Page 57 of His Enemy Duchess

Thomas whipped the reins fervently, but the pragmatic side of him could already tell.

He had lost. Handily so.

Sophia crossed the finish line with her arms open wide and her head thrown back, turning around the oak tree with the same effortless skill as before. So fast and close to the trunk that poor William had to hug it to get out of her way.

Thomas crossed the finish line a few seconds later, breathless and furious. Meanwhile, Sophia patted Violetta’s neck, congratulating the mare.

“Good girl! What a good girl you are!”

Thomas stared at her in disbelief and, to his disdain, in awe.

I… lost.

And that was exactly why he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by her, for if she could make him lose a race—his first ever—what else could she make him lose?

CHAPTER 20

They brought the horses back to the stables with a slow march, letting them catch their breath. William was the only one speaking, a gallon of excitement in his voice.

“I’ve never seen someone go so fast! IknewVioletta would make an exemplary racehorse. Didn’t I tell you, Thomas?” He smiled up at Sophia—the first she had received from the man. “Not that we can ignore your prowess, Your Grace.”

“That is very kind of you, William,” she said with a small measure of happiness.

Was she thawing the ice between herself and the Pratts, at last?

He even helped her get down from the saddle, though she needed no assistance.

“Truly breathtaking,” William said. “I mean it.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” she replied shyly, the praise somehow making her less comfortable than the vitriol.

The stablemaster came over to lead the horses inside, just as Thomas got off Lucille.

He is unusually quiet.

Sophia observed his stony face—stonier than usual—begging to have even an inkling of what he could possibly be thinking.

“Brother, would you mind leaving us alone? I’d like to have a word with my wife,” he said coolly.

William nodded and retreated towards the stables, where he would undoubtedly fawn over Violetta some more.

Sophia turned and plastered on her most innocent smile. “How can I help you, husband?”

A few moments passed in silence.

“You bested me,” Thomas said, his face unreadable.

“That I did. It was a very good race. You are an excellent rider, Thomas.”

“You are patronizing me,” he said with a smile.

Now, he’s smiling?

She doubted she would be able to understand him if she had a hundred years to get to know him.

“I am not. It was neck and neck, almost until the end. You don’t have to believe me, but I have my honor too. I’d never patronize an opponent either in the race or outside of it.”

“You also tricked me,” he said in a husky voice that reminded her of the library.

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