‘No, after consulting me.’
He eased the reins and the pair stepped out, black tails swishing, glossy rumps gleaming. ‘No, walk. And you have seen a lamp post before, and a dog, you air-headed creature.’ He touched the right-hand horse lightly with the whip and glanced at her again when she laughed. ‘That’s the dim one. His brother got all the brains.’ He eased the reins again and they began to trot, perfectly balanced.
Good horses or very assured driving? She suspected both. ‘Where are you taking me, Duke?’
‘I was waiting to see what you were wearing. That isn’t a new outfit, so I assume you are not eager to show it off along Rotten Row. Green Park is rather – What?’
‘How do you know this is not new?’ Sophie demanded. ‘It is a perfectly nice walking outfit.’
‘I never said it was not, although I would have said charming rather than nice, if you had asked. But you wouldn’t have been so careless over your choice of gloves if it had been brand spanking new.’
‘I was… distracted. And then my maid so obviously wanted to make a fuss about them that I was stubborn.’ It was her turn to send a sideways glance. Cal’s eyes were firmly forward, watching the road, but the corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Don’t laugh at me.’
‘I would not dream of it. I think the northern end of Hyde Park and then perhaps Gunther’s for an ice if this sunshine stays with us?’
‘That would be delightful.’ And a route over the hillocks and dips of that end of the park which would be interesting in this vehicle. Ralph always drove her sedately around Green Park, or along Rotten Row if it was the fashionable time to be seen there.
‘Shall we see what they can do?’ Cal asked as they turned in through the Uxbridge Road gate. Almost on her nod the bays broke into a controlled canter. ‘All right? Hold on to my arm if we’re swaying too much for you.’
It was tempting and would probably be far more comfortable than clenching her fingers around the thin side rail, which is what she had been about to do. Sophie slid her fingers under Cal’s arm and curled them into the crook of his elbow. He was warm and solid and she could feel the movement of his muscles as he controlled the pair with small movements of his fingers.
‘They are behaving beautifully.’ And you drive like a dream. Which was very attractive, she acknowledged. A man performing something physical with skill was bound to be so. Her imagination slid treacherously towards what other physical skills he might have.
Stop it, she told herself. This outing was doing nothing for her acceptance that the Duke really could never be more than an acquaintance. You are not what he will be looking for. Dukes want pure, well-bred brides. With the emphasis on pure, which I am not. Which was ridiculous, but then Society and men made the rules, not the young women caught up in them.
‘Would you like to take them?’ Cal reined in the pair who dropped from their canter down to a walk and then to a halt.
‘Drive them? Me?’
‘You have got good hands,’ he said, as though she assumed he’d be nervous that she was cow-handed. It not did appear to have occurred to him that she might be terrified of driving this swaying, fragile vehicle and two unknown blood horses.
And that, of course, was an unspoken challenge that could not go unanswered. ‘If you are sure, then thank you, Cal, I would love to drive.’
She took the reins, letting the pair settle and get used to the pressure coming from a slightly different angle. Cal handed her the whip and she eased the reins, clicking her tongue in encouragement as they moved off. ‘It is easier to balance when I have the reins,’ she said, surprised.
‘You know what is happening, so your body is ready for the movement,’ he said, cheerfully ignoring the fact that he had just referred to a lady’s body. Mama would have kittens, Sophie found it refreshing. It was also rather… stimulating that he was thinking about it, even in the context of driving.
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?’