Her hands must have done something on that thought and the bays began to trot.
‘All right?’ Cal sounded perfectly unconcerned at the increased speed.
‘Wonderful!’ She would like to canter, but that would be foolish, this first time. She had just caught the thought, was telling herself firmly that there wouldn’t be a second time, when a rider on a chestnut gelding, who was crossing at right angles, reined in abruptly, then trotted down the track towards them until the gelding was almost nose to nose with Cal’s pair. Faced with the options of running him off the track or stopping, Sophie stopped, fuming.
Beside her Cal straightened in the seat. ‘Cousin. What in Hades do you think you are doing?’
‘What am I doing?’ It was Ralph Thorne, she realised. ‘What are you thinking of, giving the reins of that lethal equipage
to Miss Wilmott? That is no vehicle for a lady – and a pair, for Heaven’s sake. I would never dream of handing the reins of my carriage to her.’
‘Then she probably finds driving with you a dead bore,’ Cal drawled. ‘Which is no doubt why she is driving with me and not you.’ The air was suddenly crackling with the unspoken threat of violence.
Sophie clenched her teeth on the questions she knew she must not ask. Had Cal known she regularly drove with Ralph and that was why he asked her? But why, unless he wanted to make his cousin jealous – and why would he want to do that? Men… she could knock both of their heads together just now.
‘I happen to be sitting right here and I am quite capable of answering for myself, thank you, gentlemen.’ They both looked at her as though she was a juicy bone they had begun to fight over and then, engrossed in their antipathy, had forgotten was actually there. Sophie stifled a mad urge to giggle. ‘If I had received your invitation first, Mr Thorne, I would have been delighted to accept it as I always find our drives together most entertaining.’ She resisted the temptation to jab Cal in the ribs with her elbow, just in case he hadn’t caught that. ‘As it was, the Duke asked me before I received your note and I am equally delighted to be driving with him and most flattered that he should allow me to take the reins of his very well-behaved pair.’
Cal bit the inside of his lower lip to stop the smile that would, doubtless, have Ralph off his horse and at his throat, thinking it was directed at him. Touché, Miss Wilmott. ‘Both a gracious lady and a diplomat,’ he observed.
Beside him there was a low growl. Well, yes, he was being patronising and he probably deserved that reaction, but it was Ralph he wanted to inflame, not her. At least, not in this way. The thought of Sophie inflamed with another kind of passion altogether had him hard with wanting in a flash of heat. Hell.
‘If you will excuse us, Mr Thorne, I really do not want to keep the horses standing,’ Sophie said crisply. At least she was annoyed with both of them.
Ralph touched his whip to the brim of his hat and turned the chestnut of the track, cantering away without a backwards glance.
Sophie let the pair walk on, a rather less tidy manoeuvre this time as her tension communicated itself to the horses. ‘Are you – ’
‘Is he – No, you go first, Sophie,’ Cal murmured.
‘Are you deliberately trying to pick a quarrel with your cousin, Duke?’
So, they were back to titles, were they. ‘Certainly not,’ he lied. ‘But he is acting like a pompous ass.’
‘You both were,’ she said snappishly. ‘Or, rather, like boys.’
Cal let that go, it was too near the truth to counter convincingly. ‘Tell me, is he courting you?’
‘No. Yes… Perhaps.’ Sophie let the pair trot and reined them back. ‘He hasn’t said anything either to me or to Step Papa. He doesn’t… that is, he has not…’
‘Tried to kiss you?’ If Ralph had tried anything more he’d have his balls.
‘Yes, I mean, no, he hasn’t.’
‘So how long has perhaps been going on?’
‘About three months. We are almost at the Serpentine, which way should I go?’
‘Follow the road round and we will go back north up the eastern edge of the park,’ Cal said with a vague wave of his hand that sent a stab of pain through his sore shoulder. ‘Three months? And he has made no declaration, not tried to make love to you? What the devil’s the matter with him? Does he snarl at any other men who take you about or ask you to dance?’
‘Only you,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose it is very gentlemanly to be so, um, well-behaved, but…’
‘You rather wish he would get on with it?’
‘If you put it like that, yes.’ The smile was back in her voice now.
He fell silent, watching the horses as she negotiated the stretch of road alongside the water. He didn’t want a sudden flight of duck to spook them and unnerve her. Once they were safely past the danger he said, ‘And what will you answer when he does, finally, summon up the courage to put the question?’
‘That is none of your affair, Duke.’ She reined in. ‘Will you take them now, I am becoming tired.’