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“Same to you, wife.”

William called out again. “On my whistle.” He paused, the air thick with anticipation. “Three. Two… One!”

A loud whistle rent the air, and both of them were off with a squeeze of the thighs and a tap of the riding crop.

Both horses were strong and young, and their hooves pounded loudly against the dirt as the two riders lowered their heads and sprinted ahead with fervor. There was no freedom like it, Thomas’s mare stretching her legs to her full speed, eating up the ground between the manor and the woodland.

He felt a small sense of relief as he pulled ahead, knowing he’d be first to the turn at the forest’s edge. He looked back to check on his wife, startled to find her gaining on him.

The new mare galloped like a demon.

What the?—

He cracked the crop and sped up.

What is she doing? If she goes too fast into the turn, she’ll be thrown off her horse.

“Don’t be reckless!” he shouted, the woodland rushing towards him.

“Why, are you scared?” Sophia called back gleefully.

The turn came, and Thomas mastered it easily. Lucille’s momentum slowed, as expected, but as she began to build up speed again, Sophia threatened to fly past, taking the turn so quickly that Thomas feared for the safety of Violetta’s legs.

He was beside himself with confusion.

I had the clear advantage, and she almost stole the lead!

He had never had to push Lucille so hard.

Sophia was as fast as a storm, and worst of all, she was doing it with minimal effort. She didn’t look like she was straining or even whipping her horse that much. Within ten strides, she had passed him.

She turned her head back, flashing him a proud grin.

By Jove, she’s going so fast… Does she not care about her safety?

Lowering himself until he was practically flat against Lucille’s back, he used the long stretch to the oak tree to his advantage, his mare catching up to Sophia’s.

Then he heard a voice. Hers.

What now?

“How about a wager?”she suggested above the whistling wind.

Thomas heard her loud and clear and smiled—wide, so she could see it.

“Name your prize!” he answered.

“Not a prize! A favor! From the loser!”she responded as he realized the long stretch was almost up.

A favor…

He mused on the possibility, immediately swarmed by plenty of things he wouldn’t mind asking for. To feel her astride him, to feel the heat of her drawing him in, to hear her blissful sighs, to see her lose control as he claimed her at last.

He shook his head.

Concentrate!

Her trick, such as it was, had worked. As he thought of all the things he longed to do to her, she had dashed so far ahead of him that he stood no chance of catching up, and with a quick look, he realized they were nearing the finish line. He noticed William waiting at the exact spot they had started, holding a handkerchief, waving it with fervor.