“I’m sure, Sophie.”
Heat fizzed low in her abdomen. He’d called her by her first name, without any kind of title before it. She couldn’t recall him ever doing so before, and it created a level of familiarity she longed for with her whole being.
She cleared her throat and urged Dandelion faster, the hoofbeats loud enough that she had to raise her voice to be heard over them. “Then shall we make a plan of action for the house party?”
Rich laughter filled the air as he drew alongside her, quickly catching up. “What diabolical schemes do you have in mind?”
Reluctantly, she slowed again so that they could speak more easily.
Over the next half hour, they plotted. They discussed how much time she should endeavor to spend with him versus the baron, how she might signal him if she wanted him to either leave or come to her rescue, and the best ways for her to encourage the baron to court her in earnest.
Once they were satisfied, Nicholas sent her a wicked grinand urged his gelding into a canter. Sophie laughed, her spirits soaring, and encouraged Dandelion to do the same.
Neither spoke as they flew through the park, the flowers forming colorful banners in the corners of Sophie’s eyes as they blurred together.
A group of riders appeared ahead, and she slowed, glancing sideways and admiring the high flush on Nicholas’s cheeks and the roguish way his hair—which had been tied back—came loose and fell around his shoulders.
Her heart gave a pang. He was so handsome. So full of vitality and fun. Exactly what she wanted from life.
But he wasn’t hers, and he never would be.
“If we were racing, I’d definitely have won,” she said breathlessly, slowing Dandelion further so they didn’t make the horses ahead of them nervous by approaching too rapidly.
Nicholas laughed. “Riding sidesaddle? I don’t think so.”
She arched her eyebrow in challenge. “Then we’ll have to race again when polite society doesn’t require such things.”
He met her gaze and winked. “I look forward to it.”
A warm, bubbly feeling blossomed within her, and she dragged her eyes away from him.
It’s fake, she reminded herself.You aren’t actually courting.
How was she supposed to remember that when he looked at her like she enchanted him?
“It must be time to get you back home.” He stopped his gelding and guided him around to face the other way.
Reluctantly, Sophie followed suit.
They kept a more sedate pace on the return journey—a fact for which she was grateful when they encountered Lady Talbot—one of theton’smore notorious gossips.
Lord knew what rumors she’d have spread if she’d witnessed them romping about earlier.
They’d almost reached the street when a familiar figure came into view. The woman was perched on a black mare,but she moved stiffly and clearly wasn’t a natural in the saddle. Her black hair was streaked with gray and arranged in a simple chignon. Her features were slightly harsh and resembled her sons’.
If not for Nicholas’s quick intake of breath, Sophie might have thought that he and the dowager viscountess had planned this encounter. It seemed unlikely to have happened coincidentally.
Lady Blackwell tugged on the reins, huffing as her horse halted. Sophie stopped Dandelion and stroked her neck, waiting for Nicholas to take the lead in this conversation.
“Mother.” He didn’t sound pleased to see her. “I didn’t know you intended to ride today. It must have been years since you ventured out on horseback.”
“For good reason.” She looked down her nose disapprovingly. “I’d forgotten how uncomfortable it is. After this, I believe I will refrain. There’s nothing wrong with a good carriage. So much more civilized.”
“You do like things to be civilized,” Nicholas remarked.
His tone made the comment seem offhanded, but Sophie suspected there was an underlying conflict she wasn’t privy to. For a man who was usually warm and friendly, he was responding to his mother almost coolly.
“Good afternoon, Lady Blackwell,” Sophie said, hoping to ease the tension. “Isn’t it the perfect day to be out and about?”
