The Unexpected Duchess (Playful Brides #1)(62)
Lucy blinked. “What did you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you, Lucy, or it might not come true.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The next day, they went riding out into the hillsides surrounding Bath. Two grooms accompanied them, and Derek brought a horse for Lucy. A beautiful little filly with brown and white markings named Delilah.
Lucy stroked the horse’s neck and offered her an apple she’d swiped from the kitchens. They hadn’t even mentioned Cass. Was it possible Derek was as afraid as Lucy that Cass was recovered? She remained an awful friend. She hadn’t even checked on Cass this morning to see how she was feeling.
Lucy had also received another letter from Christian just as clever and charming as the last. But ever since Garrett had mentioned that it was odd that Christian was sending letters more often than he was coming around, she couldn’t help but be preoccupied with that thought. Why was it that he sent letters every morning but she hadn’t seen him since before she’d received the first one? Why was he so painfully shy and quiet in her company when his letters were so expressive and eloquent?
She shook herself. This was exactly why she’d been on the shelf for so long. She questioned everything about anyone and, if he was found lacking, chased him away. Sometimes she didn’t even wait for a reason to chase him away. She needed to find a husband eventually. She wanted a family, children … Love? Perhaps that was too much to ask for, but children would do for a start and a husband precipitated children. It was time for her to finally begin to be serious about courtship and finding a willing and worthy gentleman. Meeting Christian had been fortuitous indeed. She had merely to keep from chasing him away.
It was probably best for both of them that Christian hadn’t come around. Less chance for her to stick her foot solidly in her throat. Besides, she did so enjoy his letters. What sort of a contrary person was she that she assumed the worst? She was being courted by a handsome, eligible viscount who obviously liked her a great deal. Why couldn’t she just accept it and enjoy it?
In the meantime, she was spending time with a handsome, mouthy duke who drove her mad and whom she—ahem—may or may not have done questionable things with in the past. Things she couldn’t forget, even when she was reading Christian’s letters. Derek’s voice snapped her from her thoughts.
“I thought we’d go for a race.” He flashed his famous devilish grin.
“A race?”
“Yes. Do you race, Miss Upton?”
“Of course I do,” she answered with a returning smile. She was getting quite used to him calling her Miss Upton. Quite used to it indeed.
“I thought so,” he replied. “Any young lady who prided herself on her boyish pursuits as a child is bound to race.”
“Not only do I race, I just might beat you, Your Grace,” she replied with a laugh.
“No you won’t.” He winked at her.
Her stomach did that funny little flip it always did when he looked at her that way. And arguing with him about racing was ever so much more enjoyable than arguing with him about Cass’s marital aspirations. It was fun, this competition with him. Derek didn’t give any quarter, and he didn’t back down. When was the last time she’d met a man who treated her this way? Garrett, of course, had always treated her as an equal, but Garrett had known her since she was born. Derek was the first man she’d known who’d ever stood up to her, challenged her, teased her, and did so without the slightest bit of fear that he’d anger her. In fact, he seemed to look forward to angering her. Relished it, actually. And that’s what intrigued her about him.
They rode leisurely through town and into the surrounding hillside. There they found a long, clear meadow, the perfect spot for racing.
“Do you require a head start, Miss Upton?” Derek called to her.
Lucy tossed a challenging stare back at him. “It’s Lady Lucy, Your Grace, and no, I do not, but if that’s your indication that you need one, by all means.”
He shook his head, the grin still resting on his handsome face. “From that first tree then? To the end of the meadow, near the barn?” He pointed and Lucy turned to look.
She nodded. “Yes. That should give me plenty of time to beat you soundly.”
He laughed at that and then they were off. Lucy slapped Delilah’s flanks with her crop and leaned low over the horse’s head, whispering to the girl to go faster, faster, faster. “I’ll give you a bucket of apples if we win, Delilah,” she promised with a giant grin on her face as she maneuvered alongside the duke.
From the moment they’d taken off, Derek hadn’t looked back. When Lucy and her horse came galloping alongside, his face registered his chagrin for all of a moment before he leaned farther down over his own horse and slapped his flank with his crop. Apparently, the duke realized he was in for a bit of true competition. His grin was unrepentant.
They raced like that, past the tree, through the meadow, up the hill, and to the top where a small red barn sat, leaning slightly to one side.
Lucy hunkered over the horse, several lengths behind Derek. During a race, it was always in one’s best interest to allow one’s opponent to believe he would win. But in the last stretch, she slapped Delilah’s flank again and the horse took off with a bolt of speed.
Derek’s neck snapped up the moment he realized he’d been passed. He leaned low and let out the reins on his gelding. “Yah, yah,” he shouted to his horse.