still had not forgotten the look in the horse's eye. He shook himself. He knew better than to bet on a long shot in this type of race.

But the feeling remained. Looking carefully at the paddock area through Billy's binoculars, Dorian could see the horse, now saddled, being walked and kept warm. The silks of his owner were green and white. A frisson of excitement raced up Dorian's spine and raised the hair on the back of his neck.

Green. Like Klaus' eyes. Dark sable coat, like Klaus' own mane. Fire and defiance at his long-shot status. War Emblem. Klaus.

Even in the face of Billy's laughter and Sue-Sue's caution, Dorian bet all the cash he had with him on War Emblem. To win. At twenty to one.

The feeling that overcame Dorian as War Emblem galloped across the finish line ahead of the rest had nothing to do with the million dollars he had won on his bet. Hope blazed suddenly in Dorian's heart, and he leapt with the joy of it.

*Klaus!*

It wasn't too late and it wasn't over. Not for Klaus and not for Dorian.

Billy's contacts got Dorian into the Winner's Circle with the news story of the moment, the dark horse winner of the Kentucky Derby. The photos had all been taken and the jockey had finally dismounted for his interviews. The great horse blew and stamped as his trainer walked him around the Circle to prevent muscle cramps. The heavy blanket of red roses was still draped over the victorious neck.

As Dorian watched, the dark head lifted and the horse caught sight of Dorian. Dorian thought the dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as they eyed each other. Cautiously, Dorian eased his way to the horse's head. Dorian slipped the pink rose out of his lapel and, with the trainer's permission, added it to the blanket of red ones.

The huge head tossed again and Dorian stepped away smiling. No, nothing was finished between Dorian and Klaus. There would be another day, another time. Dorian would hold on, wait, hope. And bet his heart on the long shot.

Sometimes long shots do win.

**********************************

The End

[Notes: War Emblem won the 2002 Kentucky Derby at 20-1 odds. He also won the Preakness. But he stumbled coming out of the gate at Belmont and did not finish well. No Triple Crown for War Emblem this year. But if we don't carry the analogy too far, Klaus and Dorian should be okay!]

Many thanks to Josan for the excellent beta and for all the encouragement. And thanks to Bagheera for posting it first!